Belly Tales

After signing off yesterday, I had some lunch then promptly attended three educational sessions in a row, two of which I paged. The first was entitled Cervical Ripening: What We Know and Why A Paradigm Shift is Needed for Reducing the Incidence of Preterm Birth, which focused on how our preterm labor treatments (tocolytics) are very utero-centric and concerned only with stopping contractions, while cervical ripening is often a much predictor for preterm labor. There is a lot of new research in this area, and new therapies aimed at counteracting cervical ripening might be more effective in stopping preterm labor than simply stopping contractions (which may, but often does not stop cervical ripening in any way). The speaker was very knowledgeable on her topic, which was her area of research and interest, but aside from presenting her own research, which is microscopic tissue analysis of the cervix under ultrasound to assess for markers of tissue disruption and increased water retention (precursors to ripening), there was not much which was immediately applicable to take away from her lecture. You get the sense, however, that in another 5-10 years, there will actually be drugs and assessment tools and treatments available to combat this aspect of preterm labor, which is very exciting.

The next educational session I went to was on sexual dysfunction, presented by a doctor who has spent years heading up a sex clinic in downtown Chicago and mentoring other medical and nursing students in sex therapy. While she had many, many (often sad, often hilarious) fascinating stories to relate, she really didn’t get into the nuts and bolts of sexual dysfunction in any great detail, at least not in any way that is immediately clinically applicable in terms of helping, counselling and treating couples with dyspareunia, anorgasmia, vaginismus, unconsummated mariages and premature ejaculation (although apparently you can use SSRIs, which notoriously have libido-killing side effects, to help delay and slow down men who have rapid ejaculation problems). Still, it was overall a fascinating topic, and really made me realize how little I know about sex therapy and sex counselling, which is indeed something a midwife should be pretty well versed in. While I certainly feel comfortable asking women about their sex lives, and discussing all aspects of sex and a person’s sexuality, specific treatments and counselling techniques are not at all in my repertoire, which is something that can be fixed with a little bit of reading and education.

The third educational session I attended was Menopause: Case Studies of Hormone Therapy, which was fabulous. I was astounded by how well the researchers knew the material. They made the very valid point that even though the Estrogen/Progesterone arm of the Women’s Health Initiative (WHI) was ended in 2002 due to the alarming increase in the rate of breast cancer, the other arms of the trial continued, and information is still pouring in from all sides, as well as from other studies that are now in progress. One of the speakers (Mary Brucker, CNM) termed it “research sushi”: after a large randomized control trial such as the WHI, you’re often left with more questions than answers, and in the ensuing years different aspects of the larger study are often chopped up (like sushi) into more specific questions and newer, smaller studies are mounted to try to tackle all of the questions raised. With hormone replacement therapy (HRT) at the moment, we’re apparently very much in the research sushi phase. It’s still a very grey, very unclear and ambiguous area, with very few clear guidelines or answers. While the WHI did a great job of scaring people so much that HRT is now often avoided at all costs (even when it can be very beneficial on a short-term basis for symptomatic relief of menopause), some of the information gleaned from WHI is actually, surprisingly saying the opposite. While the combined estrogen/progesterone arm increased the risk of breast cancer, apparently the estrogen alone arm of the study actually had no increased risk in breast cancer among the women treated with estrogen , and and a nearly significant decrease in risk (28% in the estrogne-alone arm, v. 34% in the placebo arm), which raises the question of whether all hormones are bad, across the board, period, end of story, or whether some hormonal therapy might actually have a very valid place in symptomatic relief (it also raised the question of what to do about women receiving unoposed estrogen without progesterone to balance it out, which has been shown to increase the risk of endometrial cancer). As you can see, very confusing stuff. They also delved into alternative treatments, such as the use of soy and phytoestrogens, Tibolone (which is used in Europe and actually had a worse Relative Risk for developing breast cancer than the combined and estrogen alone arms of the WHI), and compounded, bio-identical hormones, which also might not be the be-all-end-all cure that they are often touted as. Really, really fascinating stuff. I wish I was better versed in all of this, too, but I still find menopause and HRT very confusing.

