Striking the balance: hopes and reality of birth

Striking the balance: hopes and reality of birth

A few weeks ago a midwife colleague shared this article “The Scary Truth About Child Birth” and shortly after I heard a compelling interview with the author.

While I’m not too keen on the bloody scalpel-beaked stork banner image, I fully accept the criticism that we haven’t yet perfected childbirth preparation or postpartum support. Perhaps in our efforts to combat an era of “let-the-professionals-take-care-of-this-dear,” we have swung the pendulum to the opposite extreme of “your-body-will-do-this-if-you-only-believe.”

 

Neither is really fair to anybody.

Striking the balance is so hard.

 

We try to educate women about their choices without implying total control over outcomes.

We try to acknowledge risk of complications without instilling fear.

We try to protect a woman’s hopes and expectations without setting her up for disappointment.

 

Yes, choose a midwife, but you may still need an epidural, or a cesarean. Yes, eat nutritious foods, but growth restrictions may still happen. Sure, try Spinning Babies, but that doesn’t guarantee your baby will be LOA.

 

There are days when I feel like I’ve really nailed it, helping a client write out a realistic, informed list of birth preferences that helps her feel prepared but still open to the mystery inherent in the path to any birth. And then there are days when I cannot, despite my best efforts, disarm a woman’s certainty that she is to blame for her baby’s breech presentation or perineal laceration.

 

The Mother Jones article at times seems to assume we can somehow predict what will happen for any given woman based on statistics. We can’t. When faced with a woman who has been crowning for 30min after pushing for 2 hours, we don’t know whether her pelvic floor will be better off with an episiotomy, a vacuum delivery, or a little more time in a new position. We’re also thinking about her baby’s brachial plexus. We make the best choice we can in that moment. We try to involve her in the decision. We carry it home with us wondering whether we could have done something differently to give her a better outcome.

But let’s keep trying, anyway. Let’s share what we know. Let’s admit what we don’t. Let’s support women when they feel let down, either by us or by their bodies. Let’s do appropriate assessments at all stages and offer postpartum referral for physical therapy or urogynecology or counseling, or all three. Even if we already are, let’s welcome the reminder. And let’s talk to each about what a challenge it is to get it all just right.

Women’s March 2017

Women’s March 2017

 

ACNM Blog Note: This entry reflects the point of view of the writer. At MA ACNM, we hope to include and honor a diversity of opinions.

The announcement of a Women’s March in Washington came within days of the election and immediately offered some hope. Soon sister marches sprouted up everywhere. For me, it was not a question of do I march, it was where. Coming of age in the sixties, I learned early on the power of taking political and human rights messages to the streets. However, no other rally did prepared me for the magnitude of this one. I marched in Boston alongside not only 200,000, but five million others in seven continents and in over 500 locations.

Practically everyone I knew was marching but I felt the need to march with midwives, who are my sisters in the struggle. We organized a group through Midwives for Peace & Justice, an emerging organization that promotes midwifery care by engaging midwives and supporters of the model in social action. In Boston, 60 people registered or showed up to march with the group. And nationally midwives donned our logo emblazoned knit caps and T-shirts to let the world know that midwives were represented.

 

Our group also included three gigantic puppets; two midwives and a pregnant goddess, who not only served as a symbol of our commitment towards women, but also became a beacon to guide us towards each other through the masses. There were so many people in the crowds that we did not get to hear any of the speeches, and we stood in one spot for over three hours before any movement towards marching started. That time was used to network, share peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and to unify peacefully. The love and oxytocin was surging.

 

In this huge crowd, gathered in solidarity, there was one thing that stood out to me: the under-representation of people of color.  I mean, we were in Boston, not exactly the middle of nowhere. Why was that?  Before we move ahead as a progressive movement to combat the new administration, we have to look within ourselves and get more in touch with our white privilege to understand this. The midwifery profession is 90% white, a number that has not changed much in the last few decades. This should be our first call to action.

After I attend a birth, I encourage women to reflect on feelings of strength and empowerment that we hope they experience. If one can birth a baby, they can do anything. Isn’t this one of our super powers? But all too often, we get knocked back into the day to day world of being treated as second class citizens and we lose this power. I was reminded of this the day after the march, feelings of hope one day, despondent the next, as I learned that executive orders were signed which placed women’s health in jeopardy all over the world. The power of the march, the feelings of strength it gave me, the connection with millions of people all over the world, needs to be channeled every day. This march should prove that if we work together and maybe a little bit harder, get our priorities straight to dismantle racism and other social inequities, we have the ability to change the world.

