"I want to help mothers give birth." My grandmother, an retired RN, gave me a questioning glance. "I wouldn't be so sure," she warned me. "It's not as pretty as it looks on TV."
Suddenly, I felt defensive. Ever since my sister was born, I've been fascinated by birth. I'd read "What to Expect When You're Expecting" at the age of 8 behind my parent's backs and caught every episode of "A Baby Story" on TLC. In my eyes, birth was the most beautiful thing in the world. Hearing my experienced grandmother tell me something different made me wonder . . . was I mistaken?
I spend the next three years researching and looking for evidence that my grandmother was right. I devoted all my free time in highschool to reading birth stories and watching birth videos on YouTube. I expected to get scared away. Instead, I fell deeper in love with the miracle of life. I realized that this was my calling and I had to follow it.
I've decided to be a labor and delivery nurse. Before the experienced RN raises a brow in question, let me assure you that I'm aware I won't be cuddling babies all day. I know that blood, vomit, feces, amniotic fluid, and meconium are all a part of the package. Hours on my feet will leave me exhausted and often frustrated. I'll sacrifice a good portion of my life to this mysterious passion I've had as long as I can remember. Sometimes I'll wonder if it's worth it.
Birth, in its essence, is life. Yet life and death are often devastatingly close in nature. As sure as I am that I'll help bring life into the world, I'm also sure I'll see it leave. From the stillborn baby to the mother who loses her fight, birth isn't spared from death. I know I'll come face to face with tragedy, and though I dread it, I accept this as inevitable.
Still, I want to be a labor and delivery nurse. I feel a mysterious and indescribable urge to be right in the thick of it. The thought of blood and bodily fluids doesn't frighten me. The knowledge that I'll be exhausted only reminds me I'll be doing something worthwhile. The prospect of death only makes me want to fight for life. I still believe that birth is beautiful.
Perhaps I sound very sure of myself for someone with no real experience. In truth, I'm scared. I feel this calling into the unknown and I know I must follow it. I have no idea if I'll succeed, and the prospect of failing frightens me. I know the course I've chosen to follow is a difficult one, and I often wonder if I'm up for the task.
The only thing that I'm sure of is that I can't be sure of anything. Every day and every birth will look different and present different challenges. I look ahead and see a long road in front of me. I smile. It's time to see what I'm capable of, and I'm excited.