It would be true to say that becoming a father changes life
more than you could ever imagine. It starts from the moment that you find out
and I doubt it will ever stop changing.
My wife and I found out that we were pregnant differently to
many couples; I was in the privileged position of being able to break the news myself
rather than being told. Beth had been complaining that she had not been feeling
right for a while and after a negative pregnancy test during our honeymoon in
the February we thought that it would take some time to be blessed. A month
later Beth complained again about feeling odd and after a busy day at work I suggested
taking another test to be sure. Of course I expected the result to be negative again
and felt quite lost and confused when it went straight to positive in front of
my eyes.
I thought that there was a mistake with the test, saying that’s
odd…
3 further tests later (thankfully Tesco’s were running a
promotion) we were excited beyond words.
From this point on we spent many trips at Burton Hospital, I
was lucky to be able to attend every scan and appointment. However when we went
to our 28th week growth scan we were delicately told that there
appeared to be a problem. Our baby we were told, wasn’t growing enough. We were
then taken through to the consultant and informed that we may need to have an
early delivery at any time.
It was frightening. I have never felt so helpless or at the
hands of nature before. Weeks went by and once we got to 37 weeks Beth started
to feel not so well, we had a couple of emergency trips to Burton after this
point with her fainting, not feeling movement (until we got there) and general check-ups.
Once we got to 40 weeks our consultant informed us that Beth
would not be able to carry past 40+7. At this stage the induction was booked
and I was shocked at the 7am arrival time that was booked in. It wasn’t an
error though, that’s when they start these…..
My paternity leave had been set to start from the Monday of
the next week, and despite a false alarm on the same day Burton flooded I put
this back as far as I could. However once we got to the Monday of our due week I
had to take the leave as Beth was no longer safe to be able to do things on her
own unaided.
We had packed our bags a long time before, so we were ready
with bottled water in the boot and the baby on board window sign at the ready.
We were up early on the morning of induction (Friday) and we went to Burton via
the Uttoxeter MacDonald’s drive through, macs breakfast was immense and we
drove through frozen fog on the way in. At 6.45 ish we arrived at the hospital and
after a short toilet stop in the entrance we went on up to the ward.
We started in our own bay, with Beth hooked up to the
monitor a pessary followed shortly after and then we were left to it.
That first Friday there really wasn’t much going on; we had
lunch together and dinner too which was nice. It was odd though as half way
through the day we were moved into the other ward due to an outbreak of d+v.
But it was nicer, there were 6 beds and the others there were very friendly.
Beth had some back pain, but not much and mostly we chatted
and walked throughout the day.
I left at 9 that evening, to drive home and I found it
really difficult to leave Beth that evening.
I felt responsible for her care, being tired I struggled driving home
but managed it and an hour later I went through our front door. After
responding to all the text messages and voicemails I finally went to bed at
midnight.
After what felt like a blink of the eyes it was time to get
up again, showered and back in the car driving to Burton. Arriving at the
hospital I wasn’t allowed back into the ward straight away, they said that they
were sleeping – which Beth said was untrue and they finally let me in just
about 8.
Once in, Beth told me that she was having contractions and
that they had been going since the early hours. VERY excited!
For the rest of the day, we spent a lot of time having baths
talking and I rubbed Beth’s back until my hand was sore. A small role to me but
it made all the difference to her.
The pessary was removed shortly around 9 and in the
afternoon a sister from the birthing unit came to examine Beth. It was awful.
Beth was in tears as she wasn’t gentle at all and her bedside manner was an
absolute disgrace. Beth turned her back to her and the sister left muttering
that she would inspect her in the morning but not to get her hopes up.
Beth cried for a good hour, distraught and feeling that she
was doing it wrong and despite my assurances of the opposite her heart
literally broke. Dinner arrived for Beth and I went to the canteen to get my
tea. I sat in the canteen eating some dinner, but the pressure and the events
of the past 24 hours just overwhelmed me. I sat in tears, quietly crying in a
mixture of fear, helplessness and lack of sleep. At the end of my meal, I dried
my eyes, blew my nose put my smile back on and returned to the maternity ward
to continue my position of back rubs and drinks runs.
