The Room of Requirement
I never read the Harry Potter books and haven't seen the movies (I understand perhaps this may be a literary flaw in my history). Apparently in the series, if you need something, you walk in front of the door to The Room of Requirement, and the thing that you need appears. The last 2018 episode of This American Life focused on this idea, that there are rooms where anything you need can be found one way or another, and focused this idea on the topic of libraries. The last story in the episode was about a woman who realized, as an adult, that she was homeless as a child and the library was a safe place for her, and remembers a feeling of belonging. She remembers the librarian feeling like a safe person, who looked forward to seeing her. She ultimately became a children's librarian herself, and sought out the librarian from her childhood to talk to her about what the library, and her as a librarian, meant to her.
"My memories of that time are of you treating me so well, and I felt important here."
"You don't realize how much influence you have on anybody, just by doing your job."
"You did not have to be that kind. You could have done your job without being that eternally kind. But you were that kind."
So of course, as I'm listening to this podcast on the way to my labor shift this morning, I started sobbing. Uncontrollably sobbing. Because: midwifery.I spend my clinic days among three exam rooms. My labor shifts among eight rooms. I've written before about my own experience of walking in and out of those rooms, resetting myself after one hard or sad or joyful or funny visit to chameleon for another of the same or a different emotional space. Sometimes my well is refilled inside those rooms, and sometimes it's emptied. Sometimes I realize people have entered those rooms unsure of what they seek, and part of my work is to figure it out. Sometimes they know exactly what they want and say so directly. Some people seek to be heard, to be understood, to seek comfort, to share in humanity. Some people I've cared for their entire pregnancy have revealed to me postpartum that they really only ever left the house for prenatal care, and seeing me brought them incredible joy and got them through hard months. Some people I will share only moments with during a precipitous birth, and then I end up caring for them for years later because they seek me out (you know who you are). Some people tell me that when I share how my weekend was or talk about the news or a movie I've seen, it's the first time a provider has connected with them on something other than their health. Some people ask about how I became a midwife (and I'm still hoping to hear back that someone has chosen that path). Some people are shocked that I remember personal things about them at their next visit (and for this I am thankful for electronic medical records). Some people will share that they missed me while I was away from the clinic, and want to know if something caused me to be away. Some people call the midwife hospital office and ask specifically for their midwife, become upset that I'm not that person and want to know where their midwife is, and for that I am grateful for my amazing colleagues creating the same space for their community.I've written about this before. About humanistic care in the busy clinic setting. About ways to be a feminist care provider. About how I try to spend my fifteen minute appointments. About all that can happen in a labor room summed up in 'room seven delivered, no complications." About how my well is emptied and refilled. About those moments when truly magical things happen in this work. About when patients see us as people, as we see them. About how this work provides us with an opportunity to find a home within each other.We really don't realize how much influence we have on anyone. We don't realize how our midwifery work, how we carry our knowledge and our hearts around, can affect others. We don't always think about doing our job in such a way that it's exemplary: but it is. And we are.So this is a Sunday night reflection for myself and all of those who pace outside of our health rooms of requirement: seeking our own needs, serving the needs of others, and coming back again and again for whatever it may be. May we be kind, treat each other well and with importance, and have influence just by being, and even by "just" doing our job.