To whom it may concern, Imagine this…
You present for your first shift working in the hospital, and it is so busy staff barely have the time to introduce themselves, ask you your name or show you where to put your things. You find the staff room and put your things away, then make your way to delivery suite, where you notice straightaway how intense the heat is. You join handover, the board is full of patients everything is so foreign and you feel so out of your depth, but you are excited and eager to get stuck in. You look around for your mentor, trying to find a friendly face. The team leader asks you, ‘who are you working with?’
Your mentor isn't there. She has changed her shift and no one let you know. Why would they? You are only a student. You get put to work with someone else for that shift, your name is written on the board as ‘student midwife’—little do you know this will be your label for the next three years. You walk over to the midwife, praying inside that they are friendly; your palms are sweaty and your heart is racing. They let out a sigh and you can see them thinking, ‘Oh great, lumbered with the first-year student midwife—what use are they to me?’
You work the shift and it is hard work: you have never worked a 12-hour shift before. It is hot, your feet hurt, you are hungry and you avoid going to the bathroom. You are scared to ask questions, so you just watch and, despite everything, it feels amazing to share in this life changing experience with women.
The shift comes to an end, and as you walk home, drained, you get a sinking feeling … you have to go back tomorrow. You go home and cry—it is all so emotional. You are scared to go back and, as your eyes become heavy, your last thought and prayer is that your mentor tomorrow is kind.
Your alarm goes off at 5 am. You feel tired because you didn't sleep well, worrying about what today will bring. Your eyes are red from crying, but you pull yourself together and get ready. As you walk to work, you imagine what the day has in store. The closer you get to the delivery suite, the faster your heart races and the sinking feeling comes back. You stand in handover again, looking for someone who might be your mentor. Someone smiles back … oh let's hope it's her!!! It is; and she is lovely. You feel relieved—maybe it's not all bad.
For the next three years you go into work every day, sacrificing special events in your life. You are not paid to be there but you work the same shifts as your mentors; weekends, birthdays and even Christmas. Your friends and family don't always understand how much hard work it is being a student midwife.
After three years some people still don't know your name and don't bother to ask. You are just a student midwife: ‘Get the student to do it’, ‘that student’, ‘you are only a student’ and ‘as a student you should know your place’. The majority of the staff are friendly, but the few who are not make an already difficult job even harder. Why do you put yourself through this? It is because you are passionate about becoming a midwife and this has been your dream for so long.
So now I ask you … what if this were your daughter, mother, sister or best friend telling you this story? How would it make you feel to know your loved one cried themselves to sleep, or that someone at work was so horrible to them that they questioned if they wanted to pursue their dream. How would you feel towards that person? What if that person is you?
When you see a student, take time to smile, say hello and show them where they can leave their bag. You may not realise it, but one small act of kindness can go a long way. We may be ‘just students’, but we are also humans with feelings. Becoming a midwife is one of the most difficult rollercoaster rides, but it can be made a bit easier by the midwives and mentors that help you along the way.
Yours faithfully,
The student
PS: I am pleased to say that I finally have a name in my new job.