That’s the only word that can sum it up.
At 21.55 this evening I became I father.
You’ve all seen childbirth on screen before. Sci Fi fans may remember Worf’s awkward delivery of Molly on the Enterprise. For most though, the TV version of childbirth best remembered will be that of Damien’s on Only Fools & Horses. That’s what I had in my head. The waiting, the swearing, the joyous crying.
Well it’s kind of like that but nothing can prepare you for actually experiencing it.
What no one has ever told me about is the fear and helplessness you feel as the male. There you are watching the person you love go through sheer agony and there’s nothing you can do about it. Well, there’s superficial things like soothing gestures and brow mopping but that’s it, that is all you can do and it is heartbreaking. Then there’s the boredom. You’re in that delivery room for a long time. It was a relief to get out of the room for 10 minutes for my own *ahem* delivery. Finally it’s the fear that kicks in. You realise that a lot can go wrong – especially when it gets to the point that epidurals and c-sections are being discussed.
Still, this long slog is totally worth it for the moment when you meet your child. The image of the midwife whipping him out and over onto Miss Smeg’s chest will forever be etched into my mind. Then there’s the moment I cut the cord before mini-me was cleaned down and, still screaming, placed into my arms. He stopped crying instantly, I however, didn’t.
Here we are, two hours later and I’m still on a high. It’s amazing and I wish words could capture it... oh and Miss Smeg only swore once.