Some People…

I’ve been wanting to write this post for about 7 months now, but the timing just didn’t seem quite right, and then I got kinda caught up with something else *lol*… I know a lot of my blog probably seems quite disjointed, but that’s because I don’t like to write about something until it feels “complete”, like a neat little package tied up with string, or as Oprah would say, an “aha” moment. I thought the story was complete back then for different reasons, but it still had a little more to play out, I just didn’t know it… so here we are!

I spend a lot of time reflecting on different things that have happened in my life, and the reasons for which they might have happened. I’m a big believer that everything happens for a reason, and that people come into your life sometimes, people that you wouldn’t expect to play such an important part in changing your life. And how funny it is that sometimes the universe just seems to guide you to these people, making sure that you meet them, making sure that nothing gets in the way of what is meant to happen for you.

So, today I’m going to write about this wonderful lady and how we were meant to meet under very routine circumstances, but for an extraordinary reason. My midwife, aka my “Fairy Godmother”, Hazel.

When I first found out I was pregnant with Lola, I was excited, but in all honesty I was terrified of going back to the Royal Brisbane Hospital, where I had Josh.  My GP referred me to the Ipswich Hospital, because I knew I’d probably have another fast labour and it was closer, but I didn’t know what I wanted to do.  One part of me was thinking better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, so I held onto my referral for quite some time while I decided what I wanted to do.  I was at the point where I was going to ask my Doctor to refer me to the RBH again, but something stopped me and I decided to send my referral off to Ipswich and just hope for the best.

I mentioned in one of my earlier posts that at my booking in appointment, the midwife there had suggested a midwife-led program that they ran and I had put my name down for it hoping I would get in, even though it was quite late.

A few weeks later Hazel, the midwife for my area, rang and left a message saying she was terribly sorry but they had no spots available and that she would put me on the waiting list. Funny thing is, I never got that voicemail.

So, a few days after that, Hazel rang back to tell me that she had shuffled a few of her patients around, and that I could be in the program after all.  Which was news to me, seeing as I had no idea that I hadn’t made it onto the list in the first place!  So, I just put it down to my scatterbrained state and didn’t really think too much about it, I was just glad that I was on the program.  When I first met Hazel at one of my appointments, I really liked her – she had an air of confidence about her that made me feel completely at ease.  She was no-nonsense but kind and I felt like, even though I was nervous about giving birth again, that I could trust her completely and I’d get through it.

When the time came to have Lola, I called Hazel and because she only lives a couple of streets away she was there very quickly.  The first thing she did was just give me a big hug and said excitedly, “it’s a birthday!”. She commiserated with me about the pain and didn’t make me feel stupid for making noise. I remember my panic dying down as soon as she was there and rocking me through my contractions. She was waiting at the door of the hospital when we got there, and she would stop with me every contraction and just rock me through it and soothe me in such a gentle voice.  I knew things were urgent (put it this way, Lola arrived only 10 minutes after we got to the hospital), but she never let onto me.  Because of Hazel, I had a beautiful, calm birthing experience… one that I will cherish forever and wish that more women could have.

We headed for home only a few hours after Lola was born.  As part of the program, patients are discharged early, but have home care with their midwife.  Hazel would drop in after work to check on me and Lola, help us with feeding, and offer some supportive words.  I remember one time I was doubting my ability to look after Lola, and she said “all she needs is you”, and it was one of the best things anyone had ever said to me. She would come at 6:00 in the morning when I needed her to help me feed Lola.  She would come on her days off.  She would call me to make sure everything was okay. And then the strangest thing happened…

I became quite attached to Hazel.

I couldn’t imagine how I would get through the day without her visits.  I had a bad case of the “baby blues” for the first few weeks after Lola was born, and that first week was an extremely dark time for me. As the sun would go down each day, I would cry uncontrollably and feel utter panic, like I couldn’t breathe and I had no idea how I’d make it through to the morning. Those visits from Hazel were all that kept me going.  I was dreading the Friday because I knew Hazel wouldn’t be around over the weekend, and I didn’t know how I’d cope.  I looked forward to the Monday, knowing that she’d come for a visit, but when it finally rolled around, she couldn’t make it as she had to attend another birth.

I was heartbroken… Honestly, it felt like the boyfriend I’d just broken up with had started dating another girl just a couple of days later.  Hazel was MY midwife! I didn’t WANT her to move on from me so quickly.  I didn’t WANT another baby to be her “new” baby.  I didn’t WANT someone else to have that experience with her.  It was MINE!! I wanted to be the special one for just a little bit longer. I had a bad case of separation anxiety, like a baby who wanted it’s mother.  And the weirdest thing was, I just couldn’t explain it.  During one of these “night terrors”, as we began to refer to them, I rang my stepmum that night and I told her how weird it was.  This wasn’t like me!  I barely get attached to anyone, let alone a woman who, let’s face it, I’d only really known for a matter of hours!