Today started bright and early after a fairly late night dinner with a few other student midwives from Florida and North Carolina, mostly spent comparing our program experiences, mutually stressing about the board exams, and reviewing test questions that one of the students had from the test prep workshop she’d attended earlier that day. This morning I attended a great lecture on the Social Marketing of Breastfeeding, and how commercial marketing techniques can be very effectively used to market breastfeeding, especially when you break it down in terms of product, pricing, placement and promotion. She had all kinds of examples of ads from formula companies, which we then deconstructed in the class to root out the hidden, and often very sneaky and damaging hidden messages in them. Again, realizing how important language is: using the word “breastmilk repleacement” instead of “formula”, which makes it sound like a far inferior version of breastmilk, rather than a special, carefully planned, secret recipe which is just as good as breastmilk. We also talked about the importance of not only talking about the benefits of breastfeeding, but the risks involved with not breastfeeding. Again, none of this was new to me, but it was a very well put together and very concise presentation, full of good tips and suggestions, and it has really inspired me to work harder on my breastfeeding promotion and education (”selling” this amazing product—breastmilk!).

The schedule got a bit messed up, there are a few announcements on room changes and cancellations and switching of times, so the lecture on hormonal contraception counselling which I really wanted to attend, I missed. Instead, I ended up in a fascinating discussion panel on the horrific health disparities which still exist in our country, and the ways that midwives can work harder to amend these. We watched a small section of an upcoming PBS special entitled “Unnatural Causes: Is Inequality Making us Sick?”, which will air this winter in a 7 part series, and was incredibly eye-opening and terrifying in many of its implications. For example, the clip we watched demonstrated again and again that the areas of a county or city or state which have the lowest socioeconomic standing (which goes hand in hand with the highest crime rates) also have the highest rates of heart disease, pre-term birth, infant mortality, death by diabetes, hospitalization for asthma, lowest environmental standards, highest pollution and toxin exposure…the list went on and on. From the PBS website on the series:

Former U.S. Surgeon General Dr. David Satcher and his colleagues calculated that in 2002, 83,570 African Americans died who would not have died if black-white differences in health did not exist, a rate of 229 “excess deaths” per day. That’s the equivalent of one Boeing 767 being shot out of the sky and killing everyone on board every day, 365 days a year. And they are all Black. According to a by-now landmark study by Dr. Colin McCord and Dr. Harold Freeman, African American males in Harlem are less likely to reach age 65 than men in Bangladesh.

There are by now thousands of studies tracing the pathways by which racial and socio-economic status affect health. But there is virtually no popular media—no print, TV, nor web—that translate this research into forms that can build public understanding of how social policies are de facto health measures. As a result, the ‘common-sense’ wisdom remains that the poor and peoples of color get sick because they have unlucky genes, or they are just too lazy and undisciplined to to eat right, exercise and abstain frm drugs and booze. Similarly, it’s still widely believed that top executives who are dropping dead from heart and artery disease when in truth it’s their subordinates.

After watching the clip, we then moved into a very fascinating, (and very encouraging!) roundtable discussion. Midwives have always traditionally worked with underserved, indigenous populations, and it was amazing to hear about some of the changes and work that is being done around the country right now. You could feel the energy building in the room as people continued to come to the mircophone to speak. By the time the sesssion ended, the conversation had barely gotten started. Because the session is going to be repeated tomorrow, it was suggested that rather than starting over, we simply pick up the conversation again where we left off, which may or may not happen depending on how many people from today’s lecture attend the session tomorrow. In any case, though, I would watch the PBS documentary when it comes out, because it is going to raise A LOT of questions, and cause a media-world storm to descend on this long ignored issue.

