Hey party people oaf12 here and welcome to The Man Den!
You are in for a treat today!! Below is a guest blog from my fellow Suburban Gooner, Ben Leeder. Ben is here to talk about child birth, from the point of view of a man. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, hopefully we can get Ben to write a few more blogs in the coming months on some slightly less gory topics 
Over to Ben
Cheers all
oaf out
Hi, hope you’re well.
I thought I’d try and put the biggest experience in my life, into words. Wish me luck.
I suppose, I should start by introducing myself. My name is Ben, I’m 27 and I’ve been married to my wife for a year and a half now. I’ll save that story for a different day. We’ve always spoke about having a child (Children) and decided to go for it after our wedding day. It’s a strange moment to look at you wife, partner and say. “I’m ready to have a baby”. Emotionally from that moment, you know things will never be the same again.
I came home from work to find my wife upstairs in the toilet with a pregnancy test. Not very glamorous…I digress.
“IM PREGNANT BENNY!”
Joy, complete ecstasy -
Fast forward nine months…
The night before the arrival, my wife went for reflexology – If you don’t know what it is, it’s basically pressure points on your feet, massage and relaxation. She says to this day, “It’s the reflexology that did it!” I’m slightly dubious…
Let the story begin;
1am: My wife nudges me, “Benny, I’ve got pains”. Being half asleep it didn’t dawn on me what was actually happening. I think I said something stupid like go to the toilet and come back to bed. She went and returned a few minutes later and said “I’m not feeling too good”. She got back into bed and I cuddled her. I felt her hands and she put her feet on my leg and they were bitterly cold – From that point I couldn’t sleep, the reality of what was happening hit me. A sense of the unknown hit me. A responsibility that I’ve nevertheless let before – I knew I have two people too look after. She drifted off and I lay staring at the ceiling waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. As you can imagine, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.
7:30am: I’ll fast forward a little, just too save you hearing about me staring into the parental abyss. She didn’t really sleep throughout the night. Which was quite difficult to take, sounds silly but I just ‘felt’ something was happening and she needed to charge her batteries. She got up and went to the toilet again and came running back, I say run, more of a speedy limp – “I think my waters have broken”. Yet did we know, that was the start of a huge journey.
8:00am: We went downstairs and she started having ‘mini contractions’. I panicked, not embarrassed to say, but I thought it was happening (Yes, I had read books and thought I was prepared. How wrong was I?). I asked her if she wanted me to ring the hospital – She said no. She started doing laps of the front room – Our Front-room and dining room has been knocked through. Perfect for laps.
9:30am: After a good hour of walking around and taking pit stops on ‘large things’ she could lean on. She asked me to ring the Hospital. I got put through to a lady who seemed very bored with her job. She asked how far apart her contractions where. I gave a rough time that I was trying to time on my phone. She didn’t seem too impressed and asked if she could speak to her. She asked my wife for some details in her ‘Green Folder’. Which I had to scrabble around her bag to find. I could hear the lady on the phone tutting in disgust at the delay. She asked us to come in just for some precautionary checks.
10:30am: We arrived at the hospital and I had my car park money ready (a shed load of pound coins). I already had all the overnight bags she needed in the car. I thought, at least be prepared for the things I can. Just our luck, the lift was briefly out of order and we had to walk up 3 flights of stairs. Eventually reaching our floor – We were met by two massive double doors. I rang the buzzer, and with my hands full. A young lady stuck her head out of the reception window and said “Come in”. She led us to a waiting room, with all the equipment needed for birth. A lot of it looked like it was used for the birth of an Alien. Very Doctor Who esque. Two young girls knocked and entered the room. One a very nervous student. They got my wife onto the bed, and did some checks. I won’t go into the gory details. I’ll save that for later. Sounds silly, but what made me feel at ease was the shaky hands of the midwifery student. She had to measure my wife’s stomach and feel the baby and what position he was in. She was so worried but very precise about something that seemed so pointless in the grand scheme of things. This strangely put me at ease.
They had to go and check her weight. They took her to a smaller room at the end of the corridor. With me ending up being left alone. When I get nervous, I think and worry. I was only left for 5-10 minutes but it seemed so much longer. I initially sat and looked around but that lead to me pacing around the room. To distract myself I setup a text group and sent out the news. I got an instant phone call from my mum asking about what was happening. I didn’t really have anything to say expect I’d being left and was waiting to find out what was going on myself.
When they returned. The midwife gave us some glum news, at the time was awful. She was sending us home *Insert dramatic music* my wife looked very upset. The midwife said come back when the contractions are stronger and closer together. Back in the car and back home we went.
12:00pm: Back at the palace, the laps of the front room continued. Luckily for me it was Saturday and I could have the football on in the back ground. Arsenal (my team) was on the box.
1:00pm her contractions where getting stronger but still too far apart. It was strange and the only word I could use to describe the feeling was upsetting, to see her in pain and say she had to wait (a lot longer) was difficult. I suggested a bath (I’d read that). Which she seemed happy with (she likes a bath). I had to help her get undressed. I helped her into the bath, put some music on and was sent away. I sat downstairs staring at the TV. The first and only Arsenal game I wasn’t interested in.
Around half an hour later I heard a cry for assistance. “I want to get out, help me out”. Tried to gently lift her out (which wasn’t easy). After getting her dressed and putting maternity socks on, which is an utter nightmare, the only way I can describe it is putting jeans on after you’ve been swimming. It isn’t happening.
I’ll fast forward some hours. To fill the time, think lots of laps and lots of back rubbing…
7:45pm: Leanne grabs my arm. “Ring the hospital” I just stare at her for a few seconds (which seems like an eternity), she’s a tough women, for her to seem worried frightened me. I rang the hospital; this time got a much nicer lady. She asked the same questions again regarding contractions. Length and timings etc. She said “Have you tried a bath?” I relayed the message. To be polite, it didn’t get the best response. The midwife on the phone said try a bath and then come in. The response, sod that. We’re going in!! Back in the car and down to the hospital.
