Here Comes the Son

"That one was was just over four minutes... That was just under three... Jesus! That was barely two minutes apart for the last two! We need to phone them."

And so I phoned Wishaw General's Maternaty Triage Unit and, in a short time later, Michelle and I were in the back of an ambulance on the way to have our baby. Finally!

Having been due on 1 August our boy was, at that point, 10 days late. A length of time which put a strain on Michelle's resolve and my ability to come up with daily Facebook puns. Nevertheless he was on his way; with contractions averaging three minutes apart we knew it wouldn't be long before we could see the face we'd tried so hard to imagine for the past nine months.

Once in the hospital Michelle was taken in a wheelchair directly to a delivery room where we met Tina, the first midwife, who dealt with us right through the night into the morning. Tina was great; very nice and she didn't sugarcoat anything, which is a quality I always appreciate. After some checks and tests were done Tina told us that things were not all as they should be and, in particular, that the baby's heart rate indicted that he may struggle in what was likely to be a long labour. As this was the case it was Tina's assessment that Michelle should have a caesarian section.

The final word on whether or not Michelle was to have a section was to be the decision of the pediatrician, Dr DeRoy. As soon as the doctor came through the door she was greeted by Michelle, drunk on gas and air, calling her by her first name. It turns out that Sabine was a client at Michelle's salon and though Michelle does not personally cut her hair she obviously remembered her. Looking back on it Michelle remembers the small small voice inside her screaming "shut up you blithering idiot!" as she called out the doctors name.

Dr DeRoy did not want to be too hasty about the surgery but decided that Michelle should be given an epidural as the eventually of the surgery might have been inevitable.

After the epidural things seemed to calm down. Tina's shift ended and she was replaced by Linda (who I keep wanting to call Janet for some reason) and Karen, a trainee midwife. as the baby's heart rate was erratic there was always someone in the room and various checks were done regularly. It was hours of waiting and though the hours seemed to pass quickly it would be dishonest to say that the wait did not seem long.

And then Michelle was told to push. And she pushed! She put everything into each of those pushes and then pushed some more. She never even made a sound because she was so focused on pushing. She was tough.

Durning the course of Michelle's labour our soundtrack had been the erratic heartbeat we could hear on the monitor as well as see. Over the twelve hours I had got to know what the digital readout was when the heart rate dipped. As Michelle pushed and I encouraged her I tried to hide the fear on my face as I watched the the numbers on that display fall lower with every push. And on the the last push the heartrate stopped and for a terrible moment my heart stopped too until... Nathan was here. All of a sudden he was lying on his mothers chest as I cut his cord.

I had been told by many that the birth was disgusting. "Don't watch" they told me "it's horrific!". What a bunch of jessies! It's a life! It's beautiful! Truly the most amazing thing I have ever seen (and I've seen Cirque du Soleil!).

Twenty four hours after his birth we were all three of us on the way home, ready for a new life, new challenges and all the stories yet to be told.