Which now brings me to the present moment.  Time to find some lunch, and then sit in on an afternoon session review of the 2006 STD Guidelines (because, while I’m here, might as well attend lectures which will be useful on our board exam).  Tonight is the opening ceremony and dinner, followed by the long-awaited opening of the Exhibit Hall.  I can feel my money disappearing already.  Can’t wait!  Much more to come!

So, I arrived in Chicago last night to attend this year’s national ACNM annual meeting, which will be occurring from today, 5/25, through 5/31. Unfortunately, because I happen to be graduating on Tuesday, 5/29 (not so unfortunately, actually), I will be leaving the convention a few days early in order to get to Carnegie Hall in time. I’m flying out of Chicago on Tuesday morning at 6:00 am and arriving at La Guardia at 9:02 am. I need to be to Carnegie Hall by 11:00 am. Attention, forces of the Universe: please, please, please, let there be no weather delays, plane delays, traffic jams or other such late-making sundries on Tuesday morning (I’ve cut it a bit close)…gotta get to Carnegie Hall on time! (Yes, I have my graduation robes, mortar board and hood very unceremoniously stuffed into my carry-on backpack; if you happen to be at the graduation on Tuesday, I’ll be the one in the crumpled robes). However, the trade-off is that in return for crumpled robes, I get to attend this year’s ACNM annual meeting, even if briefly.

(I should have mentioned that I was attending this ages ago, but things have been a bit busy as of late, finishing up my clinicals (which are done!) and checking out of my program (also done!). I am now officially a GNM (graduated nurse midwife), which I will be until I pass the national board exam (hopefully sometime by the end of June, at the latest), at which point I will then (finally!) have the illustrious initials of CNM after my name. All a bit overwhelming at the moment—will have to think more about that a bit later.)

Aaaaanyway, let me tell you about Chicago! Excited doesn’t even begin to cut it. There are thousands of midwives and student midwives here. There are education sessions, workshops and meetings occurring practically round the clock. There is an exhibit hall the size of football field filled with all sorts of really, really nifty stuff that makes midwives all gooey inside, like pregnancy wheels and pamphlets on birth control and all the free pens in the world (free pens!) and loud and proud midwifery paraphernalia (will be coming home with new t-shirts and bumper stickers, I promise you), all the latest on breast pumps and prenatal vitamins and pharmaceuticals and midwifery and midwifery-related organizations, plus poster presentations on new research. More than that, though, is the opportunity to meet midwives from all over the country, network like nobody’s business, make new friends, discuss important issues, sharpen old techniques and knowledge and learn all the newest, latest, most up-to-date information, and decide on new national policy for the ACNM (the actual business meeting itself will be something to see, for sure). As the student representative from my midwifery program, I will also be meeting with other students from around the country to put together the student statement at this year’s meeting, which will be presented to the rest of the members at the business meeting. I am very excited to see what issues are important to the other student midwives of our country (I have a few ideas and input from my classmates about stuff we want to bring up, but it’ll be very interesting to see what other concerns and areas of interest are). I am so thrilled to be a part of all of this!

Anyway, it’s nearly 11:00 am, and I need to check in with the folks in Parlour B to figure out what workshops are still available to page (as a student, you can volunteer to be the page at various workshops, and therefore be able to attend the workshops for free, in return for paging—nice deal, huh?). I will be back online periodically to keep Belly Tales updated regularly, superfly live blogger that I am. More to come!

I passed!!!!!!!!

Last Friday I was a very lucky duck: I was able to attend a screening of The Business of Being Born at the Tribeca Film Festival, hosted by Friends of the Birth Center, along with a post-show talkbalk with the Abby Epstein, the director of the movie, and Ricki Lake, the producer, followed by a cocktail reception. Given that the tickets to the screening (with proceeds going to Friends of the Birth Center) had sold out in less than 24 hours, and the line waiting to get in was a roll-call of who’s who in the New York City birthing community, I felt very lucky and very privileged to be part of this experience.

