A Million Dreams

65 4 3
                                    

December 11th, 1:30am.

Exactly two weeks until Christmas and in our household, a long awaited arrival is well on its way. The living room is dimly lit with various different festive scented candles, the rainbow lights from the Christmas tree are vibrantly glowing through into the kitchen; and the residual of last nights Mexican takeaway has seeped its way into the air. It was Mel's grand plan to have a spicy meal to induce labour, as she was dead set against giving birth on Christmas Day. Mainly, so that our child wouldn't have to share her own birthday with Jesus Christ's. I didn't get a say in the matter, she was the one who was having to push the baby out and so, it was her choice and hers only. The room is icy cold, the midwife's recommendation was to keep the temperature as cool as possible. So, I'm layered up in a sweatshirt, fleece, jeans and thermal socks. It is already the chilliest night of the year so far. I haven't checked yet, but the weather forecast claimed a fresh sheet of snow was to grace our pavements tonight. I wouldn't dare to even steal a peek, out of fear of the icy conditions that I'm going to have to drive in when I eventually go back to work. Hopefully, by then it should be gone and we can all go back to our usual moans and groans about how freezing it is for this time of year. Typical London, the shittiest of summers and equally treacherous winters.

"Melanie, you are doing so well. The head is crowning!" Sue, the midwife, is clutching on to my wife's hand and stroking the back of her head at the same time. Mel's face is as red as a beetroot as she continues the breathing techniques that she's read about online. She is sweating profusely with tears streaming down her cheeks.

I feel beyond useless pacing up and down our kitchen, muttering here and there if I can do anything. The sight in front of me is still bizarre, ever since Mel made it crystal clear that she wanted a home birth, I have struggled to wrack my brain around the idea. I would feel more comfortable in a hospital where there are plenty of professionals on hand to help. The loudest shriek comes out of her mouth as she relentlessly shifts herself back and forth, clearly in an immense amount of excruciating pain. Seeing the woman you love like that and being powerless to stop it is the most craziest thing. I'm struggling to comprehend that at any given moment I am about to become someone's dad. A little person is going to rely on me to take care of them. Most days I can barely look after myself, let alone a defenceless human being. This is all getting too real, I'm shit scared. I have no idea why Melanie decided to go ahead with the pregnancy and have a baby with someone like me, but here we are. Nine months and an impromptu, hasty wedding later and my wife is here lying in our kitchen, in a birthing pool ready to become the mother of my child. To top it all off, Mel went on a long ass tangent on how much she wanted the soundtrack to The Greatest Showman playing on the iPod as she gave birth. So, for the last six and a half hours, I have had to listen to this blasted musical on repeat. If this goes on for any longer, I'm afraid that the iPod will find its way out the window, smashed on the walkway. Zac Efron should have quit his career after High School Musical, that voice. He hits notes only dogs can hear.

"Come on, you are almost there, honey. One more push, come on!" Sue urges Mel, gripping both her knees. Endless droplets of sweat cascade down my forehead, and to my neck as I crouch down in front of the birthing pool. Just as I do, the baby comes rushing out into the water. "Well done, petal!" Sue exclaims, immediately lifting the baby out of the water. She neglects to ask if I would like to cut the cord and promptly does so herself, immediately placing our newborn onto Melanie's chest.

"It's a girl!" Sue announces with a gleaming smile. We decided on keeping the gender a surprise, a decision that disappointed a lot of our friends, but one we were happy with. We found that it was more exciting that way.

For a split second I am paralyzed, unable to move or speak. My eyes are fully fixated on the bundle nestled into my wife's neck. This sharp, indescribable feeling washes over my heart. A soft cry coming from her lips, two big brown unassuming eyes glancing around the room, suddenly landing on mine. I have never felt like this before in my life, an unconditional love that is completely unwavering. A little person who is counting on me for the next eighteen plus years.

Take Care of YouWhere stories live. Discover now