Susan R Kamin, CNM

Midwives for Peace & Justice

Nurse-Midwifery and Student Debt

Background

When I decided to return to school ten years ago to become a CNM, the cost of my future education, I admit, did not play a huge part in my decision-making process. Since I was not yet a nurse and I wanted to finish my education as quickly as possible in order to start my career, my options were limited to direct-entry programs. I applied to four of these based on their reputations and locations. When I was asked, during one of my interviews, how I would cover the cost of living in an expensive city in addition to tuition, I (rather cavalierly) replied, “I assume that I’ll take out loans like everyone else.”

I ended up having a great experience in my program and graduated feeling well prepared to be a clinician. I received a waiver to reduce my tuition for living in-state for two of the three years I was enrolled, along with a few thousand dollars in scholarships. Like many student nurse-midwives, I was unable to work consistently during school due to the demands of my clinical schedule. When I graduated, I had approximately $110,000 worth of debt in addition to a much smaller amount from a previous graduate degree.

My plan for my loans––similar to that of many other new CNMs––was to find a job at a National Health Service Corps (NHSC) site that would grant me federal loan repayment. Unfortunately, the institution where I started working lost its high HPSA score early in my tenure due to changing demographics. As a result, my applications for loan repayment were rejected by the NHSC, as well as the Nurse Corps Loan Repayment Program (a similar program for registered and advance-practice nurses that also uses HPSA scores as criteria). I eventually turned my attention to state programs (which generally offer less repayment than national programs due to budgetary constraints) and received $40,000 worth of repayment from the Massachusetts Loan Repayment Program for Health Professionals in exchange for two years of service in an underserved area. I also enrolled in the Public Service Loan Forgiveness Program (PSLF) as soon as I found employment at a qualifying organization, and have been making payments on the income-based plan for roughly six years. During that time, my payments have ranged from $650 to $1,100 per month based on my income and various administrative snafus involving FedLoan (which manages the PSLF program). I will tell you in advance that if you enroll in the PSLF program, you will spend at least one day a year having a tearful and/or enraging conversation with someone at FedLoan. My remaining loans are set to be forgiven in roughly five years (and that amount will remain substantial thanks to the 7.65% interest rate on the bulk of my loans).

 

What impact has this debt had on my life?

Initially, my debt was so large that it felt entirely hypothetical. I figured I would never actually be able to pay it off by myself, and thus I should just apply for the NHSC and/or wait it out for the 10 years of the PSLF. Now that I am several years into my career and the recipient of loan repayment, my debt feels slightly more manageable. It is essentially a large, monthly bill that occasionally causes me great anxiety when I stop to contemplate how much of it still exists. My husband’s and my combined monthly loan payments cost nearly as much as our rent in Boston. We have been able to make these payments because we have relatively high incomes from jobs based in a major city, and because we have not tried to purchase a home or make substantial investments in our retirement savings. Obviously, given the amount of coverage this topic has received during the current election cycle, we are not alone in this scenario.

 

Next Steps

There are substantial differences in both nurse-midwives educational costs and their earnings. For example, a year of nursing master’s tuition at the top-ranked CNM program in the U.S., UCSF, costs $28,000 for California residents or $40,000 for nonresidents. This does not include the cost of living in San Francisco and other incidentals. In comparison, the entire cost of the CNM program at Frontier University is $35,000 (not including travel to Kentucky). The most recent data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics (2015) gives a range of annual salaries for CNMs of $50,000 (10% of the workforce) to $132,000 (90%), with the median at $93,000.

Collectively, we need to spend time and effort considering what our degree is worth and, in conjunction, what we are worth as professionals. Does it make sense for large, expensive universities to house the majority of degree programs if, as a result, the student-debt load is so high? Should there be more programs like Frontier that require less infrastructure and allow students to continue working while studying? Is the ACNM doing enough to promote salary transparency in order to encourage negotiation? At the individual-practice level, are midwifery directors cognizant of the debt burden that their employees carry with regard to salary calculations? Are directors aware of loan-repayment options? Are they open to facilitating enrollment in such programs, even if it means changes in staffing and clinical assignments?

