Fathers in the Delivery Room

There was a day when the waiting room of a maternity ward was filled with fathers waiting for a doctor to let them know that their baby had been safely delivered into this world at which point they celebrated with each other by lighting up cigars.

Fatherhood has changed drastically and most fathers want to be involved in all aspects of parenting. Labour and delivery is probably where they feel the least involved and almost helpless.

While there is no doubt that mothers have the hardest job when it comes to labour there are ways that a father can play a supportive role.

When I was in labour my husband definitely found ways to try and make the whole process easier.

He drove like a race car driver to the hospital:

With my first child I didn’t realize that I would actually have 26 hours until my son would make his grand entrance to the world so when my water broke and my husband was still a two hour commute away. I decided to hop in the car and make it there myself. Probably wasn’t the best idea I ever had. When my water broke the second time around and my contractions started in fast and furious my husband handled that road to the hospital like a pro. He did start to worry that maybe he might have to deliver the baby in the car on the side of the road but he managed to get me there in record time and safely while timing my contractions.

He caught my vomit:

The poor guy has never been the best with vomit. Sometimes throwing out the stuff that’s been at the back of the fridge too long makes him gag. Yet when my nerves started to get the best of me and the nurse shoved a little metal pan in his hands, he held it there right under my chin. When I threw up in between pushes he quickly ran the pan over to the bathroom to wash it out without throwing up himself.

He helped me count:

The first time I was in labour instead of counting while I pushed my husband stared at me. Okay it was more like he was copying my push face as I mentally willed him to count for me because in my state of panic I wasn’t able to remember what came after three. After a little ribbing he was well prepared the second time around and held my hand while he loudly counted one…two…three. The strength of his voice gave me something to focus on and got me through each push. It only took three good ones before she was in my arms.

He stole:

When I asked the nurse for a couple of those heavy duty pads they give you after you’ve delivered your bay to bring home with me she shook her head no. I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to buy anything even close to that at the drugstore and I began to worry when my husband disappeared. A few minutes later he reappeared with a handful of those heavy duty pads stuffed under his sweatshirt. I don’t know where he got them but in that moment I knew that I had chosen the right man as my husband.

He was my cheerleader:

As they were prepping to give me the epidural I whispered in his ear “I’m scared” I said quietly. He looked me right in the eye and said, “I know you are but you can do this” He continued throughout the whole labour; understanding that I was scared and telling me how proud he was of me. When I felt like giving up he pushed me and made sure that I knew I was strong enough to do this. It was scary and I was happy to have someone by my side that I could admit my fear to.

My husband has always wanted to be a father. From the moment we found out we were going to be parents he wanted to be a part of everything.

When I was pregnant and during labour he felt pretty helpless but he always found a way to make it just a little bit easier for me.