Then a kind nurse arrived, she said that the best thing to
do would be to sit on a Swiss ball. Spell letters, write words and bounce. OH MY WORD, what a game changer, it made such
a difference.
At 9 that evening as I was due to go home, we got talking
and I was delayed. A different sister came to examine Beth on the off chance
and said that she was 1.5 cm. She asked us to wait and called through to
delivery who agreed to take us down for Beth’s waters to be broken.
I felt as though we had a winning lottery ticket, we
practically skipped to the delivery unit and made ourselves comfortable in our little
room.
Beth was seen to straight away by a doctor who broke her
waters, much less than I expected. No gush or anything just a small trickle of
water. We were then left and I was taken through to the other side of the unit
where I was shown the kitchen. I made us a coffee and a hot chocolate which we
both enjoyed. Nothing much happened until about midnight when the midwife came
through and after an examination explained that Beth needed to go onto a drip
to kick-start the contractions. This was very effective, and her contractions really
kicked in around 1. At 2 I went to the toilet and came back to find Beth was on
her side. She had convinced the midwife that this was needed and the perfect
position to deliver the baby! Well, I put a stop to that quite quick and Beth returned
to her back position. I then took Beth to the toilet and after this she struggled
to get back into bed. I called through to the midwife for some help. She came
through and examined Beth to find that she was 7cm. At this point I demanded
something more than just gas and air for Beth and they gave her Meptid.
Explained as a sedative that won’t stop the pain but would enable her to forget
it afterwards. For the next minutes we went through a mixture of heavy
contractions, with Beth finally demanding Pethadine – er no that’s not what you
wanted. Followed closely by ‘I want a caesarean’. Er no that’s not what you
wanted and so on… I had my work cut out
with Beth sleeping between contractions – but at-least one of us could!
I am not sure of the time but sometime around 3, Beth
screamed that the baby was coming. The midwife said ‘It’s too soon you can’t be’.
But after an examination was told that she was now 10 cm and to start pushing
when she was ready.
It’s strange to say but I always said that I didn’t want to
watch a baby being born; I thought that it would really have quite a negative
effect on me. But when I happened to glance down and see the baby’s head
crowning I struggled to take my eyes away. Six pushes and our daughter was born
at 03.12.
During those first few moments it was a mixture of what
appeared to be unexpected events. First our daughter was presented to me and
the midwife said congratulations. Beth asked what we had and in the confusion I
couldn't distinguish and simply said ‘it’s a, it’s a baby’. Both midwife and
Beth stopped and looked at me, before the midwife confirmed we had been blessed
with a beautiful baby girl.
In every ‘dad to be’ book I read during the pregnancy I was
told that I should cut the cord, it’s apparently a magical moment, a moment of
bonding between me and our new-born. The dream and the reality were two very
different things. When the midwife offered I accepted, but was not prepared for
the spatter of blood (which I had to clean off my face and Beth) or the fact
that they give you what appear to be blunt scissors to do the job and it’s like
cutting garden hose.
Grim, although that was nothing it turns out in comparison
to the placenta. I was distracted when the midwife declared, ‘here’s the
placenta’. Why did I look?
Anyway, we then spent some time together as a new family,
Beth fell asleep within the first 30 mins or so and it left me with our
daughter, whom we had decided to name Grace Amelia. I fed her the first bottle
and it was lovely a real time of bonding between us.
Beth awoke and went for a bath, when she returned we talked
about the name and decided that although it had been her name for the past
hour, Grace didn’t fit. We decided quite easily to change her name to Eloise
Amelia a perfect fit for our bundle of joy.
After about 2 hours we returned to the maternity ward,
luckily I was able to stay with my wife and daughter and slept (v badly) on a
chair in the corner of our cubicle. We were lucky to be able to come home the
same day at 14.15 and that walk from the ward to the car was a truly special
time. Driving home that day I felt a new sense of responsibility and the
precious cargo I was carrying couldn't have made me prouder.
It’s true to say that my life – our lives changed forever
with the arrival of Eloise. But do you know what- I would do it all again in a
heartbeat, the dirty nappies, juggling work with home, the late night feeds and
the screams… All just for one of those glances that says ‘you are my dad you
make the world turn’ – not to mention the most recent addition of actual ‘Dadda’.