As the issue of student-loan debt becomes a larger part of the national dialogue, it is important for us to contemplate how current and future nurse-midwives can continue to be “with women” while also achieving financial stability.

Shawna Pochan, CNM, MPH is a midwife at Massachusetts General Hospital.

Urgent need for midwives: We want YOU!

 

Congratulations are in order to all the new Nurse-Midwife graduates this year!  It is a long, often wonderful, sometimes overwhelming process to become a midwife.  So you should be very proud, and we are happy to welcome you to our profession.

Two of these graduates– Emily Jackson and Catherine Mellen– became the 22nd class to graduate from Baystate Medical Center Midwifery Education Program. There are only 38 midwifery education programs in the country, only two in New England– and we have one of them Massachusetts.  As of this May, 98 CNMs have come out of the Baystate program, which to date has a 100% first attempt pass rate on the AMCB board exam.

But as lucky as we are to have Baystate’s program, we are not currently producing enough midwives nationally to help deal with the major obstetric workforce shortage.  According to the ACNM’s “Midwifery Education Trends Report 2015,” nearly 1 million American women do not receive adequate prenatal care.  The American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists has reported that currently 49% of US counties do not have an obstetrics provider, and a 25% shortage of OB-GYNs is predicted by 2030.

Increasing the number of midwives seems like a natural solution to addressing this workforce shortage.  In the US, women receiving midwifery care report high levels of satisfaction, and studies consistently show that midwifery care results in excellent outcomes for women and babies with fewer interventions and lower costs.  Indeed, most other developed countries structure their maternity system so that midwives are the default provider for normal birth, resulting in more midwives than obstetricians caring for their pregnant women.  Despite the fact that the majority of women experience normal birth, the US has not followed this model and currently there are 4 OB-GYNs for ever 1 CNM/CM.

The American College of Nurse Midwives (ACNM) and Accreditation Commission for Midwifery Education (ACME) have put forth recommendations to help increase the number of annual midwifery graduates, including:

1) Increase the number of ACME-accredited midwifery education programs throughout the United States

2) Support increased funding for nursing and midwifery education, specifically focused on support for clinical preceptors.

3) Increase recruitment efforts aimed at attracting nursing students and nurses to midwifery careers.

4) Increase the number of clinical education sites through greater collaboration with OB/GYN residency education programs

5) Increase recruitment efforts aimed at expanding the diversity of the midwifery profession.

So what can we do to help these efforts?

If anyone is interested in more information about our program or expanding midwifery education in Massachusetts, please feel free to contact me.

 

Sukey Agard Krause, CNM, MSN

Director, Midwifery Education Program

Baystate Medical Center

689 Chestnut Street

Springfield, MA 01199

ph:  413-794-3653

fax: 413-794-8770

www.baystatehealth.org/midwiferyed

How did American birth become so controversial? A response to Dr. Amy Tuteur

How did American birth become so controversial? A response to Dr. Amy Tuteur

It started as just another article that neighbors cut out and slip into my mailbox, or that comes up in small talk, “Oh, you’re a midwife, did you see the Times?”  Two weeks ago, the New York Times published an opinion piece by vocal opponent of home birth, Dr. Amy Tuteur.  It was followed up with a series of letters from readers, including a joint response from the presidents of ACNM and ACOG.  In the interim, the Washington Post also published Tuteur on a separate topic, the guilt and shame women sometimes feel after an unexpectedly complicated birth. Tuteur published a book on the topic last month.

As I tried to formulate a response to my neighbors and loved ones, I found myself wondering not, “Why is American Home Birth So Dangerous?” but rather, “How did American Birth Become So Controversial?”  After all, it should go without saying that each of us in the field is dedicated to preserving safety, regardless of the letters after our names or the setting in which we work.  But Tuteur expresses confidence that certain midwives are habitually reckless in their care of laboring women and newborns.  Even without getting into the muddy question of how she interprets the available research on these issues, which has been disputed elsewhere, her perspective and proposals are problematic.

