a sweet deal

Stefanie McRoy gives us an insight into what it’s like working from home as a midwife

When working shifts on the ward, often staying late to finish documentation after an already long day, I wished there were a way to finish it all from home. Fast forward to 2021, and I was working as a case-loading midwife. I had my own work laptop and phone, and I was able to go home at 3 pm to finish (or start) my documentation for the day. Even if it had been a busy day of home births, antenatal appointments, and postnatal visits, with no break, at least I could go home and sit on my sofa, drink a cup of tea, or have dinner cooking whilst I typed up the day’s events.

I now work in a specialist midwife role in which I can decide how I want to work (to an extent). As this role focuses on psychological trauma, I’m not doing physical clinical care like checking blood pressures or palpating an abdomen to check for a baby’s position. I cover a whole county, so most of our patients choose to have their appointment online, although there’s the option to meet in person if they would like. Pretty sweet, right?

After being in this role for a year, I have seen the pros and cons of working from home. When I wake up an hour before work and have time to get ready, have breakfast, and read God’s word and pray before switching on my laptop, I often thank God for this blessing. I’m thanking him again when I can sit on my chair covered by a blanket in the cold winter months and attend meetings online, where only my head and shoulders can be seen. I’m thanking God once again when I make a coffee to keep me going without having to go to a cafe to buy one. When I’ve had a hard appointment and close my laptop, I can place my head in my hands and pray freely without anyone seeing.

But there’s a bitter side to it. When I had a hard shift on the ward, a difficult birth, or a complex social case, I could walk into the office and immediately tell my colleagues what had happened, or they would notice the look on my face and know I needed a hug or a cup of tea. At home, after hearing someone with PTSD detail the loss of their baby or the traumatic childhood events that are making pregnancy feel triggering, I have to wait until I have supervision to discuss it, or send my manager an email to ask if she’s free for a quick call.

Being a midwife working from home is often a sweet blessing, but it can leave an bitter aftertaste. However, I have a God who sees my work, hears my prayers, gives me new mercies each morning, and provides brothers and sisters in Christ who check in and pray for or with me.

Stefanie McRoy is a specialist midwife for a maternal health service