NursingZen

Labor & Delivery has got me thinking about my own family planning, and happily so. I couldn’t have said that a year ago, when the thought of having kids and being a parent made me cough and squirm.

A year ago I was surrounded by single friends or committed couples who were happy enough raising their dog. Furthermore, an untraditional and unstable childhood had dampened any interest in giving up the freedom I had found in my 20s.

But since the new year I feel like I’ve turned a corner and entered a space where I can imagine having a kid and being a good parent. I’m sure it helps that for the first time I have peers who are also starting to think seriously about having kids. … It’s strange yet refreshing.

It’s even more refreshing to be in an L&D course where our teacher shamelessly and enthusiastically indoctrinates us with knowledge about pregnancy and birth that you don’t easily learn about from mainstream media or mainstream health care.

When someone mentions pregnancy, labor, and birth, what do you automatically think of? Do you wonder how birth is physically possible for anyone to do? Do you taste fear? Do you imagine an exhausted, sweating woman on her back and people yelling “PUSH!” from all directions? Do you imagine excrutiating pain and a mess of blood and poop? These are some of the associations I used to have with birth.

Then I watched “The Business of Being Born” and met my L&D teacher. Suddenly, a whole new side to the birth process opened up. I was stunned! Transcending the pain was absolute euphoria! An alternative to a medicalized, hospital-based birth was a midwife-assisted home birth! Instead of lying on your back in pain and in fear, you should actually walk, stretch, float, dance, yell, and get massaged!

All these alternatives seemed like a novelty to me … even though most of the world does birth this way. Talk about being ignorant.

But now I feel enlightened, and I just realized that I can go on and on about this. I’ll wrap up by saying that no matter what your feelings or opinions are about labor and birth, start a discussion with yourself and your friends by watching “The Business of Being Born.” It might change your life like it did mine.

Labor & Delivery clinical has been thrilling. I saw two Cesarean sections and assisted with the pre-op and post-recovery of the moms and babies.  I caught the tail-end of a natural, spontaneous vaginal birth in which the baby popped out after 10 minutes of pushing. I swaddled and held a newborn.

Labor & Delivery has also been challenging. A large part of our role as a student is to give the mom mental and emotional support during her labor or C-section. Yet here I am still getting comfortable with simply witnessing labor (especially “crowning” — the moment when the baby’s head pushes through the vagina) and Cesareans, so needless to say, I feel a bit helpless when it comes to providing support. But since it’s basically all we’re allowed to do on the floor (aside from routine procedures, like taking vital signs or giving shots), I suspect I’ll be getting some practice!

March flew by in part because of our three luxurious weeks of spring break. We’ve now returned to our last quarter of MEPN. Amazing. The anxiety and sleeplessness of the first quarter seem like a lifetime ago. The Pediatric and Psych experiences are still palpable, but at 6 (?) and 4 (?) weeks each, they were far too fleeting. Now we’re in Labor & Delivery and Community Health Nursing, which together take up five days of the week.

Despite the schedule, I have a feeling that L&D and Community might be the most enjoyable and interesting for me, thanks to a mindful and passionate L&D professor and a nurturing and laidback community clinical placement. My Community clinical is also a much-needed reality check: After the hands-off experience of Peds and Psych, I’m realizing just how rusty my basic nursing knowledge is. For example, on my first day in Community clinical, I recapped a used needle with my RN preceptor watching. She said: “Never recap a used needle – now I know they taught you that.” In my opinion, she was too nice about it. The next day, an NP watched me as I gave a vaccine shot. I forgot to put on gloves. Right. Basics, baby. Basics. I don’t want to make excuses for my idiocy, but I will: This year has been so fast and so up and down in terms of quality of clinicals and preceptors that I haven’t been able to concretize and hone my knowledge and skills as much as I’d like.

But even though I feel rushed in my preparation as an RN, I’ve seen enough good and bad bedside nursing that I know the kind of nurse I want to be. I’ve seen enough wonderful patients, enough disparity in care, and enough burnt-out nurses that I want to help bring in new energy, a dose of optimism, and high standards. While some of my classmates are looking eagerly toward the Master’s program next fall and to becoming NPs, CNSs, or midwives, I’m planning to develop my practice as a bedside nurse for a year, maybe two, while taking time to finish my Master’s (speciality still to be definitively determined, thanks in part to an interest in too many fields –– to be discussed another time).

I’m not sure when it happened but somewhere along the way the words “my practice” started to mean something to me. Months ago I heard a classmate say, “I want school to be over. I can’t wait to develop my practice,” and my internal reaction was, “Huh? We’ve barely been in school. What practice is she talking about?” But over the last nine months I began to see just how differently each nurse interprets the role and responsibilities of being an RN and how much freedom each New Nurse has to define and shape the kind of RN she wants to be—in other words, how well she understands disease and nursing interventions, how safely and critically she will practice, and how brave, outspoken, present, and compassionate she will be. Dare I say it … I can’t wait for my practice to begin.