Room with a View (IVF Birth)

January 14, 2019


Apparently, after their water’s broken, all the expectant Newport Beach mums and dads continue the H20 theme and gun for an ocean view room at HOAG Hospital. And some get quite agro if they don’t get one. We were just stoked to get a room, even if the view was of another room. And wasn’t the room we were in outstanding! Goodness me!


Although the nurses had their serious faces on (presumably because of Vorny’s high blood pressure), I was giddy with the amount of room in the room, the abundance of fruit, the huge waiting room nearby with a massive big screen TV and the enormously roomy cafeteria downstairs with untold selections of food items and WiFi. 


But I had to leave these materialistic distractions and focus on the distraction at hand. So I went back into our room view room and held Vorny’s hand and told her about the the huge waiting room nearby and the enormous cafeteria downstairs. She gripped my hand like a pretty python and politely informed me she was about to be induced - the labour was officially starting. 


As the nurses administered the drugs, I started pacing up and down my side of the room, but with all the nurses fussing around Vorny, I could now only walk 2 paces and I was at the end of my side of the room. I was getting anxious. Luckily Vorny was super calm. She really is a calm person. And she makes me calmer seeing her calm. She’s a calming influence on everybody actually. I think that’s why good things come to her. Calmer (karma).


An epidural was administered by a flamboyant gentleman who waltzed into the room like an Asian Super Hero. He carefully threaded a needle down Vorny’s back and BAM he was outta there?! Vanished like a fart in the wind. When it came time for Vorny to start pushing, I had to call on all my rugby prowess (absolutely none) and start offloading motivational sound-bytes like, “DRIVE IT! DRIVE IT! PUSH!” Instead of helping Vorny, I accidentally made her giggle. The nurses looked at me like I was a drop-kick from down the way, so I changed my chant to “GO DARL! GO!” And By Joves she did. What a legend! Vorny pushed and pushed and I’ve never seen her look so beautiful. 


In the latter stages, Clint Eastwood our 83 year old doctor, waltzed in like a cowboy at sunrise. The air changed. You could hear a pin drop. And then a baby. And it was epic. And as Clint swaggered back out of the room, the sound of pins dropping was replaced by the dulcet and harmonious tones of our new baby girl crying, “I’M HERE GUYS! I’M HERE! TURN THE LIGHT OFF! IT’S HURTING MY FLIPPIN' EYES!” 


My body went into shock.


I think it’s just the kind of jolt I’ve been looking for - some serious smelling salts. I don’t know whether there’s many moments in one’s life where your body enters a state of joyful paralysis, but this was definitely one to savour. A protective instinct kicked in like I’ve never felt before and as I cut the umbilical chord, I cut a silent deal with my daughter that I will do everything I can to make sure she gets the best of me.  


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