It takes two to tango

"Make sure your phone is fully charged and on you at all times."  Those were the stern words delivered to DD as he started his working week. You see my prediction that baby number two would arrive convienently over the weekend as number one had done had been predictably wrong so we were starting the week with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. 

All business trips had been completed or scheduled around D-day and the hospital bag had finally been packed. We were as ready as is possible when juggling work and a toddler. But in London nowhere is close. On a good day it takes DD well over an hour to get home, and there is always the looming threat of tube delays or bad traffic. So even the most meticulous planning and discussions surrounding every possible scenario could not guarantee DD would make it to the hospital in time to witness the birth of his second child. And this was something we were both worried about, in fact we would have been devastated if he wasn't there for as much of the labour as possible. So with a recent study concluding it isn't always a good thing for a partner to be present during childbirth I started thinking about why it was so important for me personally that mine was by my side.

Firstly it takes two to tango. So while us women are tasked with the responsibility of carrying the precious package around for nine months and the unenviable job of pushing him or her out into the world the least they can do is wait on us hand and foot while we do so. Whether it is rubbing our pork chops of feet at the end of a long, bloated day. Dealing with our cravings or putting up with our hormonal, irrational moments. Maybe it's assuring us we are "all bump" when really we are anything but. There are things that can help ease the pressures physically and emotionally and I believe making sure those needs are met are a partners responsibility. 

The same goes during the childbirth itself. Giving birth is exhausting, unpredictable, emotional, painful and at times really scary. So they might not be able to take the pain away, but they can give us their hand to be crushed, rub our backs for hours on end or assure us we can do it when we honestly feel like we can't. How can support in any shape or form be a bad thing?

When asked what it was like watching his wife give birth the musician Robbie Williams said it was like watching his favourite pub burn down. While the comment was obviously meant as an amusing observation I have heard stories of men that have found childbirth a harrowing, distressing and life changing experience. I have a bit of sympathy for them, I'm sure watching your partner go through such a painful thing can be scary. But then again if the birth isn't a straightforward, pleasant experience then you can bet that as traumatic as it was for the man, it was 100 times more so for the women. So when it comes to this side of things I'm sorry but I have to say the phrase 'Man up' could not be more appropriate. 

They probably do feel helpless with everything taken out of their control, but childbirth is out of anyone's control, and like DD said to me when I exclaimed that I didn't think I could finish the job, you have to, there's no choice. The baby has to come out and I can promise that like women report that the pain is forgotten when the baby arrives I'm sure the same can be said for the fathers.

But one of the main reasons I wanted him there was that I wanted him to see what I had to go through.  You don't get a medal for having a baby, but at the very least you should be able to get some heavy duty respect and praise from your other half. I wanted him to see how brave his wife is, how tough and how despite what he might have thought how high my pain threshold really is. I wanted him to appreciate what I had to go through to bring this baby into our family. To fully appreciate the consequences of his actions! I think it helps in the days following for the man to have seen first hand how exhausting the process is so that they make sure they step up and do as much as possible after the birth. Same as you want people cheering at the finish line of a marathon, it's nice to have your biggest supporter in life witness your finest moment.

Lastly I wanted my husband to be there for his sake. I wanted him to be one of the first people to meet his son or daughter. To witness their first breath, first cry and marvel in all their, squishy, gooey gorgeousness. I wanted us to have that first moment as a family. A moment that we could look back and remember whenever times were tough, during the sleepless nights and the long tiring days...

D-day

There's not much you need to know about the day the piglet was born. To be honest childbirth isn't the most pleasant of dinner table topics. Nor is it something I really want to relive in minute detail as I try and turn it into some kind of meaningful prose. Therefore this isn't going to be the longest of chapters.

Thank god I hear you say. For a moment there I bet you thought I was going to tell you how my waters exploded straight into the face of my unassuming midwife. How she got a little more than she bargained for when she went poking about quite late on in the piece...

Likewise I won't write about how nothing, and I mean nothing, can prepare you for just how much those contractions hurt. Not even watching the omnibus of One Born Every Minute gives you the heads up.

Watching OBEM was handy however when it came to instructing DD on how to behave in the delivery suite.

One relevant episode saw a D2B (Dad to be) fall asleep during his partners labour. Now to be fair to the man it was a very long labour and his only companion for the duration was his incredibly boring mother-in-law. But still, he did manage to snooze through a fair amount of screaming so I'm wondering if he snuck some earplugs in? At one point he even asked her to keep the noise down. I don't think I need to tell you her response....

Anyway, nothing was said at the time but I did notice that DD was watching that episode quite intently.

"Can you please make sure you get some cans of redbull for your hospital bag." Requests DD a week before D-Day.

"Nah, it's ok. I've been told water and sports drinks are better during labour. But that's cool that you have been thinking about what I will need to get me through, very sweet." I say, feeling very smug that I should have such a caring, thoughtful husband. "Not for you, for me!" He reply's passionately.

"I need you to make sure I have plenty of redbull to hand ok, so can you please make sure you buy a 12 pack today and put them in the fridge so that they are chilled and ready to go."

"I'm sorry are you confused? Is it you that will be giving birth? No! In fact I have the honour of that particular task. So why the hell are you the one that will need the energy drinks?!"

"You know how I have a habit of falling asleep easily." He answers.

This was true he did sleep like a baby (this was obviously written by someone who had never had a baby as they do not sleep, making this analogy entirely misleading in my opinion.)

"You could have a long labour and I'm worried I might get sleepy like that guy on TV and you'll go nuts."

"Umm I think seeing your first born entering the world will provide you with enough adrenalin to keep you awake dont you?"

