Call the Midwife

  Call the Midwife!

just how far has midwifery advanced?

four midwives from surrey discuss how they are still ‘over worked and underpaid.’

The first series of Call the Midwife earlier this year was a huge success, starring the popular comedienne Miranda Hart. The series is based on the 2002-bestselling memoirs of Jennifer Worth, set in East London in the 1950’s. The series reveals the past of midwifery and the horrific conditions some midwives had to work in in the days of homebirths. The series also stresses the dreadful situations some women found themselves in, before high awareness and wide availability of contraception. The director Philippa Lowthorpe commented on the series, “In birth the midwife is forgotten,” she wanted to work with the program because “in reality, midwifes are the unsung heroes.”

       

To find out more about midwifery in the twenty first century I spoke to four midwives at Frimley Park Hospital in Surrey. The women were of varied ages and experience and all had different concerns about the conditions they work in now, and the advancement of midwifery. 

I questioned the women as to what they think is the biggest change in childbirth since Jennifer Worth’s days of midwifery. They agreed that the awareness of contraception and accessibility of abortion has been the main change since the 1950’s and the most significant advance. One midwife explained that as deliveries are now primarily is hospital they are better dealt with and women are now more informed. Another midwife stated: “I find most girls are aware of birth control choice now.”

With the advance of technology in hospitals and drugs used during childbirth one midwife is concerned that this is having a damaging effect on the way we see childbirth. “I believe the NHS has advanced in technological terms, saving lives, however reducing the amount of ‘trust’ women have in themselves and their bodies to give birth to their infants naturally without relying on technology/drugs.” Perhaps Call the Midwife is so popular because it celebrates women having successful births and healthy babies in the most trying of circumstances. The midwives in the series are likeable because they show resourcefulness and initiative, in current day practice this is not as necessary. One of the midwives who has been practicing thirty two years clarified this, ‘we are grounded by guidelines and protocols, midwives however, like the TV program, are usually superb people who will go the extra mile for women in their care.’        

As technology advances perhaps midwives are less reliant on their initiative, there is room for speculation on how well trained they are to cope with a crisis outside a hospital. Likewise there is an argument that nurses and midwives training is now too academic based.  Both are university degrees, whereas they used to learn on the job with part-time college education.  One midwife observed “midwifery and nursing has changed a lot, it is now an academic course. I feel this is sad and excludes a lot of people from midwifery/nursing who are not so academic but would make a good midwife/nurse.” With university entry requirements and fees, this isolates some people who would make good midwives.

The terrible conditions the women in the days of Call the Midwife had to put up during homebirths resulted in poor hygiene and infection levels. I asked the midwives how they find the conditions now. One of them replied, “Hygiene is not as much of an issue as when I started my nursing or when I worked in London. It varies with each area.” The most experienced midwife said that “the biggest cause of maternal morbidity is sepsis, so cleanliness should be high in agenda.” 5.2 million cases of maternal sepsis occur each year with 62,000 dying. In Africa sepsis is the leading cause of maternal death. All the women agreed that the hygiene in their hospital was to a high level.

The staff midwives at the hospital all told me that they were unhappy with their working hours; some shifts are up to fifteen hours with a lack of breaks. When I asked one midwife whether she was happy with her hours she responded, “No, I would prefer 12.5 hour shifts, I’m currently working 15 hours.” Another midwife explained that there is a “rapid turn around from day/night shifts.” They described that the maternity unit is very busy and often they are overwhelmed with the responsibility placed on them. So maybe midwifery hasn’t advanced as much as we thought.

I questioned the women as to whether they stereotypically felt, ‘overworked and underpaid.’ One midwife stated, “constantly, but I would still never work anywhere else or in any other job.” It seems that these women are dedicated to their jobs and therefore more likely to put with bad working conditions. One midwife explained: “for the amount of money we are paid as a midwife the responsibility is often too great.” Midwives are key workers in the community that we simply couldn’t do without, alike doctors, if they feel underpaid why isn’t this issue being addressed? Perhaps because midwives are too busy delivering babies to be pulling strikes.   

