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LET ME IN. I'M HAVING A BABY!

This is what my wife shouted through the intercom of the hospital door at 4.00am in the morning.

This was to be our first child.

The contractions had begun at about 11.00pm and within minutes I had my wife supine in the back of the car whilst I drove like a maniac through the empty streets. If we had been stopped by the police on the way for speeding, I would have just pointed to my wife writhing on the back seat and demanded a police escort.

But the first assault on the hospital had ended with a contemptuous dismissal by the obstetric nurse. "Not fully dilated. Go home and come back when the contractions are closer together." Thanks a bunch.

So back we went. For a couple of hours. Until the contractions became even more frequent and panic set in again. And off we sped, turning the streets into Monte Carlo on Grand Prix day.

We arrived to find the main entrance to the hospital locked shut whilst I practiced my wife's breathing exercises. This is when she took the initiative and answered the orderly on the intercom with the immortal words, "Let me in I'm having a baby!". It had an immediate effect. A nurse opened the door, grabbed my wife, threw her into a wheelchair, despite her objections, saying she could walk perfectly well, and off we shot at breakneck speed toward the elevator with me in the slipstream carrying the bags like a demented hotel porter.

Ten hours later our first son was born. TEN HOURS! What was all the rush about. I mean, really, I was in a such a state. Well I was the father, you know. My first baby.

So what happened in those ten hours? The Exorcist, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre and Halloween all rolled into one. I was called 'Father' so many times I was thinking of auditioning for The Bells of St. Mary's.

"Father, just hold this" - it was a shallow bowl made of brown card. One second later my wife turned towards me and threw up into it. Good start.

"Father, the head is crowning. Would you like to come round this end and have a look?" - "No thanks, I'm quite happy where I am."

"Father, would you like to cut the cord?" - "That's awfully kind of you, but you've had more practice."

Then eventually, the most amazing moment in my life. My wife gave birth to a purple alien with violet eyes.

Meanwhile, whilst I was getting acquainted with my son, my wife lay bleeding on the delivery bed.

"Father, would you like to see the placenta?" - "Err, very nice. Are they usually that color?"

Then suddenly we were alone. My wife still lay bleeding on the bed. This is where my English reserve really kicked in. Peering out into the corridor, "Excuse me, will someone be along soon to stitch up my wife. She's bleeding to death, you know. Would be so kind of you..."

Thirty minutes later someone came to finish the job.

I called our parents to break the news. Then I left my wife and child and set off home in the early morning city traffic. About 200 yards out of the hospital I broke down into uncontrollable sobbing, much to the consternation of other commuters. Back home I collapsed into my mother-in-law's arms. I think that was the one and only time I ever did that.

You know, I didn't realize until then what a traumatic and emotional experience it was for 'Father'.

And my wife? Oh, she went on to have another baby boy. We were much calmer and experienced the second time around. She even had time to make me some sandwiches before we set off casually for the hospital. So thoughtful. She sat in the FRONT seat of the car. No panics this time. No drama. Just another TEN HOURS LABOR!

I really had to eke out those sandwiches whilst I played the role of Roman Catholic priest once again.

Learn more about this author, Ray Cook.
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