Boundaries

Not everyone has to be perfect at everything, and I’ve always known that, but recently, that knowledge has been living in my body instead of just my mind.

When an anaethetist says ‘have you got her history’ and I take my piece of paper out so I can get it right, as opposed to someone who would know it off by heart, I no longer cringe. I am okay with who I am. I keep my clients safe, both physically and emotionally. I am no longer worried about doing this perfectly and instead, see the merits of achieving this as a real human being. (And plus, I might be more accurate than some people trying to do it off pat…)

Getting to this stage took time. As a student and newly qualified midwife, I felt I had much to prove. I don’t think settling into this career is easy until a few years in. But still, I used to internalise everything that was happening, particularly when it was harsh. I could have had a much easier midwifery upbringing had I not soaked up all the Delivery Unit (and other area) intensity, and retained some of my perspective and inherent belief in my skills.

 I’m not the only midwife who believes that while clinical expertise can be gained by turning up, paying attention, and trying hard, emotional availability and advocacy based on who your client is are more complex skills to aquire. I am embracing my core abilities and believe that’s exactly where I should be at.

The Mountains are Closer to the Sea

I did a project similar to ‘Heartwork’ last year called ‘The Safe House Letter Set’. This was a series which documented coming back to myself after going through a catastrophic clinical event. It was a horrible thing to go through, for everyone (the client more than me, of course) but what strikes me reading through my work from then is how under attack I felt. There has been change in me in the last 12 months. It’s been a glacially slow process that is hard to see day to day, but I feel like I’ve woken up and noticed the mountains are closer to the sea. It’s subtle, but when you work at these things it can feel like magic.

My work is, of course, nowhere near done. But there is real hope that on the correct journey. I can see how this career might fit me for once, rather than the other way around.

A Predisposition

I am also now someone who believes that bodies can give us symptoms that mean something psychologically. In the Letter Set it was clear that I was struggling with this idea. But I have recently got a neurological diagnosis for something I’ve had for a long time. It’s PPPD (Persistent Postural Perceptual Dizziness) and I’m working with an audiologist who thinks its completely curable, if you can do the emotional work. What’s notable for me is that the other PPPD patients I’m now in touch with have a similar personality to me. We are ambitious, hard-working, interested in the emotional wellbeing of the people around us, and we are very, very hard on ourselves.

In last year’s Letter Set, I wrote about Gabor Maté, the trauma specialist doctor who believes that life-threatening conditions like cancer or MS can come from emotional problems. I still don’t 100% agree with him, as health is complicated, and we don’t have the research to understand all environmental factors, but I think he does have a big piece of the picture. I have a dear friend with MS who suffered sexual abuse as a child and there’s lots of research on there being a link there. So my current thinking now that I’ve met other dizzy people is that people pleasing can mean you’re in a constant state of stress. If you are trying to change yourself or your emotions like a chameleon changes colour, but using none of those skills to soothe yourself, that has consequences. PPPD sufferers throw their own emotional needs away. If you do that for too long, your nervous system will come to believe you are under attack at all times. There is no healthy relaxation, just watchfulness. I can see why anybody in such a state would start to become compromised, and my own genetic predisposition is to have that present as dizzyness.