The first guest blogger is Jack McClane, who blogs at A Blog About Nothing...Much. The topic that Jack writes about here is something I can relate to, since if you ask me what the greatest moments in my life were, I would tell you - without any hesitation - that it was the day that each of my two children were born.
I’m in labour!
The title of this story was what my wife  told me during an early morning phone call while I was away for work in  Perth, Western Australia. At the time of this story, my wife and I and  our eldest daughter were living in Adelaide, South Australia.  My wife,  Lisa was heavily pregnant but wasn’t due for over 3 weeks. I had been  away for 4 days and I was due to fly home that afternoon.  With a little  over 3 weeks left to go I thought no problems with the schedule.  How  wrong was I!
Here is the story of my mad dash home the day my youngest daughter, Lara was born.
12.45am Perth time, February 8, 2005. 
I had just jumped into bed after a long  day working.  My usual pre-bed routine was to put my phone on vibrate as  the usual east coast phone calls would start coming in at about 7am  local time.  My head office was in Brisbane which is 2 hours in front of  Perth time.  As I wouldn’t be rising until after head office started  clicking into gear, I always kept my phone on vibrate during my Perth  trips to avoid any early morning wake up calls, especially tonight,  having gone to bed so late.   I was lying there and I had an urge to  actually put my phone on ringer.  Not sure why I had the urge, I took it  off of vibrate, just in case.
At 1am, I am still awake. My phone  rings.  I have a different ring tone for my wife so instantly I knew it  was her calling.  Glancing at the clock I also knew it was 3.30am in  Adelaide.  It doesn’t take a scientist to know what this call is about.   I answer the phone expectantly.  Lisa informs me that she is in  labour.  I don’t recall the exact specifics of the conversation but I am  sure we discuss whether it is real or not as with her first pregnancy,  Lisa had a few falsies.  I think they are called Braxton Hicks (someone  can correct me if I am wrong).  It doesn’t take long for Lisa to  convince me that this is the real deal.
Shit! I gotta get out of here and get to  Adelaide, pronto!  By car it is 2,703km or a 4 day drive.  Too far to  start driving.  The baby will be celebrating her first birthday by the  time I get there. By plane and as the crow flies the distance from Perth  to Adelaide is approx 1,750km flying over the Great Australian Bight,  Spencer Gulf and Gulf St Vincent.  Quicker option but I know flights  don’t leave Perth in the middle of the night.  I hang up the phone from  Lisa after telling her I am coming home and secretly wishing she keeps  her legs crossed.  I call QANTAS and explain the situation.  There is a  flight leaving Perth at 6.25am which will have me back in Adelaide at  11.45am.  Now I hope there are spare seats available.  There are!  I am  then informed that I have to purchase a new ticket as because I was  within 24 hours of my flight I couldn’t make any changes.  Not in the  mood for arguing, I do so.
 I do the maths quickly in my head.  Ok,  she’s in labour at approx 3.30am Adelaide time.  I arrive in Adelaide at  11.45am and then add on 30 mins for cab to the hospital.  Ok, I can get  there at 12.15pm.  That’s less than 9 hours after going into labour.   She can hold on.  Our first daughter, Michaela was in labour for well  over 22 hours.
I’m a chance to make it.
I call Lisa and tell her the news.  She  is on her way to the hospital with her mum and Michaela.  I talk to  Michaela and tell her everything is going to be ok.  She sounds excited,  even after getting woken in the middle of the night.  She said she’ll  look after mummy.  What a good girl.
Now what do I do?  By now it is 1.30am  and I have the flight in 5 hours.  I decide sleep is a must as it is  going to be a very long day.  Remember I still hadn’t slept since the  night before.  I quickly pack my things so I am ready to fly out the  door when I wake.
Did I sleep?  Of course not. I am excited.  Nervous. Scared. On edge.  Disappointed I’m not there.
 I get up and send a few emails to work  and to people I am meant to be meeting in Perth that day.  Don’t try  contacting me. I’m rushing back to Adelaide and explained why.  So that  took all of 5 minutes.  I remember flicking on the TV and watching some  infomercials.  That’s some quality TV.  I quickly switch it off.
I then recall a time in 1994 when I was  in Darwin, eager to leave asap.  I arrived at the Darwin airport at  midnight, 12 hours early for a flight to Brisbane in the hope I might  get an earlier one.  As it turned out, I did.  I was put onto an  international flight which was stopping over in Darwin.  I landed in  Brisbane 4 hours before I was due to depart Darwin.  I was also upgraded  to first class which was amazing but I digress.  So I get my gear  together, check out and go to the airport.  I dropped off my hire car  and proceeded inside to a ghost town.  There was no one there so that  was a bad idea. Then I remembered that the international airport was  separate to the domestic.  I decided against trying as I had dropped off  my keys and knew that it was a hopeless cause anyway.
So I waited.  Slowly the airport buzzed  into life.  I still hadn’t slept.  I checked in and got my boarding  pass.  Mid deck!  Damn.  Being mid deck means an extra few minutes  waiting to deboard the plane.  It could be costly.
