(**Note: Max is actually almost 12 weeks old. This post is a little late ... but as you can imagine, I've been a bit busy and couldn't post it sooner!)
Max is officially 7 weeks old and today was the last day that Maria came to "officially" see Max as our midwife. 7 weeks postnatal, you say? Yes, it's postnatal week 7 and we are (were) still having visits from our midwife.
New Zealand, as I've said before, is a very funny place. There are many things that are strange and new to us, one of them being mandatory midwifery care for pregnant women. We first met Maria when I was 5 weeks pregnant. We were wide-eyed Americans, eager to start prenatal care for our first pregnancy. Maria thought we were silly for having booked so early with her. (But she didn't tell us this until further along in the pregnancy when we got to know her. :)) I was very anxious to have a midwife, as this was not how I knew it would have gone if we were still in America. Pregnancy to me was sterile, white walls, serious discussions, planned inductions, and a guess-who game of which doctor would show up at the labor. But now that I am in New Zealand, it became a whole new ball of wax ...
40+ weeks later and on the day of our discharge from Maria's care, I can look at midwives and the practice of midwifery with new (well, 40+ weeks old) eyes. Midwifery is certainly a calling and can sometimes be a thankless job. But I think that Maria is mainly in the business of midwifery not for the thanks, but for the blessing to bring beautiful new humans into this wonderful world. Maria was made to be a midwife. She is patient, compassionate, careful, respectful and loving. She cared about me during my pregnancy. She heard every complaint of my aches and pains, answered all of our silly and stupid questions, laughed at all of Chris's jokes and comforted me with every scared and anxious tear that I cried.
You can't make me believe that my gynecologist back in America (who would have been my obstetrician, too) would have done even half as good of a job as Maria. And I liked my Ob/Gyn in Cincinnati. At the time. But like I said before, she fit my idea of pregnancy - she was serious, sterile, humorless, emotionless and who knows if she would have been the one to birth Max.
But I realize that I'm lucky, too. Many kiwi women could tell you stories about a bad midwife. The system isn't flawless here. That's why I must sing the praises of Maria to let her know and for us to remember how special she is to our family. Every single visit (minus the scans and the actual labor), Maria traveled to our home. She was thorough with her check-ups, but not as invasive as it would have been in America (They prod you WAAAAY too much and really for no reason - trust me, ladies, it's not necessary.) We heard Max's heartbeat every visit and were reassured that he was healthy and happy all the time.
And although my labor was as smooth as any woman could hope for, Maria was amazing during the difficult times: at week 19 when we thought Max had a heart defect; when I thought Max had settled breech close to the end of the labor and Maria quickly arranged a scan to reassure us that Max was perfectly anterior; and most importantly, during our postnatal period. All I can say is breastfeeding wouldn't have gone so smoothly without Maria's patience and persistence.
It's obvious that I could go on about Maria and midwives. But I won't. I just need to say thanks to Maria for supporting us throughout this most important event in our lives. Being far away from family and friends, we needed someone like you. And I know you're just doing your job. But if everyone did their job as well as you, well ... I imagine we'd all be much happier.
Thanks for everything.
Maybe we'll see you again ... but not too soon.
(Support midwives everyone!!!) (ETK)
Photo 1: Maria taking care of a tired mom and a brand new son.
Photo 2: Maria checking all of Max's vitals.
Max is officially 7 weeks old and today was the last day that Maria came to "officially" see Max as our midwife. 7 weeks postnatal, you say? Yes, it's postnatal week 7 and we are (were) still having visits from our midwife.
New Zealand, as I've said before, is a very funny place. There are many things that are strange and new to us, one of them being mandatory midwifery care for pregnant women. We first met Maria when I was 5 weeks pregnant. We were wide-eyed Americans, eager to start prenatal care for our first pregnancy. Maria thought we were silly for having booked so early with her. (But she didn't tell us this until further along in the pregnancy when we got to know her. :)) I was very anxious to have a midwife, as this was not how I knew it would have gone if we were still in America. Pregnancy to me was sterile, white walls, serious discussions, planned inductions, and a guess-who game of which doctor would show up at the labor. But now that I am in New Zealand, it became a whole new ball of wax ...
40+ weeks later and on the day of our discharge from Maria's care, I can look at midwives and the practice of midwifery with new (well, 40+ weeks old) eyes. Midwifery is certainly a calling and can sometimes be a thankless job. But I think that Maria is mainly in the business of midwifery not for the thanks, but for the blessing to bring beautiful new humans into this wonderful world. Maria was made to be a midwife. She is patient, compassionate, careful, respectful and loving. She cared about me during my pregnancy. She heard every complaint of my aches and pains, answered all of our silly and stupid questions, laughed at all of Chris's jokes and comforted me with every scared and anxious tear that I cried.
You can't make me believe that my gynecologist back in America (who would have been my obstetrician, too) would have done even half as good of a job as Maria. And I liked my Ob/Gyn in Cincinnati. At the time. But like I said before, she fit my idea of pregnancy - she was serious, sterile, humorless, emotionless and who knows if she would have been the one to birth Max.
But I realize that I'm lucky, too. Many kiwi women could tell you stories about a bad midwife. The system isn't flawless here. That's why I must sing the praises of Maria to let her know and for us to remember how special she is to our family. Every single visit (minus the scans and the actual labor), Maria traveled to our home. She was thorough with her check-ups, but not as invasive as it would have been in America (They prod you WAAAAY too much and really for no reason - trust me, ladies, it's not necessary.) We heard Max's heartbeat every visit and were reassured that he was healthy and happy all the time.
And although my labor was as smooth as any woman could hope for, Maria was amazing during the difficult times: at week 19 when we thought Max had a heart defect; when I thought Max had settled breech close to the end of the labor and Maria quickly arranged a scan to reassure us that Max was perfectly anterior; and most importantly, during our postnatal period. All I can say is breastfeeding wouldn't have gone so smoothly without Maria's patience and persistence.
It's obvious that I could go on about Maria and midwives. But I won't. I just need to say thanks to Maria for supporting us throughout this most important event in our lives. Being far away from family and friends, we needed someone like you. And I know you're just doing your job. But if everyone did their job as well as you, well ... I imagine we'd all be much happier.
Thanks for everything.
Maybe we'll see you again ... but not too soon.
(Support midwives everyone!!!) (ETK)
Photo 1: Maria taking care of a tired mom and a brand new son.
Photo 2: Maria checking all of Max's vitals.
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