Dad's View

Hi, Chris here.  It will come as no surprise to our family and friends that this blog has been all Susan's doing.  All of this in addition to continuing to work part-time for the last couple weeks, manage our finances, organize our travels, wash laundry, and oh by the way, birth and mother our son.  I'm just glad she managed to finish off her Oxford degree last year or she'd be doing that as well.  But now she's asked me to pitch in on this blog so I'll do my best to be as entertaining and informative as she's been.

I've tried to pitch in by running errands, grocery shopping, finding accommodation and doing most of the cooking.  However, my contributions seem so small against the enormity of motherhood.  I remain in awe of my wife for the beautiful child she produced and the way in which she did it.  Like her approach to most things in life, Susan had researched birthing options, selected an approach that fit her personality and beliefs, and then practiced for months.  I've been involved since the beginning, she enlisted me as a birthing partner and engaged me at every step along the way.  In fact, Susan even asked permission to pursue her approach - as though I would think to dictate how she would choose to treat her body and that of the child she carried.  Entrusted with the role of partner, I had to study alongside her - practicing the prompts and actions I would use on the special day.

When Luka decided to make his appearance ahead of schedule, Susan feared that her birthing plan was obsolete.  We had previously decided against a traditional hospital delivery because we wanted more control over the birthing process, away from the institutional atmosphere of the delivery ward.  The night before our son was born, Susan and I lay together on the makeshift bed we had prepared on the floor of her hospital room and talked about how we would handle it.  We agreed that if her contractions were, in fact, the "real thing", we would do our best to stick to our original birth plan.  When her water broke the next morning, and we knew the birth was imminent, I helped Susan start her meditations to put her into the right frame of mind.  Once she dropped into self-hypnosis, it would be up to me to handle any distractions and keep her comfortable.

I'm known for being pretty even-keeled and not easily upset. It's true - I don't usually get too worked up about things.  Susan once noted that the biggest problem with my rugby career was that I was "too nice" - I believe this comment was made after I helped an opponent to his feet after I'd crushed him in a tackle.    When the doctors began to talk to her that morning, interrupting her meditation, I found myself acting out of character - pointedly demanding that the specialists address their questions to me instead.  When a well-intentioned, if misguided, young doctor asked Susan for the third time whether she wanted some medication to help with the pain, I verbally dressed her down in front of the attending midwives.  And when the short, overly-cocky doctor strolled into the delivery room as though he was going to take over, I nearly threw him out on his ass.  In the end, it was only the two of us and two wonderful mid-wives.  The neo-natal paediatrician and his team hovered by the door, shielded from us by a curtain, but ready in case of any complications.

Throughout this process, Susan focused deeper and deeper into herself blocking out everything but my voice.  She would take a sip of water and even had some toast for lunch at my suggestion, but it was easy to watch her slip into a deeper state as she breathed her way through ever stronger contractions.  We spent some time in the shower, letting the warm water ease the pains and relax her muscles - how long we were in there I have no idea as time seemed to contract.  We used many of the techniques we had studied over the preceding seven months including breathing, meditation, music, water, and massage and each "trick" seemed to carry us closer to birth.

Once she transitioned and the final push began, the midwives had convinced us that they preferred Susan to be on the bed close to emergency oxygen and other equipment.  But they didn't object when Susan refused to lie on her back, preferring a more natural delivery position on her knees.  Now, I've had a history of not adapting well to blood or the pain of others.  I can deal with my own blood and pain, but seeing it on the face of another causing my knees to turn to rubber - I was never cut out to be a doctor.  As a result, I had always been afraid of this part of the process - I could think of nothing worse than seeing Susan in pain.  But in that moment, as contractions coursed through her body, I have never thought her more beautiful.  A few deeply focused breaths later and my child's head crowned.  A wave of emotion flooded over me as I realized that we were going to be parents in a few minutes and I audibly sobbed.  Susan heard me and focused a smile directly at me as with one last push our child was born and I discovered I had been blessed with a son.  A moment later, a loud cry let me know he was healthy and full of fight which he remains to this day.

I had expected some of the emotions of parenthood and while my love for Luka has exceeded anything I could have imagined I always assumed I would love my child.  The one thing I hadn't planned on was that this experience would make me love and respect my Susan any more than I already did.