JIMEOIN: IS HE REALLY LOVELY?

My first impression of Jimeoin left me a little deflated. After watching Jimeoin next to Michael McIntyre in his Comedy Roadshow, I felt that although the comedian was amusing, he didn’t have me cracking up like McIntyre. So when Jimeoin announced he was coming down to Brighton on his of tour Lovely (2012), I thought for £15 I would see if the Irish-Austrian comedian could prove me wrong.   

Jimeoin took to the stage of Komedia Comedy Club in the North Lanes last night. The venue is very popular in Brighton. However I was disappointed that the club was actually very run down, with shoddy seating and overpriced drinks. We were the first ones there and bravely took front row seats; luckily we escaped with minimal disgraces.

The comedian took to the stage for an hour and a half, fortunately with no tedious support acts! He had most of his audience in stitches for the duration but me; I found his jokes mildly amusing but far from hysterical. If stand up is your thing, seeing Jimeoin in your local town is a good night out, but he is no McIntyre.    

Red and Yellow Buses

  When I first came to Brighton I had a little red car. Thankfully I didn’t have much to do with Brighton & Hove public transport. Back then I only had the pleasure of the university bus, the N25, on nights out. Waiting in those concrete bus shelters in the pissing rain for the N25 to take us back to Falmer whilst devouring cheesy chips from RFC, those were the days. When the bus finally turned up it was forty minutes of trying to keep tequila, vodka and cheesy chips down.
   When the little red car failed its MOT, I had to sell it to the scrap yard and join all the bus wankers on a permanent basis. It seems that no journey spent on the Brighton & Hove buses goes uneventfully. Yesterday I was refused on a bus for not having a valid ticket (although I did!), I had to argue with the driver for a good five minutes until he realised his power trip was not going to work on me! Last week I had to witness an eighteen-year-old chav and a drunk forty year old squaring up to one another. For five minutes they dished out all sorts of threats including the classic parent insults followed by: “What did you say about my mother?” The elderly and younger passengers looked on terrified while the bus driver hid in his hole and I contemplated whether it was my duty to settle the dispute.
    A few days ago now I think I saw my best display of madness in Brighton yet. It was pissing it down. I was stood outside the county hospital waiting for a bus, the only other person there was a young mother with her child in a pram (which Brighton has more than it’s fair share of!). A minute later a homeless looking man joined us. He suddenly started swearing, shouting, singing and kicking the air. Definitely off his rocker. I acted as a barrier between the smelly old man and the young child. The singing got so loud I decided I would rather stand in the rain. Two number 7’s turned up at the same time and the mum made a break for the second bus. I got stuck with the lunatic. I sat down on the bus whilst he paraded around the bottom of the bus, like it was his very own stage in the west-end, disturbing all the Brightonions off to the Mariana. The bus driver carried on the route ignoring the mental man causing a disturbance. When I stepped off the bus and watched it pull away, I could see him through the window doing a little twirl around the pole, and thought, well at least he’s happy.

A Weekend By The Sea

   Jenny took a long last look at herself in the mirror. She was in her old bedroom at her parents’ house. Jenny had dreamt of this day her whole life. Now she was here; dressed up in a white silk dress. But as she glanced over her pale freckly skin, and her auburn hair, she felt plain. This is supposed to be the most special day of her existence. But something felt wrong. Jenny didn’t feel like this was a beginning, she felt more like it was the end.

  Jenny has been with her fiancée, John for five years. He is a good man, but not a terribly exciting one. John is fixed in his ways, working nine to five in an estate agents and religiously goes to his two hobbies twice a week: squash on a Tuesday night and football on a Sunday morning. He doesn’t smoke or drink often and spends all his of his time with Jenny.

   That’s the problem really. They are best friends, and Jenny is finding it progressively harder to find John mysterious or attractive, because the only things he does are under her instruction.

  Jenny likes John to rely on her; it makes her feel needed and secure. But she wanted more. Jenny fantasizes of him cooking and cleaning, surprising her with presents, and even sex in public, threesomes, and maybe a few orgies! Jenny was thirty-one and just because all her friends were married with children, she didn’t understand why society said she should settle down. It seems that for women it’s a non-returnable route in life. Whereas men can switch lifestyles as and when they bloody like!      

