I was at my midwife’s office, working through the morning.
She was standing next to me, her hands crossed over her lap, looking over the paperwork, looking at me.
I felt awkward, not sure if I wanted to speak up, but I was worried that she was expecting something from me.
“If you need help with your salary, don’t be afraid to ask,” she said.
“They can get you a lot of help.
They have a great support system.”
Midwives are responsible for caring for the physical and emotional well-being of their patients, and they are required to report to the department of social services if they see a problem with a patient.
I was curious to see how I could get paid for the same work that I did, and I figured that I could do a good amount of it.
I wanted the same kind of job that I had done as a nurse, which was caring for older people and families.
So I got on a train, and when I got to Chicago, I called the midwife hotline.
It took about a half-hour to call.
“Are you ready?” the woman said.
I told her I was going to get a new job.
She called my boss and told him I was ready.
I had no idea what to expect.
I’m an experienced midwife and I had been working as a midwife for about six years.
I’d been in practice for about 20 years, and this was my first call to a public agency.
She asked me to sign a non-disclosure agreement.
I signed it and she told me to keep it secret.
“Do not reveal it to anyone,” she warned.
I did not.
It was a bad idea to tell my boss what I had heard, I was afraid I might get fired.
I got the pay, which is usually about $18,000 a year, but it was not enough to support my wife and our three children.
So she had to pay for me to work for her, which cost me about $5,000 per month.
I left her office crying.
I didn’t have a job for three months, and it was hard to get back on my feet.
I have a very good salary, I said, but this is not the job for me.
The midwife I hired didn’t want to pay me a salary, either.
“I am not going to pay you what you can’t afford to pay,” she told my boss.
She said that if she couldn’t get me a new position, she would hire a new midwife.
I asked if that was true.
I figured I would need another midwife to replace me.
So we did.
She offered to pay the new midwives $10,000 for six months.
I said no.
She told me that if I couldn’t do it in a month, I could come back next week and start again.
She didn’t tell me why.
“It’s not worth it,” I said.
It’s not the kind of money you would think a midwives salary would be worth, she said, so I went home and cried.
I kept the news from my family to myself for months, because I didn, too, fear for my family.
In the meantime, I did what I always do when I get a bad situation, I just kept my mouth shut.
When my supervisor called me a few weeks later, she told us that I was fired.
“Your manager told you you were fired?”
She said she did, but she didn’t explain why.
I went back to work, but my paycheck never came.
I called a few times.
I wasn’t happy.
I couldn, however, get a copy of the termination notice from the midwives office, because they had posted it on their website.
It said, “Dear Midwife Staff, This letter is to inform you that we have terminated your employment due to the need for a new Midwife.
You are no longer required to work during your salary period.”
That was the end of my job as a licensed midwife in the Chicago area.
I lost my job.
I don’t know if it was because I was too old, or because I couldn or wanted to take more time off work, or I didn ‘t have the right skills.
The one thing that I do know is that the only thing that kept me in my job was the word of a midwifery agency.
They did not tell me that they were firing me because I had a bad experience, or that I didn t do enough caring.
Instead, they told me, “If there is something you need to see or hear, we can do it.”
I wanted a job, and so I took a job at the hospital, because that’s where I had worked before.
I worked in the operating room for a