I sat in on a nursing school labor and delivery class yesterday. The professor was my wife, so I had permission to be there. Just before the lecture began, I listened as the students talked about their clinical experiences.
“I got to watch a delivery!” Timing is everything. There is no guarantee that a baby will arrive during your birth center clinical hours, so not everyone gets to witness a birth.
“I got to hold a mother’s leg to help her push.” Even rarer is the chance to assist in a birth. The nurse you’re following may want to watch from over there and stay out of the way. Or, they may give you the chance to be a part of the moment. You never know.
I smiled and whispered to my wife, “I got to watch three!” The memories of the births of my three children are vivid. I may have written about this sometime in the past, but it’s worth remembering again.
My oldest was born in the dead of winter on a snowy February day in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Sitting upright and cross-legged within my wife, he wasn’t going anywhere without surgery. When we arrived at the hospital, I was told, “Put this on, sit there, don’t move, and don’t touch anything.” In a yellow gown and cap, I sat on a stool just to the left of my wife. I sat up really tall and could just see into the sterile field as the doctor made an incision and suddenly I was a dad.
Number two, a daughter was born less than two years later in Manchester, Connecticut. She also didn’t get the memo about turning to be head down for her birthday. While the doctor knew how to turn a baby in utero, she too was born by c-section. In scrubs this time, I got to sit a little closer and had a better view of the birth. When the big moment arrived, the doctor said, “Get your camera; here we go.” I took a whole roll of film to capture her birth. In a few minutes, I was ushered out of the room, but not before the nurses handed me my cleaned-up and wrapped-up daughter and said, “Hold her while we take care of your wife.” Gladly! I rocked her for forty-five minutes until my wife was ready to meet number two.
Our youngest arrived eight years later. In the late-90’s, before lawyers got involved, vaginal birth after caesarian (VBAC) was encouraged. With a week to go, my wife was induced and I got to be an active part of a delivery. About eight hours in, it was time to push and I got to help hold my wife’s legs and hands as she pushed. Another daughter arrived, I cut the cord, and watched as she met her mom face-to-face for the first time.
I’m blessed to have experienced these moments, too!
Waite for it... 