Well. It went and happened. Daughter number 2 bounced (not literally…the hospitals here are quite awesome) in to the world on Monday morning. Yup, the young lady decided to wait until I had just finished a load of night shifts, had very little sleep and then made me stay up for 30+ hours. Thanks kiddo. But Braelyn’s journey here wasn’t an easy one. Before she could arrive, her Mum, or Mrs Sy to you, had to put up with me. Taking the piss. Before, during and after each contraction.
Yup, even in childbirth, I can be, for want of a better word…a bit of a git. In a nice way, naturally.
For instance.
Early in to the contractions, I noticed a couple of things. A couple of useful things that happened each time. My wife…well…she changed. For the better? You decide. I noticed that:
- Every contraction, she set in to “huff huff huff” breathing patterns
- Every contraction, her hand got impressively tight and she could grip things.
So.
I nicknamed her the Swiss Army Wife. Or SAW for short. This is because she could do many things you wouldn’t expect. During the “huff huff huff” stage, I mentioned that if she could maybe oscillate her head from left to right while exhaling…well…I could turn off the fan we had on. See? Save electricity. Take her mind off of things. Do a good deed…so to speak.
And talking of good deeds….the impressively tight hand thing. Wow…I mean honestly…there is me…a man…knowing that this is the end of “fun time” for quite some time as of now…and there is her…with a great grip.
No no no….not that. Geez…perverts. Get your mind back up here will you. Trying to tell a story here! So anyway, now you are back. Thanks for that…I went downstairs, got a load of jars and bottles I have been having trouble opening.
Once all the jars were opened, we had a little game of Tug of War too. The girl has quite a grip. Which I found out a little later.
Moving on to the hospital….and not mentioning the steaming over speed bumps in the car which maybe didn’t help her much. *ahem*
As exciting as childbirth is…it can get a little “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we the….NO!!!!” for a bloke. All that sitting about watching another woman putting her hand in parts of your wife while you wonder if it would be wrong at this point to head out for a sandwich or a chocolate bar. And a beer. Maybe catch a movie. So I figured I should spice it up a little more.
So mid contraction, I started taking photos of her. I have a great set of pictures with her face with a look of “Holy bloody…what the….where the….why is that….OW…BLOODY…CH!”.
She decided it was time to get me back. So mid “pushing” she grabbed my hand. Squeezed. Moved my forefinger inside the clasped hand and made it bend in a way it was just not designed to. It took all of my might to not say “Honey…that REALLY hurts…can you stop? Do your huff huff huff thing again….pleeeeease?!” but I figured “Broken finger vs squeezing out small person” will end in “Sy…you big frigging girl. I mean what the hell…it’s a finger!” That would have come from my friends. My wife would have probably said “You deserved that!” smiled, tootled off and never let me live it down.
And then….15 minutes before Braelyn was born….it got messy. Very very messy. You see, we had the radio on fairly loudly. This stopped the distressed whale noises coming from the room next door. There was my wife…no pain killers at all….just dealing with it with only the use of the odd word that rhymes with “Clucking Bell”. There was another woman obviously giving birth to a fully grown rhino or something from the noises. But I digress…yes, it got messy. You see, on the radio they were having a quiz. One of the questions was “In Sesame Street, who is Bert’s friend?”. My wife, in her “ouchy!” state said “Big bird!” I said “Nooo…it’s Ernie. Bert and Ernie!” “No it isn’t…” she replied. She still had my hand in one hand and my nuts in the other. Do I admit defeat or just go with the “Nope. I am right. Now…oscillate…I am getting hot standing here!”
I don’t admit defeat. Therefore there will be no third child because after tearing my nuts off during the next contraction, she threw them in a sharps bin and said “Effing Big Bird!!”
But anyway. That’s that. And on a totally serious note…YOU WOMEN ARE FRIGGIN NUTS!!! Holy hell…sure, I know I saw daughter number 1 get born, but I had forgotten the hell you go through. Your all insane. Take the drugs will you!
Nuff said.
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