Being a birthing partner is not for the faint hearted. Should I stay at the top end of the bed (the “safe end”) or should I get the camcorder out and get amongst it? Should I go with the mix tape I’ve made, complete with uplifting songs such as Salt n Peppa’s Push It or is that pushing it? Is this the perfect opportunity to unleash the “chop chop massage” I’ve been working on or shall I stick with the conventional shoulder squeeze? Vomit or faint? Push, push, push or Go on girl give it some welly! Definitely not for the faint hearted.
Turned out I had nothing to worry about, I was a total natural. I did a convincing job at remaining calm when water was gushing all over our bed, even managing a “I always wanted a water bed” gag. I drove us to hospital quickly and efficiently, despite the difficulties of driving with your wife’s legs stretched out across the dashboard. I administered enough massages to achieve Advanced Jedi Massage Status (AJMS). I cut the cord with consummate ease and even managed to muster up a contemplative look when they asked me if I wanted to keep the placenta (do I look like I collect placenta?). I managed to hide my relief when I was told “it’s a boy” (nothing against girls, just wanted a boy in the bag). It wasn’t a total surprise that it was a boy, during one scan the radiogrpaher hovered over what can only be described as a little penis with two tiny testicles either side, a total giveaway. I phoned the relatives and managed to remember crucial pieces of information like, baby weight, baby gender and unusual swearing combinations that mum used, eg, shitbastard!Is there a better hug than that first hug with your little baby?
Born: 24th December 2010