The birth of an Angel

"Aargh, The baby's coming." Theresa groaned in pain as she tried to get up from the bed.

"Where are my fucking keys?" I yelled out in a frustrating voice. Am going crazy right now.

"You can't find the keys; Am in a lot of pains now. Book a Cab." Theresa bawled out.

"Ok, Alright, I'm booking one now." With my hands shaking I picked up my phone and booked the cab.

"Am really freaking out right now." She Whimpered.

"Calm down darling, the driver is on his way." I said trying to make her feel better.

"I should calm down, You want me to calm down?" She gives out a sarcastic laugh.

I wasn't suppose to ask that, now she's looking at me with those mean, sexy eyes. Gosh am thinking of sexy now. Sexy is related to sex. Am going crazy, am not suppose to think of that. I better do something.

"Let me go get your things." I said to her while going to get the already packed bag.

"You can forget the baby things as well."

"You are joking right now. Well Theresa am not forgetting anything because I have been preparing for this day since the day you had your first contraction." This woman just want to get on my nerves.

Thank goodness today is the end of the pregnancy. Am really tired. It's like a disturbing spirit possessed her as she took in. Am okay with one child, I can't go through this torment again. Now am scared of anything I say cause I don't know which one will get her angry even when am trying to care. Ok fine; I give her space she gets angry, I come to close she gets angry. What does she even want?. Pregnant Women.

"Hmmmm." I sighed as I checked my phone and saw the driver just arrived

We got into the car parked outside with the driver waiting inside. I helped her into the car. I was really freaking out and besides it is my first child.

"How are you feeling?" I asked focus on her.

"Did you just asked me that?" What is this man expecting me to say?, That am fine?.

"I just wanted to know if you are okay or comfortable. My bad." Women.

While on the road my feelings changed. I got excited and nervous, I started calling everyone I know, telling them the good news that our daughter is on the way. But I was stopped by Theresa.

Am sure at that time the driver would be pissed cause of the noise am making. Well I know how Theresa feels. My beautiful wife.

"We are almost there, You are doing great, keep breathing." I said trying to encourage her

We were lucky there was no traffic. It wasn't long before we reach the maternity department. I am timing contractions with the clock on my phone - a role I am playing from those movies because I can't remember a single thing from Birthing classes. Hahahaha.

Arriving in the delivery room is a little like dropping your partner on the launch pad and then being banished to a seat at the back of mission control. I'm not complaining, safety is all important and I'd rather the midwives are keeping my wife alive than holding my hand and offering tea. But that doesn't make it any less stressful. Besides I didn't eat anything or take a shower before coming.

"Come on James, You are thinking of food now, while your wife is in pain." I said that out loud. Damn ! Now am talking to myself.

I tried to tell them about the timings but they didn't think it was important anymore. There are machines recording everything about mother and baby and hospital workers popping in and out. Theresa seems okay though, smiling at me as she squeezes my hand. What am I thinking as I sit in the labour ward? Honestly, I don't know. Love? Desperate worry? I seem to have lost the power of coherent thought.

I might be wondering where my mind has gone but Theresa doesn't have time to think about such nonsense.

I'm starting to realise that birthing classes were a guide in the same way that reading a brochure about the Olympics counts as preparation for running a marathon. Actually, childbirth seems more like weightlifting or wrestling. She's pretty tiny, my dear wife, and I didn't realise labour would be so much work. I feel quite useless with my glass of ice cubes and my little wet towel to mop her brow.

In between contractions I've started thinking about how long it might take. There were stories circulating at the classes about somebody's three-day labour. Is that actually possible? And why is there so much pain?.

Then there's a sound from one of the monitors, gentle pinging, like a message on a mobile phone. A second midwife walks into the room. They look at the machine and check Theresa's blood pressure with one of those old fashioned cuffs. One minute ago we were all full of anticipation and Theresa seemed fine. Now, when I look down, she's pale, not talking. The nurse reaches across me to push a bell and it takes about 10 seconds for two more to arrive. And someone pushing a trolley, like in Casualty or ER.

It's frightening watching things happen you've only seen before on TV. The one thing I know is that I want to hold Theresa's hand. Our baby isn't born yet so she hasn't got her name. Yesterday we decided she's going to be Elizabeth...

I can't even stand near Theresa because there are doctors everywhere now. Drips in both arms and an anaesthetist is holding an oxygen mask over her face. She's not looking at me as they wheel her bed out of the room for an emergency caesarean.

And then they are gone.

The room is so empty and quiet and I guess that's a bit like I feel inside.

It's a only a minute before a nurse comes to get me, then we are running for the operating theater, so I can get myself changed. There's so much to take in when I step through the door. Theresa is unconscious, blood transfusion going into one arm. I'm still not thinking straight and all I can hear is crying, desperate crying, like the way I feel inside. 'Congratulations,' the nurse says. 'Come and meet your baby. Do you want to hold her?'

Oh my God!

I look across to Theresa. She's still asleep but the anaesthetist is smiling. The surgeon gives a thumbs up, Elizabeth's yelling.

There's no need for them to speak.