This is the tale of how I managed to miss my baby’s birth… Yep, you read that correctly. No, I didn’t adopt or have a surrogate and yes I was present and awake for his delivery. How is this possible you might ask? Let me educate you, dear reader. I feel I must place the blame fairly and squarely on R&B music and ball point pens.
Just over two weeks ago my life was fairly routine. Every day I ate breakfast, showered, dressed and wondered if my swollen ankles could get any bigger. Every other day I headed off to hospital so they could monitor Bub’s health and mine. The news got progressively worse and I wound up needing an emergency caesarean. I was pretty calm as I had been practically living at the hospital and was surrounded by familiar faces.
The nurses prepped me for theatre without any dramas, the anaesthetist gave me a spinal anaesthetic and a blue sheet was placed over me blocking my view of my belly. One nurse asked me what music I would like played while my child was born – I asked for “Mack the Knife” by Ella Fitzgerald or “Staying Alive” by the BeeGees. Unfortunately the lovely lady lacked a sense of humour and was quite bemused by my requests. I am pretty eclectic in my tastes but I settled on blues or jazz music as I figured that would be soothing for Bub. Whoever was in charge of selecting the music decided to have a little fun though and smashed out some New Kids on the Block R&B instead. I thought it was hilarious while my mother was just plain confused.
Not being able to see or feel what was happening was boring so I started chatting away to the anaesthetist about random things. When he complained about his pen not working, we had a nice conversation about how pens that you ‘acquire’ always work better than ones you obtain legally. I was just pointing out that it had to be from the vicarious thrill of getting away with petty theft when I heard the surgeon cough a few times. Apparently he had been trying to get my attention for a little while and was actually holding my baby up in front of me. Oops!!
I was temporarily dumbstruck when I saw my baby for the first time – a state I don’t often find myself in. I think the first word out of my mouth was “mine” as I reached for him. The nurse had to pry my fingers open so they could take him off me for monitoring as I couldn’t seem to make them work. He was only a wee little thing at 2.7 kg (5 pounds, 9 ounces) but he had one hell of a set of lungs on him like his Mama. I couldn’t be more proud. He’s packing on the weight now and is an absolute joy to behold.
So there you have it, a dramatic end to a drama-filled pregnancy.