Operation Bambino, go, go, go!

Nurses and midwives have agreed to move to the new maternity hospital in Cork. No details released yet about whether or not they've agreed to the reduced, and as far as I'm concerned unsafe, staffing levels of midwives. (Interesting aside: I keep seeing ads for "temporary midwives, Cork." Temporary? Oh, and Cork has the most independent midwives in the country. More than the rest of the country combined. Interesting to see what happens there now. I'm probably reading far more into all of that than I should, but I've become a tad cynical as regards the Department of Health.)

It's a magnificent facility, as hospitals go. But it's a hospital. Hospitals have sick people.
Pregnancy is not an illness. We shouldn't behave as if it is one. The vast majority of pregnancies are uncomplicated. As a species we'd not have survived otherwise.
And for goodness sake, Operation Bambino? Sheesh.

I've rewritten this half a dozen times. Because I can get carried away. Rightly so. I consider myself very lucky not to have come through the old midwifery education system of becoming a nurse first and hospital institutionalised.

Spot the home birth/community midwifery/early transfer home advocate. And guess whose house canvassers are avoiding.

(no subject)

I've had many years of Martha not annoying me. This is strange in a big sister, little sister relationship. Tonight, though...
"Who's she?"
"Is she the new Piper woman?"
"What're you watching?"
"Where do they come up with these plots?"
"Who comes up with these stories?"
"Oh, I read about this, *here's where a normal person inserts spoiler space* happens."
"What's a sonic screwdriver?"
"Where's thingie Piper gone?"
"Why isn't thingie Piper in it any more?"
"Who's he?"
"This is stupid."
"Am I annoying you?"
"Good."
"Do you want that last slice of pizza?"
"Is it nearly over yet?"
"Now?"
"How about now?"
"There, it's over."