When Hazel next came to visit, I confided in her that I was feeling that way. {Except maybe I put it differently so I didn’t seem like a psychotic stalker. LOL!} She assured me that it was completely natural, that she had shared an experience with me that was special and it was normal to feel a strong bond.  Hazel came for her last official visit on a Saturday, her day off, and she just sat and listened while I talked to her about my feelings, how isolated I felt, how terrified I was of this baby. At the end of the visit, I asked her if this would be our last visit, and she said “yes, I think so”.

I was kind of hoping she’d say, “you know what, I just live a couple of streets away… How about I just drop in every afternoon for the foreseeable future”, but never mind – LOL!

I did run into Hazel a couple of times in the weeks following, and my heart would jump with joy whenever I saw her.  She knew how isolated I felt, so she even organised a meeting with her and another young mum in the area, again while on her holidays.  She would pop in just to say hi while she was walking her dog. If I saw her walking past, we’d wave and say hello or she’d stop for a quick chat. She went above and beyond what she needed to do for her job.  I never once felt like she was “just doing her job”, she really did care. I remember asking Marty one day if he thought maybe Hazel would be one of those people who is like an Aunt that you have that isn’t really any relation, but they are just part of your life.  He said maybe (probably thinking, gee can we just get over Hazel already?!?). So, I was happy enough, imagining Hazel and I in 30 years time, age being no barrier to our friendship, having cups of tea and shortbread hanging out in our respective nursing homes.  LOL! Things got easier, that anxiety I had been feeling died down, that attachment that I felt seemed to naturally kind of drift off, and life went on.

I still to this day can’t understand why I had those feelings, why I became so attached to her.  Maybe it was because she made me feel like I was okay, she validated me, she made me feel like I was doing a good job as a mother.  But I think it might have been my soul calling out to me saying this woman is going to change your life in ways you can’t even imagine,  you just don’t know it yet.

Then, our lives were turned upside down with the flood, and those times seemed like a distant memory.  Hazel was a great support throughout that time, and was always there to make sure everything was okay.  She would send messages of support, or give me a call to check up on how we were holding up. If she saw us in the area, she’d visit. Or if I needed to feed Lola while I was on the road, she’d let me feed her at her place instead of in the car like I usually did.  She made sure I didn’t feel forgotten.

Then, one day, I got a message from Hazel.  Her husband does work for the Bellbowrie Lion’s Club and she wanted to know if she could give them my details to put on the list for any offers of work that were going around.  I didn’t really understand what the Lion’s Club did, and she explained what their role was in the community. I said sure, we’d gladly accept any help we could get!

So, her husband, while doing his Lion’s Club work one day, was calling up all the people in the area who had helped during the flood to thank them and ask them if they had any services that they could offer to those in need.  Just so happened that Lucas had hosted the medical centre in his house, so he was on the call list. And when Hazel’s hubby asked him if there were any other services he’d like to offer, he said “well, actually…”

And that’s how we got our home back.  It wasn’t Hazel’s direct doing of course, but I can’t deny that if I hadn’t met her, if I had gone to the RBH instead of Ipswich, if I had gotten that original voicemail, if she hadn’t shuffled those patients, if I hadn’t become insanely attached to her during that time, that none of this would have happened for us.  It was meant to be, and someone was making sure that our paths would cross.

Our friendship has continued since then, and while we don’t have cups of tea in our respective nursing homes just yet, I’m sure it will continue for a long time yet.  When speaking to her earlier this week, we found that we had more in common than we thought, had shared some similar life experiences and we understand each other.

I chose to write this post now because today is an important day for Hazel.  And I want her to know that she has made a difference in my life. And I know she would have made a difference in many other people’s lives as well.  She is an inspiration to me as a person, as a mother.  She helped me to have a birthing experience that wiped out my bad memories of the first one. She made me feel confident in my ability to be a mother. To be so kind and caring to a girl who was really just another patient, who she didn’t know from a bar of soap. To go so far above what she needed to do to make sure I was okay when she could have just done her job and let me go through that confusing time alone.  She has a heart of pure gold and I will be forever grateful to her for everything she has done for me and my family.  She has a very special place in my heart, she seems to sprinkle a little bit of sunshine wherever she goes, and I’m very lucky to have met such an amazing woman.

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go.  Some stay for a while and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same.”