A dream is a journey

The love of writing is generally birthed from the love of reading, and other forms of story telling, be it fact or fiction. So it may be no surprise to learn that I am an avid reader and can also be lost to the world in front of a good TV drama. So much so that there has not often been much time left to try my own hand at writing. But it was in fact a Christmas special of a well know, and loved, drama series that has made me switch off the television, resist picking up a book and whisk out my iPad. 

‘Call the Midwife’ is a TV series loved by thousands with it’s engaging story lines, and it’s brilliant portrayal of life in the times that it is set. I have had the added joy of seeing a reflection of both my working and personal life in the dramas that have unfolded before our eyes.

My nursing did not included midwifery, but there has been so much over the years of watching this engaging series I could identity with. Ward sisters may have been strict but they were women who taught us students as much as the tutors at the lectures we attended. The  uniforms that would not be recognised in hospitals now. The thrill of being even a small part of seeing someone recover, and the sadness that to be hid when an illness did not have such a good outcome, were all part of daily life. There was fun, and laughter, and sometimes tears of exhaustion after a long difficult shift. But always good companionship.  

But life moves on and I soon found myself identifying with other characters; the pregnant mums!  The series moved along at the pace of my own life, my babies having been born in the early 60’s. So many of the rules and regulations that applied then came flooding back to me. The fact that fathers could not be at the birth of their child was, and at times still, is a source of sadness for me. How I would have loved to have shared that wonderful moment of the birth of our firstborn, a beautiful daughter with my husband. But rules were rules! 

My second pregnancy was going to be different. Booked for a home delivery, with my best friend as  my midwife meant that no one was going to stop my husband  being with me. That was until six weeks before my due date it was found that I was expecting twins. 

Just as dramas define the storylines in Call the Midwife, so did our sudden change of circumstances give us our own small drama. In that grim winter of 1962-1963, lingering snow was still on the ground when we rushed through the late evening to the hospital when our twins very suddenly let us know they were on their way.  Three hours later we were now the delighted parents of three lovely girls. But still my husband had to wait outside the labour ward! But it was the ‘twin birth’ episodes of this fabulous series helped me 
understand how twins often got born! 

But as the episodes moved on through the years there was nothing new to identify with until the remarkable Christmas episode. It was a few days after it’s first showing on Christmas Day that I got to view it on iPlayer. It felt a surreal experience. I had lived this! 

A dream is a journey. A dream to have child is a journey of pregnancy. Of maybe months of trying to conceive. Sometimes a dream ends in sadness or maybe never develops into reality. And so does the dream to add to a family in a different way. A dream you may have been told is impossible. A dream that has to be pushed through all the difficulties as hard as any pushing in the labour of birth. But a dream really worthwhile pursuing. And so this different form of labour product our fourth daughter, a precious Chinese girl from Hong Kong.

But there are others who dream. Children who dream that one day a forever mum and dad will come for them. They were in that last episode, but in reality there are thousands at 
this time still dreaming and waiting. 

Will future episodes catch up with what happened next in growing our family? If they don’t I may in future blogs. Because for these children still waiting the story needs to be told. 

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