  She looked up at the mirror and noticed one her bridesmaids, Alex, waiting for her. Jenny thought how fantastic Alex’s tits looked in her dress. She had picked that one for Alex especially.

 With Jenny’s family and friends waiting in the church she knew she had no choice. Everyone woman has to play this role despite whether they suite white. Jenny focused on getting through the ceremony. John hadn’t wanted to waste money on an expensive honeymoon, as it’s the school holidays. So it’s a weekend by the sea, Brighton.

Brighton suits me.      

New Fashioned Romance

Clubbing, drinking, smoking, short skirts, fried food, Facebook, smart phones. There’s hardly any room for romance anymore. This is not exactly the best love story you have ever heard.

  Millie walked home alone. She insisted. She wanted to stroll. She wanted to smoke. She wanted to walk along the pebbles barefoot with her heels tucked under her arm. She had spent all night with Jim. There was nothing romantic about it. They met in Brighton’s dirtiest club, Digital. They had just chosen one another to rub up against. They went on to Pascha, a small club full of Turkish men, that’s open till eight am. To sober up they stumbled down to a café on the front, Buddies, for a full English breakie.

   The alcohol is starting to wear off. I think he is good looking, I can’t remember. I can hardly make out his features now. I will look him up on Facebook as soon as I get home. That reminds me I need to charge my iPhone.

Oh! I didn’t get his number!

I’m sure he’ll ‘add’ me. 

He has to be stopped!

 He has to be stopped! Ever since he started secondary school, he has been a menace. Running around like an ape, causing destruction wherever he goes for the last fifteen years. I used to be called into school countless times, these days I get called in by the police. He is un-controllable. I don’t know where his father and I went wrong. Ok we are divorced. But that doesn’t mean anything these days; we both love him.

  He just won’t behave himself, if he’s not drinking himself into oblivion, he’s smoking weed and snorting coke. I would like to think my son is good looking, but no girl is interested in him. Usually because he passes out way before he could give affection to a girl.

  What a waste of space. If he wasn’t my own flesh and blood! I’ve said to him,       

  ‘Please stop smoking, it’s making you brain dead.’   

He just replies:

  ‘Chill out Mum, weed never hurt anyone.’

And I think to myself, what an ugly chimp. I can’t cope with him alone. His father will have to deal with him.

*

‘Two English Breakfast’s, Son’

I place the food in front of my spotty troublesome son. I look like a businessman buying a homeless kid grub. He has no meat on him at all. All skinny with small shoulders, not a man at all. He gets it from his mother’s side. He gulps the food down like he’s never eaten before.

  I suppose he thinks I’m stupid. That I don’t know he’s had two spliffs’ on the fifteen-minute walk here, and now he has the munchies. Of course I smoked dope in my teens, but only at parties to look cool in front of the ladies, (it was the 60’s), but not everyday!

  This boy is a waste of space; there is nothing I can do to change him. His mother is wrong. Drug habits cannot be ‘stopped’.        

Friendship

We all have the opportunity to make a variety of friends. School friends, College friends, University friends and friends we just meet along the way. But how do we determine which ones are worth making, which ones are worth keeping and which ones are worth trusting?

I alike many, make split decisions on people the first time I meet them. I decide if I like them, if they are a good person and whether they feel good to be around. I have many friends that have been loyal to me over the years; but just a few of them have broken my heart.

No matter how much you want to believe that a person is good and that they will change, you have to accept that they have no respect for you or themselves. Savage Garden told me that ‘forgiveness is the key to your unhappiness’, which I have discovered is true. Allowing someone to walk all over you time and time again is not worth your pain or pride.

I guess it’s all a process of growing up. But I wonder how many people will let me down before I find my true friends. They say that friends are the family we make for ourselves, but to truly believe this would mean that when a friend betrays you it hurts you, more than most. Maybe the lesson to be learn't is regardless of how much you love a friend, they are not your family and family is the only thing worth fighting for.