What I Expected at My First Son’s Birth
When my wife was pregnant with our first son, I would talk to fathers about what to expect, mainly during labor and delivery. Many of them, like my Uncle Brian, described seeing your child born as a mind-blowing experience. I remember him saying “dude” a lot.
Fathers told me I’d see this miracle taking place and would receive this clarity of thought. My place in the universe will be solidified when I’m asked to cut the umbilical cord—and I must cut the umbilical cord! It will all be a mystical experience and I’d better pay attention. As the due date approached (and passed), I prepared myself. I expected fireworks and angelic choirs. I was ready to receive some sort of epiphany about, dude, my life and the world.
The Actual Experience
My wife was induced six days after the due date. Susan’s mother was in the room with us. I had a camcorder and a camera to digitally preserve the blessed event. You know, just in case there was a shaft of light or something.
Mateo Thomas was born after several hours of bearing down, pushing, the doctor wielding a vacuum pump, and still more pushing. He was whisked away to get cleaned up and checked out. I remember smiling a lot. I snapped photos as they weighed him, nine pounds fourteen ounces. Later I learned that because he was born face up it effectively adds another pound as it relates to the effort of labor. When I was confident that Mateo was okay, I went back to Susan. The nurses said she pushed like a champ.
I was not asked to cut the umbilical cord. The labor was difficult and the doctor was more concerned about the mother’s well-being. Maybe that’s what did it or I guess what didn’t do it. I saw Mateo being born. I watched his quivering body as he took his first breaths to cry and cry. I looked into his face, into his eyes. I looked into the exhausted, pale face of my wife. I listened for the angels. I watched for the warm, orange glow to envelope us. I waited to sense the cosmic connection between me and my firstborn.
And nothing.
6 Comments
Honestly, I bet it’s because you already know your place in the cosmic scheme. Or because you’re more analytical than sentimental.
Either way, I’m glad you’re comfortable with who you are as opposed to who Hallmark would prefer you be.
hmm….
and thinking about child birth is the most effective form of birth control ever….
I think that’s basically it, Kenny. Except I think I’m plenty sentimental.
I generally agree, Nichole. Though it’s hard to remember that when your hand is on the small of her back. Maybe I’ll show my sons and their date a birthing video every time they go on a date.
It’s funny, this weekend I just heard a guy talking about how when a dad sees his new baby, everything changes…
Whatev, cliches are best refuted.
I guess I’m not sentimental enough either. I was energetic during the delivery for sure, but no cosmic connection….then again, my mind was blow enough (the wrong way) after watching a video during a pre-natal class. I was pretty much done with the whole sediment of birthing a child.
BTW, I believe Jose is sentimental…the pro/con scorecard he created to quantify his emotional nature was very convincing!
err, sentiment