Most of the early press on the film has been encouraging rather than caustic, and everything I had heard by word-of-mouth was nothing but positive. I actually know many of the midwives and nurses and one or two of the doctors that are feautured in it, and I trusted their voices and their ability to speak accurately about birth and midwifery. Even so, I must admit I’m always a bit trepidatious when it comes to anything about midwives in the mainstream media. I’m always worried that somehow the media will get it wrong—they won’t get the full picture, they won’t understand the smaller details, they’ll paint our profession in broad, misinformed strokes, or they’ll fall back on stereotypes—with the end result being that the much-needed media attention, instead of being a welcome and helpful boon, actually does nothing more than continue to misinform and confuse the public about exactly what it is we do. It’s often a mixed blessing. I was also concerned that this film might be disregarded as too far out on the fringe—that it would come across like a very slanted Michael Moore documentary and therefore not have the universal appeal needed in order for it to be taken seriously by the mainstream public.

These fears were somewhat allayed when the announcer for the film—a man—came out and assured the men in the audience that if they were expecting to suffer through a “chick flick”, they were in for a very pleasant surprise. Apparently he had been on the Tribeca Film Festival selection committee, and it was one of the other men on the committee who had first approached him about the film, saying that he had really kind of liked it and needed a second opinion. As it turns out, the film’s biggest supporterters on the selection committee were these two men, both of whom had known absolutely nothing about birth prior to watching the film, but had found it to be a very fascinating, informative and well-researched documentary. The announcer kept it short and sweet, and then, without further adieu, the lights went down, and the film began.

The Business of Being Born sets out to explore the business of maternity care in our country. Along the way, the film raises a lot of difficult questions, which it then attempts to answer: why are the infant and maternal mortality rates in the US the second worst in the world when compared to other developed countries? Why do midwives deliver 60-80% of all births in other developed countries, but only 8% here? Why is our cesarean rate so high, especially when compared to other countries which have a much lower cesarean rate but much better overall outcomes? Why are so many mothers so disatisfied with their birth experience or maternity care? Why do so many of our births occur in hospitals? Why is the prevailing attitude towards birth one of fear, rather than of trust and normalcy? You know, just the sort of complicated questions which keep midwives up at night, but which very few other people ever stop to think about (I’m pretty sure it was Pat Burkhardt, director of the NYU Midwifery program, who rightly points out that most people do more research on buying a new car or appliance or camera than they do on their choices and options when it comes to birth). The film tackles these complicated questions from several angles, including the vicious circle of medicated birth (epidural leading to pitocin leading to more epidural leading to nonreassuring fetal status leading to cesarean, all done in cute cartoon format), the pervasive fear-mongering of birth on TV and in the media, the status symbol of “too posh to push” and “designer deliveries”, insurance issues, malpractice issues, even touching upon possible implications of disturbing the delicate “love cocktail” of hormones present in unmedicated births which facilitates bonding and maternal instinct. Quite a big mouthful to bite off for one small film.

The opening sequence of the film begins at 3:25 am, as a homebirth midwife (Cara Muhlhahn) prepares her birth bag before heading out to a birth. This footage is interspersed with people discussing their initial perceptions of midwifery and midwives. Not surprisingly, many of the people being questioned have either never heard of midwives before, or assumed that they were untrained granny-midwife types. A few people express disbelief that anyone would choose to have birth somewhere other than a hospital, or with someone other than a doctor. One man says something like “I didn’t even know midwives still existed”. We cut back to the homebirth midwife in her apartment, packing her bag. The idea that midwives are untrained grannies more likely to treat you with herbs than a prescription is quietly challenged by her preparations: we see her checking her oxygen tank, preparing her suture and syringes, counting vials of pitocin and other medicines, packing liters of IV fluid still neatly sealed in their bags, along with IV tubing, and then setting off to the birth.

