So how did I get here? I am sat here, aged 23, two rabbits causing trouble. Phone going off like crazy. I am a midwife, a real midwife. Where have these last 5 years gone? What happened to 18?
I never wanted to be a midwife. Thriving at school and sixth form in music and performing arts, I wanted to teach. I am good at singing but not good enough to make it anywhere or make a career with it. Knowing my parents were not too keen on the idea either.
One day, I started a work experience. ‘Birth and Beyond’ It was called, a program for pregnant women under 21. I found it absolutely fascinating! Conception, pregnancy, birth and then contraception. The google came along, ‘What do I need to do to be a midwife’. I could not get many answers so I turned to my head of year. She was baffled, I knew this but she did not show it. Looking into UCAS at courses it was about a 70% chance of not getting onto a course. I still applied. I am sure me or my teacher had no clue on how competitive it was to get in. Not until I went to my first university open day in Bradford. This was my mams favourite. Closer to home… I knew I did not want that. They stated on the day that they preferred ‘Mature Students’ so I told little young me that I would not even get an interview, and I didn’t. They offered me a place on another course which I did not want to take.
Keele University, first sight I loved it. Friendly staff (so I thought at the time) and an amazing cosy feel to the campus. I applied and after the most nerve racking interview I got a conditional offer! Shit, conditional… Now the hard work begins!
I am not the most academic person (my sister is probably reading this right now seeing all my grammar and spelling issues – spell check is not working my way Gemma). To achieve what I had to achieve I had to work hard. Really hard. The harder I worked the worst my anxiety got. All the way through A-Levels I told myself I would not do it. That I would fail. To be fair I nearly did. I studied, Music Btec, Performing Arts Btec and Psychology A-Level. Btecs were my saviours which I flied by. Psychology however, was very, very difficult. Hours and hours of revision, screaming, crying and panic attacks all aimed at my mam (Sorry love you). I still came out with a D, a D!!! I was around so many academic people who were pissed off about their B’s. I got a D and that pushed my UCAS points to 320. 40 points more than I needed.
University…. Was not my favourite 3 years of my life. However, it grew me. Turned me into an adult. Hahahaha not really. What did I learn? 1. You do put weight on from nights out, no matter how much dancing you do. 2. Do not smell test fish out of date, it is not nice and will put you off salmon for a month. 3. Dominos pizza is the best food to grace this earth. 4. Not everybody will like you. 5. Lecturers can be dicks. 6. Some Dr’s are dicks. 7. Not everybody will understand your humour. 8. To be myself. 9. Stress does make you ill. 10. How not to deal with money.
My anxiety really thrived in university. I failed exams and made myself ill. Still don’t believe to this day I actually passed as a midwife! I told myself all the way through that I cannot do it, I will fail. I researched other jobs I could go it, even applied to new jobs when I knew I failed an exam. Why oh why did I carry on? I hated it, actually hated it. My family kept me going, how could I leave now? I will be such a failure to them all. Also, placement. Placement kept me going. I was not good academically, I was rubbish at remembering guidelines but I could talk them. This was my biggest issue, why was I assessed on writing about being a midwife, but not actually assessed on being a midwife! (Sorry Keele you failed at this- I know you have corrected it now).
So I did end up qualifying, 3 years later. Aged 22 exactly. 3 attempts by the university to make me leave. 3 issues risen above and pushed through. I was the last in my year to finish, to get my EU statistics, to pass my exams. 2:2 they gave me. Did I give a shit about my class? no.
The job. The year of 2017 I fell in love with a job, a way of midwifery. Again, anxiety told me I would not get it and I would have to work in retail until I got it (nothing wrong with that by the way). One to One Midwives, caseloading, on-call, DIARY MANAGEMENT. Sitting there in that little room in April, listening to who could be my future colleagues and I was so excited. I applied, Interview and got the job! At the interview I told myself again I would not get it. Rachel, who I was at university with was at the same interview, mature student. Another midwife at the interview, also older than me. Why would they want a little young midwife, that hasn’t had much life experience and cannot tell her NICE guidelines from her RCOG at the interview – I also had no clue about Better Births. Anyway, fast forward to the 1st June 2017 I got the call off lovely Skye to tell me I got the job – I was high on morphine at the time as I had a laparoscopy that same day. I thought I dreamt the whole conversation until I got an email to confirm!
So that brings me to today. 1.5 years in the job, still loving it but moving on. Anxiety has told me it is time to move on, move back home and see what that brings. I try not to let anxiety control me at all, I think it is part of me. It drives me to who I am, it gives me instincts (which isn’t that bad as a midwife).
This is my blog of my stories of being a midwife and dealing with my anxiety.
Learning Motherhood 