Integration

As most of you know, I'm now in Toccoa, Georgia for my integration, and last, semester of the nurse-midwifery program. This semester is meant to let us "find ourselves" as midwives; basically, to let us practice as midwives under the direct supervision of a certified nurse-midwife.

So, here I am... for ten weeks.

The clinic I'm working in is wonderful. It's actually much better than I had anticipated, as none, well, maybe a couple, of the patients I have seen look like characters from 'Deliverance'. (Insert banjo music). The patients are great. The staff has welcomed me with open arms. I am happy there.

The birth situation is going beautifully as well. I have already attended two births (see how my use of words to describe a 'delivery' has already changed?). As my preceptor mentioned, we once said "I delivered a baby". Then we said, "I caught a baby", as in one of my instructor's phrases, "Pizzas are delivered. Babies are born." Now, I say, "I attended a birth." Moms deliver the babies. I make sure they don't hit the floor. That's about it. In another instructor's words, "I am a glorified cheerleader."

As far as all this goes, it sounds as if things are going well... correct? Well... yes and no.

You see, I am a serious homebody. I crave nothing more than to be at home with my husband, "in my dirt" as Grandmuz used to say, with my animals, in my hot tub, washing my dishes, what-have-you. Now, I am in someone else's home (my preceptor's- who I am so grateful to for inviting and hosting me). I'm in a town I've never seen before. I am uncomfortable, but honestly, I can't pinpoint why.

Here's my theory: I asked God long ago to make me into the person and midwife that He wants me to be. I believe He's working on it. I know this sounds terrible, but I don't think I've ever been through anything this difficult other than my mother's death. I've only been here since Tuesday night (this is Friday night), and I am absolutely mentally miserable. My only logic that I can fester up is that God is absolutely breaking me down to my core, as to make me into the person and midwife He wants of me. I cannot explain my misery any other way than this.

In the past, with friends and family members whom I knew did not know the Lord, I have prayed for God to make them so miserable that they have no other feasible choice than to turn to and accept Him. Granted, I have 'known' the Lord for 13 years now. Now He's doing something different. I believe He's stripping me of all of my comforts... breaking me down... and revealing the person I am to become as a result of this nurse-midwifery program and my experiences during it. My beautiful preceptor said to me tonight, "I'm a midwife all the time." I want to feel that way. I crave to feel that way. An instructor said to our class once, "At a certain point, you'll feel like the midwife in the room. It will be a very specific time, and you will recognize it." I am desperate for that moment. I have not felt it yet. I have to believe that God is breaking me down so that when that moment happens, I will notice it. I will be focused on it.

Apparently, there is more to integration than we thought.

Lord, from this misery and into Your perfect will for my life as a midwife, deliver me.