The room was full of people. Here, I sat on the light blue bench. There was a lot of activity here, but my mind was elsewhere. I was preoccupied with tension. Trying to take my mind off, I looked at the surrounding area. There were many similar benches and the room was painted grass green. Oh, how I hated the color. I felt as though I was in a detention room, a result of disrupting my teacher’s class. But this was no detention room. And no, I had not quite done anything naughty. This place seemed to carry off an air of cleanliness. Occasionally, a few uniformed men and women were patrolling the area. I looked at the faces of those who occupied the various benches. They too seemed to wear a mask of anxiety. One by one, they were called into another room, and new individuals took their seats. Gazing at their looks got me more worried. I looked at my hands, and they were sweaty. I looked at my watch. It was 21:47. I heard cries down the corridor, raising the tensions in my mind. I covered my face with my sweaty palms, and closed my eyes in prayer. I needed to get through this ordeal. I was surrounded with many of my relatives, sitting outside an operation theatre, with my pregnant wife inside.
I started to get jumpy. I had to be inside the theatre. I paced through the corridor, waiting to meet the doctor supervising my wife’s delivery. The theatre door was white, and had tinted glasses on it. It prevented me from looking inside. As I tried to peer inside, I was startled when the door opened. I faced a man in a green uniform, complete with a green shower cap and mask. It was the doctor. “Hello,” he said with arms crossed, “can I help you, mate?” I stared back at him, and replied, “Yeah, you MUST!!” I continued, agitated, “I am the father of the unborn child my wife has been carrying since nine months. And I think I deserve to be with her in this critical moment!”
The doctor quickly apologized and called out, “NURSE! Get this man in, and hand him his scrubs.” He glanced at his watch and continued, “We better hurry.”
I stared at him and said sarcastically, “Yeah, I’d reckon that.”
My relatives bade their well wishes as a nurse rushed to my side, and led me to the washroom. There, she assisted me in wearing the green uniform, and sanitized my hands. She was talking about precautionary measures in the theatre, but I was pondering over the sight of my wife. I did not know how she would be coping with the situation. She often told me that she was ready for the baby, and anticipated its arrival. But it was easier said and done. When the nurse led me to the theatre, I was not sure if I was strong enough. As the door swung open, I saw a bright light focused on the operating table. It too was covered in green linen. There were a lot of people in green mufti surrounding the table. On the side, I saw a lot of equipment, and a tray full of scalpels and other instruments. The sight of the scalpels made me sick. I turned to the operating table. And there she was.
She was in pain. She was sweating a lot, and in tears. She was holding the cold steel railing so tight, that her dainty fingers were white and looked bloodless. Instinctively, I waded through the people, and gently touched her hand. I looked at her, but her eyes were shut. I looked at the doctor. He caught my sight, and nodded in approval. He waved two doctors off her side. I got even closer. The smell of spirit was in the air, but when I came close to her ear, I got the familiar scent of cherry blossoms. I whispered softly, “Hi honey.” She opened her swollen eyes. When she saw me, she cried even more. With one hand, I ran my fingers through her scented hair, and gently placed my other hand on her hand holding the railing. She looked through her moist eyes, and said, “Honey, I am so scared.”
“I too am scared. But we will get through this, dear,” I said, now holding her hand, “that’s why I came back for you.” She smiled for the first time, and it took some weight off my mind. But then, almost suddenly, she face distorted, and screamed out in pain.
The doctor called the shots, “Alright people, lets get it started. She is going into labor, so we better work fast. Do you get me?” All of them nodded. “And Mate?” he called out to me, “I want you to keep your wife calm. Can you do that for me?”
I stared at him for a while, and said, “Of course, I can!” I looked at her and told her softly, “Okay honey, I am with you. Hold my hand, and we will get through this.” She held my hand firmly, and nodded in pain. The nurse who helped me with my scrubs was on the other side of the table. She directed my wife, and instructed her to control her breathing. My wife seemed to calm down. When the doctor ordered my wife to ‘push’, she pushed hard. I felt her effort as she squeezed the blood out of my hand. I too winced in pain; I had not known my wife to be so strong. The nurse directed my wife’s breathing until the doctor called for another ‘push’. I held her hand firmly as she exerted herself. Then I heard the doctor say, “We have the head! PUSH!”
This time, she screamed she gave all she had. My head was close to hers as I closed my eyes in concentration. But suddenly, I heard something different. It was a soft gurgle, followed by faltering, short bursts of wailing. I opened my eyes and looked at my wife. She was exhausted, with her eyes closed. A slow smile writ across her sweaty flushed face. But the shrill screams were not coming from her. In fact, I could hear it from the doctor. I looked at the doctor questioningly. And then I corrected myself. It came from the bloodied little one in his arms. MY little one. The doctor came over with the child. “Congratulations mate, you are officially a pappy!” he said to me, with a smile of relief on his face. I thanked the doctor. Emotions were building within me, and I was speechless for the moment. The doctor looked at me for a while and said, “I think your girl is very beautiful.” I looked at my wife resting and replied, “Yeah, I love her even more right now.”
“Actually, I was talking about the pretty girl I have in my arms.”
I looked at him and looked at the child. It was a girl! My wife would simply freak out when she heard this new revelation. I carefully handled the child as the doctor placed the child in my arms. I heard the doctor say to another person in the room, “It’s a healthy girl born at 22:34.” I looked down at my bundle of joy. She was neatly wrapped in a soft towel and was moving. I was broken, and tears poured out of my eyes. I was holding my first child and it was a memorable moment. She too was crying, but slowed down to a sniffle. My eyes were slowly brimming with tears. Her eyes were barely visible, picking that feature from her mother. “Hello beautiful,” I whispered, slowly, “daddy’s here.”
I cradled my child close to my chest, fumbling with the towel she was wrapped in. The fine hair was matted on her scalp, as she smelt faintly of surgical spirit. I slowly brought my head close to hers, as she fumbled in my inexperienced arms. I felt the warmth of her as I pressed my ear to her wet head. As I closed my eyes, I could hear strange sounds she mumbled with my ear. I felt very light, and I had never felt like this before. As I traced my finger across her cheeks, I touched beauty. They were soft and pink. I lifted her tiny arm with a single finger and kissed her barely open hand. To my amazement, my baby responded by gripping my finger with her tiny hand. I was choking up. I was proud of my beautiful baby. And then, with tears streaming down my cheeks with unending flow of relief and joy, I kissed my pretty girl for the time.
I heard my wife stir. I turned to my wife and slowly placed our child by her side. She looked at me, groggy and asked me, “Well?” I looked at her through my moist eyes and smiled.
“You did fine.”
She looked at me, not getting what I was trying to tell her through thoughts. Slowly, I gestured with my eyes to look at our subdued child. When she looked at her, she gasped and burst with tears of joy. She could not stop saying OH My God! Over and over again. I watched her gently hold the baby. She sensed me staring at her. When she returned my glance, I bent forward and kissed her softly. And for once, my pretty wife ceased her tears. And she looked more radiant than before. I looked at our now sleeping child, and while caressing my tired wife’s cheeks, I simply said, “Thank you Honey.”
No comments:
Post a Comment