Without a doubt, one of the best things about this film is the sheer number of unmedicated births that it shows. While attending and seeing births was something that was familiar and commonplace to many people at the turn of the century, in its move from the home to the hospital, birth has become isolated from everyday life, no longer thought of as a routine, normal occurrence. Today, most people have never been to a birth prior to having their own baby. What few births people do see are usually on TV, where they’re either wildly dramatic, such as the screaming, frantic woman on ER, or complicated and scary, such as on A Baby Story, where it seems like routine, normal vaginal births are often passed over in favor of dramatic life-and-death births, which probably garner much better ratings. Also, whenever birth is seen on TV, it is unfailingly (inevitably) set in the hospital. However, The Business of Being Born thankfully turns all of this on its head, showing what real, normal, uncomplicated, unmedicated birth actually looks like—something most people have probably never seen before. The audience is exposed, perhaps for the first time, to the sights and sounds of unmedicated labor. Instead of screaming and drama, women are shown rocking and swaying, moaning and grunting and sweating. Instead of beeping machines and alarms sounding, heads emerge from between legs in relative silence as the mothers are left undisturbed, pushing with quiet concentration and determination. We’re shown births attended by midwives in homes and birthing centers, births in tubs and pools, births squatting and standing; we even see Ricki Lake’s homebirth, in a bathtub.

While many famous, leading authorities (Michel Odent, Marsden Wagner, Ina May Gaskin, Robbie Davis-Floyd, to name a few) and many leaders in the New York City birthing community spend a lot of time discussing the issues behind the business of birth in the film, it’s often the images themselves which speak the loudest. Forget what the experts are saying: the audience is actually able to see it, with their own eyes. The images of women concentrating and pushing with power and strength, in tubs, kneeling on beds, supported by their partners, squatting or rocking, versus the images of women flat on their backs in the hospital, covered in tubes and oxygen masks, being told to “push!”, their legs in stirrups or held by staff, supine on gurneys being wheeled to the operating room, provides a message far more clear and visceral than any book or 5-hour lecture on the subject could manage. This, more than any other aspect of the film, probably provides the greatest education to the audience.

One of the issues raised at the talk-back session after the show was the decision to include director Abby Epstein’s birth in the film. Although she was planning on having a homebirth with Cara Muhlhahn, she went into labor at 35 weeks, and because her baby was breech, she needed a cesarean. While including this birth at the end of the film does put a bit of a damper on the natural-birth/homebirth high of the film, at the same time it demonstrates a very crucial point: homebirth and midwifery care is safe care. Midwives don’t take stupid risks, they have good clinical judgement, and they make good calls; they’re not going to try to deliver a premature breech baby at home. I also think it’s important for the audience to see that birth doesn’t always go according to plan, and that flexibiilty and the ability to roll with a change in circumstance is one of the most important aspects of a successful birth experience, and that support during these difficult transitions is also key. This birth also shows the system working exactly the way it should: the midwife takes care of the low-risk patient, but when low-risk becomes high-risk, the patient is transferred to the back-up doctor, and seamless, excellent healthcare is provided to the woman.

Perhaps the only problem with this is the fact that the care is almost too seamless. When Abby Epstein mentioned to her doctor that she was planning a homebirth, his enthusiastic response is just a little too quick. You can’t help but wonder: if the camera hadn’t been there, capturing the moment, would he have so readily offered to serve as back-up, or would he have tried to talk her out of having a homebirth using scare tactics or punitive manipulation? (This is by no means a statement on this particular doctor in the film, whom I personally know to be very supportive of midwives and midwifery, but rather a statement on the larger, more generalized attitudes of doctors towards midwifery and homebirth). In reality, it’s rarely so smooth a transition, and doctors are rarely so enthusiastic when they hear that their patients are planning a homebirth. While the film touches briefly on the competition between doctors and midwives and the fact that many doctors are vehemently anti-homebirth, the smooth transition of care between Abby Epstein’s homebirth midwife and back-up doctor is potentially misleading. The audience can walk away from the film thinking that this is a very easy thing to arrange, when actually, one of the biggest barriers to providing homebirth as a viable option to more women in this country is the lack of back-up providers and the challenges faced in trying to arrange appropriate back-up; rather than being smooth and easy, it’s often complex, frustrating and fraught with politics.

