Mumand midwife a special bond
Ihave to admit, when Jacinda Ardern thanked her midwife Libby for making her mac and cheese, among other important things, it gave me all the feels, as the kids would say.
It’s a strangely unique bond you form with your midwife.
Both times I gave birth, the (expensive) private obstetricians I’d come to trust over the previous seven months, were away overseas on holiday.
But Noreen, my midwife, was there through it all. She’s the one who told me before anyone else could possibly have known, that my baby girl had red hair. Noreen never once grumbled about making the trek out to our remote coastal house, multiple times, to see that we were all OK.
But I only realised how strongly I felt about Noreen 15 years later, when I spotted a face that looked familiar in the supermarket.
For a brief second I had to think why I knew this person, and then I was literally running to her and picking her up in a bear hug (she’s only a wee thing), embarrassing myself and probably her as well with a large public show of affection.
Noreen is retired from midwifery now, but was a rock of calm encouragement and knowledge for hundreds (thousands?) of families. To me she is a saint.
Every time I see reports of the stress, inadequate pay and poor conditions that midwives tolerate – albeit in rapidly shrinking numbers – I cringe and wonder why we persist in under valuing such a crucial job? Libby, Noreen and their colleagues are worth their weight in gold to the new mums and dads they help.
Ardern’s midwife came to the rescue with macaroni and cheese after a sleepless first night.