The bulk of her argument is a critique of certified professional midwives, or CPMs, with focus on how their training and certification requirements differ from certified nurse-midwives (CNM) and obstetrician physicians (DO/MD).  I can’t claim to know why every woman who chooses CPM care does so, but I know from experience that, for some, it is to escape the medical system.  Physicians and nurse-midwives, regardless of our personal intentions, are part of a system fraught with medical errors and iatrogenic harm.  Obstetrics has a terrible record, from thalidomide to DES and beyond, of subjecting women and babies to interventions without considering the long-term effects. It’s not hard to imagine why a family may not want that as their child’s first experience of life outside the womb.

In her letter to the Times, the president of ACNM, Ginger Breedlove, cited the U.S. Midwifery Education, Regulation and Association work group.  The group is a joint effort of every major US midwifery organization, including CPMs, working actively to improve compliance with international standards and unify the profession.  With that in mind, we ought to move on from scapegoating or even “abolishing” the CPM, and consider what we, as part of the medical system, can improve.

Let us start by disposing of the notion that to be “an expert in normal birth” is somehow meaningless.  Yes, taxi drivers have handled uncomplicated birth, but the role of a midwife is larger than catching the baby.  Assessing maternal and fetal status throughout pregnancy, labor, and birth requires an intimate understanding of what normal looks like.  Tuteur neglects to realize that a responsible provider not only intervenes when complications arise, but must also avoid disruption of healthy processes.  Frequent cervical exams can cause infection in an otherwise normal labor, but an experienced midwife can read a woman’s progress by simply observing her.  Choosing to augment rather than accepting the normal ebb and flow of early labor can increase fetal distress and risk for cesarean.  Imagine how traumatic it could be to perform resuscitative measures on a baby who is already transitioning well.  Knowing normal is essential.

Tuteur summarizes her remaining proposal thus: “keep women at increased risk of complications from giving birth at home; insist on transfer to a hospital at the first hint of potential problems; and require that midwives have hospital privileges.” I suggest we look deeper into the issue of why women and midwives stay home, even when risk factors are present.

Hospitals and hospital-based practitioners must revisit how high-risk women are treated.  We must offer thorough counseling at every stage of care, enabling shared responsibility for all decisions or procedures.  This includes informed consent, but also informed refusal.  We should be certain that restrictions and routines are in place to protect safety, not just convenience.  In the Washington Post, Tuteur writes, “Birth is beautiful, no matter the room or the lighting or the drug regimen.”  I’ll agree with that.  But there are physiologic benefits to laboring in a quiet space with dim lighting and minimal disruption, so we should provide these things when they don’t compromise safety.

High-risk pregnancies do require additional monitoring and intervention, but hospitals could do much more to preserve the atmosphere of birth, even in the operating room.  If we can do that, fewer women will opt out of hospitals.

It is undeniable, however, that low-risk pregnancies can culminate in high-risk births, and carefully selected home birth candidates may require transfer.  In the US, I have seen such women met with disdain and judgment from hospital staff.  In contrast, I met a Canadian physician at a conference once who explained the process where he worked.  A midwife attending a labor at home would call into the hospital and give a quick report, and the patient information would be added to the board alongside all the admitted patients.  This served to facilitate more rapid care in cases of emergency, but also served to demystify home birth.  Rather than seeing only the cases that required transfer, it raised awareness of all the successful, uncomplicated cases as well.  This transparent, collaborative practice is exactly how we manage labors at the birth center where I currently practice, and it works well.  While I imagine there could be liability concerns if this were expanded to include home birth, it is worth consideration, for safety’s sake.

Finally, the issue of midwife admitting privileges is more complicated than Tuteur implies.  Hospitals and midwives must navigate the complex health care system that includes malpractice, reimbursement, risk management and beyond.  For these reasons, many state laws and hospital regulations currently restrict or prohibit admitting privileges for midwives, even those who practice exclusively in-hospital.  If we are truly to integrate the system of maternity care, these restrictions must be lifted.

Dr. Amy Tuteur has previously compared home birth to home appendectomy, implying that a patient’s hope for either is not only unsafe, but absurd.  Therein lies the basic failure of her perspective.  Appendectomy is the surgical removal of a diseased organ.  Framing birth in that manner is baseless and will inevitably lead to unjust abuses against women and children.  We must abandon the false assumption underlying all of her writing: that “healthy baby, healthy mother” justifies or even requires depersonalizing birth.  We can respect women and keep them safe simultaneously.  In fact, it is our professional obligation.

Amanda Alba is a Certified Nurse Midwife at the North Shore Birth Center