I was beginning to think it was all a hoax. Family, friends and even clients were calling me up asking if I was a father yet. But no signs of an impending kid aside from a big belly, so I kept thinking of those bad comedies where someone fakes a pregnancy as if she could possibly pull it off. At one week overdue Sarah and I decided to stop putting our lives on hold and to resume some normality. At 10 days late, I went for a morning run with my mate Mike and agreed to meet up the following morning for a bike ride around Marina.
Perhaps it was that planning (the cigarette-bus theory of cause and effect), perhaps it was the home remedy we tried to get labour started, or perhaps it was just the right time. But I came back from my run to find Sarah experiencing contractions every now and again. I decided it would be prudent to work from home. Sarah and her mum carried on as normally as possible.
Around 4:00pm, Sarah's mum went to the pool, so Sarah and I squeezed in another home remedy. And about that, if you want to induce labour, forget all the old wives' tales. Rasberry leaf tea: doesn't work. Pressure points in the hand: nothing. Foot massage: load of bollocks. Hot food: nada. Hot bath: big deal. So what works? Well, I don't like to kiss and tell so you'll have to ask your doctor.
So there we are at 5:00pm and Sarah's in active labour. She was about to go to the shops to get the dinner but decided that contractions at five minutes apart would have made it a hell of a long walk. Before we knew it, she was at three minutes apart and around 7:00pm I bundled her into the car for the drive to American Hospital.
Through peak hour traffic. Awesome.
But we arrived and Sarah was 3cm dilated. A few hours later she was at 6cm. I had to field calls from Glenn telling me to tell her to push as his wife, Tina, wanted baby's birthday to match hers and there were only 30 minutes to go.
And then things went slow. From about 1:00am until 7:00am, no progress was made and there was talk of breaking waters. Now guys, you may not be aware, but there seems to be a whole culture with pregnant women whereby any kind of intervention is seen as the first step that leads inevitably to a caesarian section. Some women even seem to think they've failed in some way unless they have a completely natural, non-interfered-with birth. (That probably helps explain the popularity of home births.) I'm not saying Sarah's one of these women, but the thought was there, (thanks I think to the pre-natal class), that breaking water would lead to further intervention.
Men, on the other hand, being somewhat disconnected from the birthing experience, tend to see things in terms of risks and benefits and what's the best way to get the job done with the minimum of fuss. Like cleaning the gutters. If something isn't going right, we want to know how best to fix it, and to hell with what "feelings" that may give rise to. Medical practice is there to help us, and any advance on how things were done in prehistory is exactly that: an advance. Bring it on! If men gave birth (and had the bits to do so), the c-section rate would be about 100%. I mean, it's a safe, straightforward procedure. It's quick and efficient. It leaves you with a scar. Gadgets are involved. What's not to like?
Anyway, Sarah's waters were broken, and still baby's head was high and not moving. At the 20h mark an epidural was introduced, as was a load of oxytocin. The former relaxed her, the latter increased the strength of the contractions and BAM! In 2 or 3 hours she was fully dilated, the head was down and she was starting to push.
Now at this point I'd like to say that my plan had always been to stay above the elbow. I didn't want to see anything gruesome, or anything that would put me off sex for 5 months as it did to my (other) friend Mike. Now, I don't know how long I thought Sarah was, but "above the elbow" isn't actually that far from the action. And because she had a tube sticking out of her spine, she had to push lying on her back with her knees drawn in. Without getting graphic, this meant my vantage point above the elbow was within reach, and certainly within sight, of what I was trying to avoid.
And like anything you try not to look at, I look.
And I'm glad I do. Seeing your child being born is simply incredible. One minute there are six people in the room (Sarah, me, the doula, the doctor, the mid wife, and the other mid wife who just seems to have popped her head in as she didn't have anything else to do), and the next minute there are seven. Another person, arriving, but not through the door. Then he's placed on Sarah's chest, and she smiles so wide I think her face is going to split. "He's so beautiful. Can we call him Jarvis? He's so beautiful."
We had agreed a shortlist of names and Jarvis was the top one. We'd also agreed to look at the baby first and decide which name suited him best. So when Sarah asks to name him Jarvis, I decide not to point out she hadn't actually seen him yet - she is clearly emotional and I'm not about to correct her on anything. Besides, it's an awesome name, so I say of course we can.
Then it's time to relax a bit and marvel at what we've done. Some skin-to-skin cuddling, then he's weighed (3.986kg), measured (55cm on the tape, but 51cm 2 days later on the measuring table) and dressed. Sarah's mum arrives in no time, phone calls are made, text messages sent and photos emailed from my phone. Before we know it, another six hours have passed and we're back in the room that's our home for the next two nights. Jarvis is in the cot, Sarah in the hospital bed. I hit the couch and ... collapse.
Now it's been three and a half weeks since the big day. Jarvis looks like he's going to be tall and lean. A witch doctor that Sarah saw said he'll be good at ball sports - if so he won't be getting that from me! He is very well behaved, though: sleeping a lot, eating well, spewing it back up over his dad's newly washed shirts, and pooing over his mum. I still look at him and am amazed. He is a gorgeous boy and I think I am a very lucky fellow indeed.
More images at http://picasaweb.google.com/Jarvis#
