Delive...What??
Tue., March 25, 09:46 AM
I need to explain that my house is more than full of books. We still have books that I bought before I was married; books that I bought as a young mom (especially the teaching ones); books that we’ve bought ever since the internet took the place of the bookmobile and the local library. Both U.D. and I read a lot, though these days she reads faster than I. Sometimes I look at the piles of books everywhere and just thank heaven I don’t have to catalogue them!
Whenever I delve into a cache that I’ve ignored for a while, I find something new and interesting. (For example, I found new, unused volumes of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking, which made a good gift for someone who had wanted it.) I recently pulled a lot of books out of the corner of Husband’s room; they were in the corner, of course, because he doesn’t read books. Some I had read, some I had not, and one large white book (no jacket) was completely unfamiliar.
I glanced at the spine — Deliverance? No, it couldn’t be! I looked more carefully — Delivery. That makes a little more sense, but what is it? Title page: Delivery: A Nurse-Midwife’s Story, by Jennifer Crichton. It’s classed as fiction, since its main character is made up of several different people and their experiences. Copyright: 1986 (first edition). I don’t remember reading it, though it looks well read (did I spill coffee on it?). And so I begin again.
Women have been giving birth for a long time, and this book is less than twenty-five years old. Have things changed that much? Indeed, the whole world has changed. I came to a mention of Woolworth’s and wondered how many women of child-bearing age even know what a five-and-ten was. They’re doing prenatal care and deliveries in the inner city and routinely ask mothers about drug use; but there is absolutely no mention of AIDS. Ultrasound is available but not very reliable; they use it only on high-risk cases. There is description of hospital delivery and home delivery, but birthing centers are pretty well ignored. (One mention, I think.) And the cost of malpractice insurance has skyrocketed.
Meanwhile, my perspective is colored not only by what I have read elsewhere but by my own three deliveries. I was, incidentally, a very fortunate patient. Induction? We did that once. The amnihook? I called it “the stick,” and we needed it every time. A difference in care between doctors and nurses? Oh, yes, and it wasn’t just gender. I was examined so roughly by a female intern that I wondered whether she had long fingernails underneath those gloves.
Some things are eternal, and one of those is the need for patience. We didn’t have midwives in our hospital thirty-five years ago, but I was very grateful for experienced maternity nurses, just willing to sit and talk with the patient during the long wait. Some women are just better at it, I think.
I had a group of students for my second delivery, because they had to learn about induced labor and how it affected the outcome. I was both patient and teacher, for they had questions they weren’t comfortable asking an instructor. They were attentive and observant. I felt those girls would become good nurses.
As always in these books, there’s politics. Contention between maternity nurses and midwives. Doctors who think they know everything better, as well as interns who should never be allowed near a baby. In private practice, with practice privileges at a more modern hospital, the midwife sees a different set of prejudices, but still they exist. The ending is good for 1986, but I find myself wondering now how much of a difference she actually made.
This book is scheduled for the next charity book exchange (we give them books and buy others from them). However, if any of you would like to have it, please let me know; I am just as happy to give it to someone who would be interested.
