Fatherhood Day One

By James R. Allred

    Tom’s hand was going to be mangled for the rest of his life after this. It was not only extremely painful, it was the most frightening thing he had experienced since the wedding twenty two months ago. He knew he was maimed as he felt his wife’s nails dig in.

    Suddenly the pressure released and Donna sat up, looked around at the birthing room and said, “This room is so nice. I am glad we chose to come here.”

    Reaching out with his free hand Tom stroked Donna’s face. He couldn’t believe how in the middle of labor she was so incredibly beautiful. He had been told there would be times like this, between contractions when she would suddenly go from the agony of giving birth to euphoria. 

    Tom was careful not to look down where the doctor and nurses were gathered. He was not keen on the thought of the blood that he had been told were part of the birth process.

    Turning his attention back to his wife and trying to be ready for the next contraction he knew was coming any moment. Even as he was thinking about it, one of the nurses commented that it was starting. Shifting his grip on Donna’s hand, Tom told her, “It’s starting again, you should start your breathing.”

    Donna’s response was, “You don’t need to tell me, I know what’s happening.” An edge came to her voice as the pain started to mount, every muscle in her body tensing to help push the baby down the birth canal.

    As Donna strained, Tom heard the doctor comment, “The head is starting to crown. Keep pushing, keep pushing.” Donna bore down, willing the baby to be born. The strain had her panting for breath, not the rhythm that had been emphasized in the pre birth classes but short sharp gasps.

    Tom spoke encouragingly, “You can do it. You are doing so well. Push just a little more.” Donna did not respond, her face was contorted as she strained. Suddenly the contraction ended. Donna took a deep breath and sat up, commenting once more on how nice the room was.

    It had all started as another drive to the hospital for what they thought would be another round of Braxton Hicks contractions. The nurses had handled getting them situated in the birthing room with practiced efficiency. They left the room so Donna could change to the hospital gown and lie down on what looked like a regular bed. Periodically they would seem to wander in at seemingly random times to see how Donna was doing. One of them would check on how Donna was progressing with becoming dilated.

    At first the contractions had been mild but the time finally came when Donna had sent him out to get the nurse and say that she was ready to have the epidural. When she came in the nurse said, “Just a moment while I check how you're dilated.” Her next words were the start of frantic activity, “Too late, the baby’s here.”

    Tom could hear the nurse on the phone out at their station, “Tell the doctor to get up here now or he’s going to miss the birth!”

    Suddenly a team of nurses and aids were transforming what had been a pleasant hotel room into a delivery room. Out of cabinets came equipment, the bottom third of the bed disappeared as stirrups and other paraphernalia sprouted up. Gripps for Donna to hold on to during labor mushroomed on either side. Now it was time for Tom to stay out of the way, relegated to his busy work of being the “Breathing Coach.” 

    As the next contraction came on, the doctor said, “Okay, the head is out. The next one ought to do it. Almost at once as though Donna’s body was aware that the final moments of birth had come, a final titanic effort brought the baby out.

    Quickly the umbilical was tied off and some strange scissors were handed to Tom for the first real thing he had to do during the delivery. With his heart in his throat, Tom cut the cord. Suddenly Tom found himself holding his son. They had agreed to have it kept as a surprise, no reveal party, no pre buying pink or blue clothing and blankets. Tom felt stunned, for nine months he had been preparing for this and now it came as a complete shock.

    Taking the few steps needed to hand their child to his mother Tom lowered the infant into the nest of his mother’s arms.

    Gazing at the little miracle she was holding, Donna said, “I want another.”

    A moment later one of the nurses came and asked Tom to carry his son to the nursery. For this important mission Tom found himself sheathed in a long sleeved gown with gloves on his hands and a mask on his face. With careful steps Tom walked down the hall as though he was carrying the most valuable and fragile thing in the world.

    The attendant at the nursery let Tom convey his charge to a scale for weighing and then to a platform under warming lamps where she bathed and cleaned the infant. Thankfully he had grabbed the camera and was able to snap some pictures at each step. Now with his first diaper on he was placed in an incubator and Tom returned to join his wife.

    In moments Donna was moved to another room while Tom was bringing up the rear of the procession, carrying the belongings that had been brought for Donna’s use while at the hospital. 

    They spent some time just talking, it was amazing how much they found to say about the new arrival in their lives. While Donna talked, Tom gazed at the incredible woman who had just given birth. The name they had given him was becoming a familiar and comfortable sound to their ears. Eric, the name struck Tom’s ears like harmonious music.

    Finally it was time for Tom to head home. It seemed so strange to be leaving Donna there. It was lonely at the house, a weird echoing feeling inside his heart. At the same time the emotions he was feeling about having a son were taking him on a rollercoaster ride.

    Tom had never felt that he was the mushy sentimental type, certainly not someone who spouted poetry. Somehow he found himself sitting down and writing.

Being a father; what a change it makes,

An infant lightly held in awkward arms,

So fragile to face my rough mistakes,

Grabbing my heart with wondrous charms.

A blessing that will change my life,

Reordering all my plans and schemes.

All has changed with this new life.

How wondrous are these new dreams.

A Father a Dad,

Name from the past that I desire.

Greater now this life than what I had.

A feeling in me like glorious fire.

    It had been a wonderful eventful day. What would the coming days bring? He could only dream and had no inkling that he would be wishing for an instruction manual when the new little bundle made it home tomorrow. For now he went blithely to bed.