While waiting to board the plane I call  Lisa for an update.  She is big time in labour and this is the real  deal.  I hope I hid my panic!  I didn’t panic.  I don’t think I did.   Maybe I did.  Who knows?  Passengers who overhear my phone call wish me  well and are all hoping I make it on time.  Lisa also explained that  Michaela would be taken home by our friend, Belinda.  This is good as  the poor thing is probably really worried and a bit of a fish out of  water.
We board.  So slowly.
We get the safety instructions.  So slowly.
We taxi. So slowly.
We finally are in the air and for the  first time, I am out of contact.  I have no way of knowing what is  happening at the hospital.  It is the most anxious, slowest 3 hours of  my life.  I fight the urge to go to the cockpit and explain my situation  to the pilots in the hope they might put their foot on the gas and  break the sound barrier for me.  They probably wouldn’t believe me  anyway, mistaking me for an impatient businessman eager to make a  meeting on time.
I think I drifted off to sleep. If I did,  it would have been for seconds at a time.  I refuse the early morning  flight breakfast. I’m too anxious to eat.  I keep checking my watch.   The minutes are going so slowly.  Different scenarios are being played  through my mind.  When we land do I push my way to the front of the  passengers waiting to deboard?  Do I run like a mad man to the taxis?  I  imagine that I make it to the hospital on time, arriving seconds before  the baby is born.
Finally we land.  We are on time. Yes!
The taxiing to the terminal goes slowly.   I could run faster than this.  Actually anyone who knows me back then  knows this is not true but adrenaline does amazing things when you call  on it.
The passengers in front of me deboard so slowly.  I want to punch each one of them in the back of the head for being so slow.
I finally make it into the terminal and I  turn on my phone – in those days the Adelaide airport is a shed and you  have to disembark and walk across the tarmac so no mobile phones are  allowed.  My phone springs to life and I receive a text message from  Belinda.  I debate whether to read it or not.  Curiosity gets the better  of me and I do.  I can’t recall exactly what it said but it went along  the lines of:
| Lara - Just a few hours old | 
“Congratulations. You have a daughter.  Born at 9.01am weighing 7lb 5oz.  Lisa and baby are well”
 My heart sinks.  I am so disappointed  that I wasn’t there for not only the baby, but also for Lisa.  Every  mother wants her husband with her during this amazing time.  I hold my  emotions and get in a taxi and I head to the hospital.
Suitcase in hand, I rush into the  maternity section.  To my surprise, Michaela is still there, waiting in  the waiting room with Lisa’s mum.  I drop my bags and fall to my knees  and hug Michaela and then burst into tears.  The emotion of it all has  finally caught up with me.  I wasn’t expecting Michaela to be there. I  am glad she is.  I apologised for not being there with her.  She hugs me  back and is excited that she is there for the birth of her little  sister.  She had been so excited that at the age of 7, she was finally  getting a real life playmate.
We go in and see Lisa who is recovering  from a C Section.  I start crying again and tell her how sorry I am that  I wasn’t there.  Lisa is a fragile thing and I know she needed me there  at the time that she needed me most. I had let her down.  She looks  beautiful and is happy.  The baby is not there with her in recovery so  it is time to go and see my new daughter.
| The day after - I still look tired | 
Michaela and I go to the nursery and that  is where I meet Lara for the very first time.  I look down at the most  precious little girl. So beautiful.  So perfect.  I pick her up and  cradle her in my arms.  She’s tightly wrapped in a patchwork blanket and  is wearing a little white jumpsuit with a pink collar.  I also notice  she has more hair than me already!  She is sleeping soundly.  I am so  happy and I cry again.  This time it is tears of joy.  I tell her  something which she wouldn’t understand.  It is a promise.  I promise  her that I will always be there for her and I will never miss an  important moment in her life.  I feel like I let her down by not being  there when she came into this earth.  The least I can do is make sure I  am there for her whenever she needs me in the future.
So far so good.
I missed the birth of my second daughter,  Lara by 3 hours.  This was the story of my journey home and what  happened that morning. Hopefully she will read this one day and know how  sorry I am that I wasn’t there for her during her first few hours.
Oh, that was lovely. Feeling a little choked up. And love the sweet promise whispered in baby Lara's ear.
ReplyDeletemichelle
ohhhh!! You made me cry Jack! I love reading birth stories, but don't think i've ever read one from the Dad's perspective.
ReplyDeleteMrs. B - is that a hint? Look for it here soon.
ReplyDeleteI'm a midwife and I love it that dad's are there for most births - its something special; although even when you don't make it, the fact that you were on the way is still really special! feral007
ReplyDeleteFerel007 - yes, things have changed since my generation was born. Back then dads weren't allowed into the labor or delivery rooms and had to wait in the waiting room with everyone else. That would have been much harder than being with her through it all. Not to mention being there for that incredible moment.
ReplyDeleteaw... that's a wonderful story. And I am so glad all are well.
ReplyDelete