8:00pm: We arrive at the hospital. Fifteen minutes I hear you ask. Yes, some very fast driving as you can imagine. As before, no lift. So I help her up the stairs with all the bags. We’re offered a choice of rooms by a young lady. A room with a hot tube looking bath and what looked like a disco. As usual, I made an awkward joke and got the grimace from both ladies.
My wife decided she liked the look of the room (I don’t know how, she could barely stand at this point). The midwife asked her to get on the table and remove her trousers; she was given a tracing paper robe to cover herself. (Wasn’t tracing paper, looked closer to grease proof paper you get when you order a burger). After some initial inspections and checks she said she was hardly dilated and she’d come back in three hours. To check her again. As she left the room and the door closed behind her. We both looked at each other “Three hours”!
She returned three hours later, same checks. “Sorry, you’ve only dilated an inch. I’ll be back in three hours to check again”. *palm to face*
Again, another three hours pass. It’s around 2-3am in the morning. But by this time the pain is simply unbearable. My wife asked for some more painkillers, she’d already had the strongest she could. The midwife offered an epidural – Her instant response, was yes. The midwife said she’d need to go and find the (surgeon) to administer it. Being so early in the morning, only one was available. So, as you can imagine, we had to wait.
And wait.
When he finally appeared, he had what seemed like a briefcase. Like he’d been ordered to do a ‘job’. He pulled out a huge needle which looks around half the size of an average back. He inserted it into the base of her spin with some considerable force
*PAUSE* I don’t do needles at all. So to try and support her and not look at the needle was very difficult. *CONTINUE*
After the final check-ups, the midwife said she will be back for the…You guessed it…
all together now.
The three hour check-up.
The midwife came back into the room an hour or so later to inform us her shift was over and to introduce us to the next midwife. She seemed like a nice lady – Especially considering she had a food menu – It was the lunch menu. The Trouble and Strife went for a Jacket, cheese and beans and Chocolate sponge and custard (this isn’t irrelevant, comes into play a little later)
Throughout the night I was texting family to keep them updated. Around 11am Leanne’s mother, Carole rang and asked how was it going etc. etc. and asked if she could come in? I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. (Beyond tired, emotionally all over the place). My wife seemed very keen for her to come in. Her eyes screamed please. She was so tired it was very upsetting. I agreed. Fast forward 20 minutes, she arrived. My wife burst into tears. A beautiful moment – The stress of the night, the emotions just all came out.
Lunch appears! She took one look at it, “No”. Mine and Carole’s eyes lit up. She called the chocolate sponge and I had the jacket. We still joke it, a running family joke. “Are you going to eat that!!”
3:00pm: The midwife comes and does her checks. Expecting another demoralising result. But our lives would never be the same again. MW “You won’t believe this but you’re fully dilated”. A strange moment of reality hit us both. We just held hands and said nothing at all. The midwife asked my wife to start pushing. I went down the action end, I won’t go into too much detail, you can use your own imaginations. I’m known for being a fainter, I don’t do blood so you can imagine, a big moment for me personally.
So the action begun – My wife had to push when she felt a contraction which was difficult because she had an epidural. After an initial 20minutes, which was really intense. The midwife called a surgeon who said another 20mins with no success and the baby doesn’t come soon; you’ll have to have a C-section. It was the first time I really panicked and feared for her and the baby. From here on in, it was a whirlwind. 3:45pm arrived so quickly. She was shattered and we received the news, theatre was the only option.
Before we had time to digest the information. The sides of the bed where up and 4-5 nurses were wheeling her off. A lady grabbed me and gave me a set of scrubs (seemed like XXXL). I quickly put them on and she took me to the Theatre. It’s was only a small room I expected something a lot different. There was an anaesthetist, a surgeon and 4-5 Nurses. One of the nurses told me to sit on the stool next to the bed. We held hands. I became a little teary. I didn’t want Leanne to see me especially when she needed me the most. We held hands in silence, I stared round the room. ‘Equipment’, bright lights was all I could really see (and remember). The surgeon explained she would have three attempts with forceps.
My wife’s legs were placed into in stirrups. It seemed to scare her (obviously it would). The doctor had two initial attempts with no avail. I stared at her and watched them nervously discuss whether to have another go. They quickly agreed they would.
With an almighty tug dawned the birth of George Ben Leeder. He was whisked to a separate room. He was screaming. This upset me. My wife was oblivious. He returned a few moments later. The nurse put him in my arms. (I was very teary). He didn’t open his eyes at first but held my finger. I sat on ‘that stool’ and just stared at him. I removed his hat and his head was covered in blood. A lot. I panicked, jumped up “he’s bleeding”. A nurse took him from me and whisked him off to the room again. They had cut his head with the forceps. He was brought back, with a plaster on. We sat and cuddled.
4:10pm; Sunday will never be forgotten. The stress, the panic was forgotten (for a little while anyway).
We were taken to the waiting room. I called my mum, she answered and I couldn’t initially say anything, I choked up. She said “Hello?…what’s the news?” (I had a very only fools and horses moment) “I’ve got a baby mum”. You can imagine what happened next. *Insert tears*
I have to say how proud of my wife (and women) I am, the whole experience cannot be prepared for. The amount of stress and pressure mentally and physically is out of this world. You read books and hear stories about how things ‘could’ go, but I’ve since learnt. Everyone’s journey, story (whatever you prefer) is different and it’s a story you will never forget.
My wife, I love you and thank you for the greatest gift in the world, George, my son…
Cheers for reading,
Be happy,
Ben
X