My only other critique of the film is that it is perhaps a bit too black and white: homebirth v. hospital, midwife v. doctor, unmedicated, natural childbirth v. monstrosity of tubes and terror. While the film did follow a hospital-based midwife (Catherine Tanksley), and showed midwives in hospitals, the emphasis seemed to be on homebirth. The truth is that in this country far more midwives practice in hospitals than they do in homes, and the word “midwife” is not synonymous with “unmedicated childbirth”. While midwives are experts in normal, unmedicated births, we’re not anti-epidural or anti-hospital. We can prescribe narcotics and pain relief in labor, we can order epidurals, we can support a woman through a medicated birth experience just as easily as an unmedicated birth—it really just boils down to the desires, needs and expectations of the woman and her family. Unfortunately, I can very easily see a woman walking away from this film and thinking “well, midwives are great for natural childbirth, but I want an epidural, so I guess that means I’ve got to go to a doctor”. While all of the beautiful, natural homebirths in this film are a joy and privilege to watch, I think one or two equally beautiful and joyous hospital births attended by midwives might have added a more balanced perspective to the film.

Nevertheless, overall I thought the film was truly amazing; it brought tears to my eyes on several occassions. Rather than being far out on the left fringe as I had feared, I was actually blown away by how mainstream and accessible it was. It begins with the assumption that the audience knows absolutely nothing about birth and the business of birth in this country, and then moves on from there, using a simple and easy-to-understand, yet powerful and engrossing format and narrative. Forget the Ricki Lake Show; I think this film will be a new highlight in her career, and I’m very grateful that a film like this has finally been made. I want all of my friends, my beloved boy, my family, my peers, to see this film so that they can finally see and understand exactly what it is that I do, and why I do it, and what I believe in. Hopefully this film will be picked up by a national distributor and shown in cities all over the country; hopefully soon it will be playing at a theater near you. If it is, you’ll have to go and see it—and bring all of your friends with you!

Well, they’re done! Not “pshaw” as in “piece of cake”, but “pshaw” as in: “well, they’re done, don’t know if we passed or not, but at least it’s OVER!” We took our Comprehensive exams yesterday, and all in all, the entire experience feels somewhat anti-climatic: so much preparing and worrying and stress and studying, drilling each other, making flashcards, going over all of our lectures, taking practice tests—hell, we even went on a study retreat at a friend’s cabin in Connecticut, each of us bringing a heavy suitcase filled with books, where we studied pretty much nonstop for two days—and then *poof*, 6 hours later and the exams are over before you even know what hit you! And they were indeed hard: parts of them were harder than other parts, and some things I had expected to be really hard, like the multiple choice section, actually seemed to be somewhat easier than I had anticipated. Last year, only two out of six students passed the Comps the first time around. One student passed them on the retake, and three students had to re-do their Integration. We’re certainly hoping for a better pass-ratio this year, but unfortunately, we won’t know the results until Monday. I am still pretty anxious about it, to be sure, and I have all of my fingers and toes crossed; I’ll keep all of you posted, of course, and thank you so much for all of the support! Last night, though, we went out for drinks anyway just to celebrate the fact that we’re done! No use worrying yourself sick when you can’t do anything about it at this point, might as well just celebrate having survived the entire process, and we’ll worry about re-takes if it comes to that, but not before!

So, I basically have three weeks of intrapartum clinicals left. No school, no classes, just catching babies (wheee!). And then, assuming I passed my comps, all I have left to do is graduate, take the national Board exams, and then….and THEN…..oi, I can’t even say it yet. I don’t want to jinx it. I’ll keep all of you posted.