I see you, mama. Struggling in online forums to share your story and warn others, only to be gaslit and told that your experience isn’t valid, that it was a fluke, that no one should believe you. I see you, mama. Resenting how your midwife simply walked away from your birth without a second thought, while you are spending your money on therapy and EMDR to treat the PTSD from a day you wish you could forget. I see you, mama. Waiting years to be in an emotionally sound space and calling the College of Midwives to get more information on complaints, only told not to expect anything to come from this process … so you choose not to complain, because you can’t re-live the trauma without purpose. I see you, mama. Opting for “mediation” with the College of Midwives, only to be re-traumatized with the gaslighting and faux apologies. Feeling that they are using their lawyers to bludgeon you into compliance, with a mediator who is apologetic but seems only to want to wrap up so they can move on. I see you, mama. Choosing to do a formal complaint with the College of Midwives complaint process, having them seem sympathetic, only get a final ruling that says what happened to you was fine – when you know very well it wasn’t. I see you, mama. Refusing to accept the CMO ruling and pushing to have what happened to you made public by appealing the decision. You are so, so brave. You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you or your baby. I see you, mama. Weeping at your computer minutes before the HPARB meeting, hating that you need to re-live your trauma. Taking a deep breath and steadying yourself to explain why you feel the CMO should enforce their own rules while unable to see or read the boards expressions, but you can hear their disdain for your complaint in their voice when they ask “Is that all?” with gruff indifference. I see you, mama. Waiting months (or longer) for HPARB to render decision, then receiving another response telling you that your body, your mind, your beloved baby don’t matter to those you trusted – midwives, college, and board. Watching them circle the wagon and feeling that it was all for nothing. Mama, you made a difference. Let me tell you. I see you in the forums, and I’m grateful to read your words and I feel a little less alone. I read your words that mirror my experience calling the CMO to complain and I feel a little less alone. I talk to you about your experience with the College of Midwives complaints process and I feel a little bit stronger. I read about your rulings and I am in awe of your strength and tenacity. You give me hope to push through. Mama, I see you. In a world that glorifies midwives, you helped me feel less alone in my sorrow. You made my pain bearable. You gave me strength. However far you got in your journey, you had an impact. Like tiny drops of water that slowly eroding a rock, as more of use speak out others will have the informed consent and knowledge that we did not have. I am eternally grateful to all of you. Because the midwives lied to me, too, and I feel better now that I can see you.
*** This was inspired through my personal experiences with midwives and the complaints process, as well as through reading the stories of the brave women who fought to expose what happened to them. I owe every single one a debt of gratitude for their bravery. You can read some of their stories here as well as on CanLII. One by one, we will change the system.
