It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything on this blog. After three years of hope, despair, needles and scans we finally managed to get pregnant and our little girl is due in a few weeks. I still find it hard to believe, even when she’s kicking me in the bladder and I no longer fit through doorways. I have to focus hard not to dwell on what could go wrong (I have WAY too much info on that) and I pity the poor midwife that has to deal with me when I finally go into labour. I like to think I will be zen and pragmatic but suspect I will be a terrified, paranoid mess. I’ll bring cookies (and maybe gin) and hope she forgives me.
You can’t work on the road while pregnant, and as this was IVF you are on ‘light duties’ from implantation. So nine months of not working as a frontline paramedic BEFORE maternity leave. Going back is going to be another very steep learning curve as I try to reassure myself I still remember how to cannulate / drive on blues / run cardiac arrests while remembering to breathe.
While on light duties I’ve been seconded to the learning team, helping to design and deliver training. I love it. I did a lot of training in my last job before becoming a paramedic and I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. There’s something special about seeing that ‘lightbulb moment’ when you explain something and it just clicks; or the relaxation of the shoulders when positive feedback helps remind someone they really are doing just fine.
My baby also appears to LOVE cardiac arrest training and kicks like mad whenever I lead it. I like to think she’s practicing her chest compressions. If so, she’s going to have mad skills if she can just crack keeping her hand placement steady and avoid using her feet, elbows and bum.
I do miss patients (most of them) and my colleagues on the road. I manage a bit of home working now which is great as snacks are plentiful but I miss the banter and the support of working in a team. Life on station is moving on without me: new faces, new in-jokes, new rumors. It already feels a world away and I hope that there will be enough of the familiar left to cushion the blow when I go back. As long as we still regularly run out of milk, someone manages to damage a truck driving into the faulty garage door once a week and the sofas are still bloody uncomfortable I’m sure it will still feel like home.