"Mmm I wouldn't want to bet on it. Remember that time I fell asleep in the middle of that huge argument.."

I do remember, I also remember wacking him around the head with a pillow to wake him up. He had a point. A 12 pack of redbull was purchased the very next day.

In the end DD only needed 4 cans and we managed to avoid any pillow walloping.

As I mentioned before my waters breaking was a highlight to all in the room, other than the midwife obviously. And apparently the gas and air made me sound like Darth Vader. A fact made more amusing when I turned to DD after one particularly intense contraction and declared that I had just "made that contraction my bitch."

So after 6 or so hours of conquering some pretty intense contractions a little person entered the world and I can't begin to describe how it felt. Anyone who has had a baby will tell you it's the most amazing, surreal experience you will ever have. They are right.

We decided not to find out the sex of the baby before the birth and actually we were so happy that everything seemed ok we forgot to find out after. So after about 10 minutes or so the midwife said we really should find out what we had got, lifted the baby off my chest momentarily, and declared it was a girl.

A girl. I had a daughter. And what a perfect, pint sized, scrumptious, utterly edible daughter she was.

It's true what they tell you. In that moment every ache and pain, sickness and swelling, contraction and agony is worth it. In fact it suddenly disappears. You know that you've been in the most intense pain of your life but you honestly can't remember it. You have your baby in your arms and that's all that matters.

Little white lie...

"This thing tonight goes for an hour right?"

"Mmmmm" I replied non-commitedly.

The thing Devoted Dad was referring to was our first pre-natal class. We had enrolled in these classes to get us ready for birth, and, to be honest, to tell us how to be parents. The reason I mmm'd a response was because I knew full well that tonight's class was going to go for at least two and a half hours, not the mere one DD was expecting.

You see, persuading DD that sharing the most important moment of our life with complete strangers had been hard enough. Throw into the mix that the classes were being held on a week night, straight after work and it was like selling meat to a vegetarian.

So let him go blindly into the meeting thinking he was going to get home in time for dinner and the much anticipated Chelsea game. Who am I to shatter his dreams? Plus, it serves him right for not reading the email.

As DD was coming straight from work it made sense to met him there. But there was a problem. We located the house really easily, meaning we found ourselves by the front door with 10 minutes to spare. "So what's the big deal?" I hear you say, "head straight in and get yourself a good seat." Well that might have been the answer for other couples in our position but DD was reluctant to be there in the first place. Being the first ones there was simply unacceptable.

"Right! We will have to walk around the block" he declares.

"But it's freezing out, and I don't have a coat!" I reply.

"You'll be right" he says marching off, his voice swallowed up by a massive gust of wind.

Wow! There I was thinking being 8 months pregnant allowed me special privileges, obviously not!

So off we go, sticking to the shadows in case any fellow newbies happened to be arriving at the same time. After 10 minutes or so we return to the house, now frozen to the core and me with the sorest feet thanks to having to walk a long distance in heels. (Well I was hardly going to meet prospective friends in flats was I? Plus, I didn't know that we were going on a hike!)

Our walk appeared to have done the trick and we were the last couple to arrive. This meant that all the comfy couches were taken and DD had to sit on the floor. Poetic justice if you ask me!

Now as I explained earlier, DD and myself didn't really know anything about babies before entering that room. Obviously we had figured out how to make them (high five!) but we didn't know how to give birth to them or what to do with them after they had arrived. But we had been watching a LOT of 'One Born Every Minute' and I'm not going to lie, that kind of made us the experts of the group.

The first hour seemed to go well. Thanks to the aforementioned TV show I knew the answers to quite a few of the questions and found some holes in the leader's responses. Apparently it was quite embarrassing when I drilled her for half an hour over her vague statistics regarding haemorrhaging, but I'm sorry, don't throw statements out to a room of journalists if you don't have the statistics to back them up!

To be fair, I was the only journalist in the room, and I was obviously missing work because I questioned that woman like she was on trial at the Hague. But I think the group appreciated the clarification...( I later found out they did nothing of the sort and shared DD's impatience to get the hell home)

Anyways after 'haemorrhage gate', our now slightly frazzled leader announced it was time for a break. Instantly six heads popped up as the men in the room woke themselves up from their boredom induced comas.

DD jumped up from the floor. I say jumped but to be honest it was more of a part jump majority heave as the effects of spending the best part of an hour sitting on the wooden floor took effect. After a rather embarrassing moment of role reversal that saw DD having to be winched to his feet by 4 heavily pregnant women, we were on our way into the kitchen for the promised meal break.

"Help yourself to a biscuit and there's the option of a glass of juice or cup of tea" our leader declared proudly to the room. "And those that are eating for two can have seconds."

Wow did the smiles fade fast as it dawned on us that this was what was meant by 'food will be provided'. You should have seen my DD's face! He looked like someone had clubbed a baby seal in front of him as he looked first to me in panic then to the biscuit tin and back again.

"Don't worry" I whisper, "you can have my second biscuit."

From that moment on it was like being involved in a kind of middle class version of Chinese water torture. Each helpful fact was punctuated with the grumbling of DD's stomach. As his blood sugar levels decreased so too did his patience. It's not often he gets upset or annoyed but when a fellow newbie asked yet another quite obvious question, pushing us over into the three hour mark he was a man on the edge.

We did eventually get out of there and DD's humour was restored with a little detour through the local Maccy D's on the way home. We had several more classes after that one and learnt a lot.

We learnt how to give birth. How to bathe, feed and dress our impending arrival, all useful facts. But most importantly we learnt to never, ever believe it when the pamphlet says 'food will be provided'...