Paternal Delivery: Welcoming my child into this realm

How many men had a chance to deliver their own child?

With gratitude, I share my special experience…

That evening, I was still at work when Moon called to inform that her water-bag burst.

My colleague hurried me off and I remembered his words clearly, “Just go, we will return your gears. And drive safe.”

Moon already had the delivery kit bag when I reached. In fact, she told me that she had mopped the fluid off the floor.

Lucky for us, Moon was not in any form of pain and the traffic was smooth.

Admission to the delivery ward was smooth. Moon was immediately administered with an on-demand epidural, as recommended by our gynecologist.

Everything seems peaceful till near dawn. The duration between contractions got shorter and Moon felt that the on-demand epidural seemed to have lost the effects.

I checked on the machine to find the medication exhausted. When I asked for a refill, the midwife advised against it. She shared that too much epidural might numb the muscles and affect the needed pushes at the crucial stage. Moon had to endure through the rest of the contractions till delivery.

As each midwife would be in charge of two delivery cases. The midwife in charge of Moon had to attend to the other case who had an impending labor. A second midwife was called in.

The second midwife informed that she needed to leave the ward for a short while, and instructed Moon not to push until she returns.

The coming waves of contraction caused Moon great pain and I must admit that it got me worried. I tried to reach for the panic buzzer on the opposite side of the bed but the corner of my eyes caught movement…my son’s head emerged. I immediately held out my right palm to support his head.

From that moment on, everything turned slow-mo for me.

Seeing my son delivered only up to neck level, my immediate thoughts were, Will my son be alright if we wait at this position till the midwife return? No, I don’t think so.

“Love, I need you to push.” I told Moon.

And a hard push she gave.

I used my left hand to support the whole of my son. Seeing that the umbilical cord still connected between Moon and my son, I knew it was impossible to induce his first breath. I improvised by sticking my right index finger into his mouth. He had his first cry, and with that, his first breath.

Immediately, I looked at the wall where the digital clock hung and took noted of the time.

“Sir, slowly put down the baby onto the bed. I will take over from here.” Said the calm voice of the second midwife.

I recited to the her the time of birth while laying my son onto the bed gently, and proceeded to wash away the blood that was splattered onto my arms.

The second midwife took over from there to complete the rest of the procedures.

I then reached for the digital camera to take pictures of my first born as he was placed on the weighing scale.

It had been more than a decade and the memory is still crystal clear.

Being a father is a great experience by itself, and having the good fortune to deliver my son with my own hands made it all the more special.

*Oh, on a said note…apart from the fame among the doctors and nurses, our gynecologist waived off part of the medical fees.

Hope you enjoyed my experience.

Till the next post…


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