A home birth after all

Ken writes: Finally an end to all those pregnancy posts! Now Dot can write about child birth and rearing instead. I need to write this one, however, as Dot is in hospital.

Our son Hugh was born at home this morning, which came as a surprise since we were planning a hospital birth.

The waters began to trickle out just after nine o’clock last night, and burst well and truly at about ten. We knew we were supposed to go in to the hospital if this happened to get it checked out. Somehow it took about an hour to get there although there was no traffic on the roads. I guess it’s hard to be efficient when you’re very excited as we were.

There was a palpable sense of possibility in the air. Alice’s contractions hadn’t really started yet, in her opinion, and though there were a few twitches in the car on the way in, they were no way near regular. It felt like we were on a threshold. The labour and the new role of being parents hadn’t started yet, but the old life stage was coming to an end. I’m told you know you should answer yes to a marriage proposal if you feel a tiny bit scared and excited at the same time. Well, I think I felt that way last night. The moment had come to affirm our son in the loudest, proudest and most heart-felt terms! He shall be! He is!

At hospital, they examined her and sent us home, with an appointment for the birth to be induced if she hadn’t gone into labour before Friday morning. On the drive home we saw a fox carrying a bag. Hugh the fox. He will be clever.

We were both exhausted when we got home around 1am. It was hard to get to sleep.

It was harder to wake up, when at 5:15 or thereabouts Alice gave me a shake. She astutely thought it was time to go into hospital. The labour must have been waiting for me to get up, because once she woke me the labour really accelerated. I was dithering trying to get on clothes and running back over the same ground. I actually had a very quick shower. Outwardly I played it cool, but I was fast and she was talking. We had been told that you know it’s time to go in to hospital when the woman can no longer talk through a contraction. But, there was no way we were going to get in to hospital on time, even if I drove really fast and Alice sat with her legs crossed all the way!

Alice was on her hands and knees in the living room and she needed to push. I checked and there was no sign of the baby. We called the ambulance, and it seemed to take a hundred years to give them our name and address. Hung up. Rushed around flat putting on lights for said ambulance. Ran outside and moved car out of way of ambulance. Ran inside. Checked stuff. Alice was on hands and knees and needing to push. I began timing a contraction and the phone rang and it was the emergency operator. Alice pushed. I checked and the baby’s head was completely out and he was breathing. I dropped the phone and held the baby’s head. He came out with the next push. 5:45 am. Probably.

That part of it, from what I can tell from remembering looking at my watch and then later when the ambulance men arrived pretty much immediately afterwards, may have taken about eight minutes.

in the maternity ward

at the hospital

a proud dad (who need to learn how not to over-expose photos)

Now I’ve posted this, I can get set tidying the flat, as you can imagine it’s a bit of a mess.