24 hours old

Hannah is now a little over 24 hours old and taking a nap.

Everything "started" on Saturday about 6pm when the contractions started. By 4am they were every 4-5 mins and we were advised to go to the hospital; once there we spent about 12 hours waiting for things to "progress" but they didn't, so we went home 1.5cm dilated around 4pm Sunday. Same frequency and strength of contractions, and our childbirth class teacher advised us that really we needed much more pain and that the current contractions could even disappear and restart several days later. But then at home a few hours later, around 11pm, the pain began to increase. Over the next 2 hours, Andrea was exactly like the videos and diagrams from the class. Somewhat strangely we got out the book with the diagrams and mulled over what "position" was best for her to cope with the pain. In the end the beanbags were fantastic for kneeling on next to (and leaning on) the bed.

When we left the hospital they encouraged us to wait until the water broke until we came in. So we weren't sure if the pain (that was pretty damn intense from what I could tell) was enough or not. Anyway by 1am we figured this is real labour, the so-called "early first-stage" was over and we were in "first-stage". So for the second time in 24 hours we left the house, bags in hand, and ventured into the street to get a taxi. This time though it took 15 mins to get to the main road, instead of 5 the first time, with Andrea stopping every 3 mins for 90 seconds.

Once we got to the hospital things had not changed, which was a relief. A day earlier, everytime the nurse came to check the contractions, they seemed to get stagefright and hide. In lots of pain--and now 4cm dilated--Andrea was quick to ask for medication (known as an epidural) which was duly administered about 20 mins later. And then it all became rather surreal. According to the machine, the contractions were strong, frequent and lasting ages. According to Andrea, there was not much happening, so effective was the epidural. So we relaxed and napped (Andrea included). Every few hours the midwife came to check, and boy things were slow. It took from around 2am until 11am before the magical 10cm was reached. 9 hours of no pain, just talking and sleeping and consideration of what might happen soon. So much for the excitement of labor. This was so dull, i was working on my laptop when i couldn't sleep. It really was surreal. Talk about the calm before the storm!!

Then around 11 or 12 it was time to try to push, but still it was pretty slow and fairly painless stuff. By 12.30 it began heating up, the midwifes began setting things up, about 5 people now were in the room sorting various things' the bed was pulled apart to allow the midwife to get closer up, the legs were spread and some major pushing began. I was alongside, feeling useless with a camera just like a tourist! Never mind, i think the calls of "i can see the head" helped. On the other hand, that first call was when the head was still 2-3 cm inside Andrea and may have given her a false sense of something urgent happening. But it was exciting. Finally! 9+ months; 36 hours since we first came to the hospital; and over the next 45 mins, a push or two every minute or two led to the head finally getting closer and closer; Andrea finally began feeling some pain again (thought he drugs were still minimizing it), and then, in the space of 5 minutes from seeing the tip of the head, I was able to see the entire top of the head. And at that time it actually looked like a head, until then it really could have been anything! Of course, as some people know, babies heads are cone shaped to help them fit though, and then they become more rounded afterwards.

As the buzz around us increased, as did the sweat on Andrea's forehead and the number of empty cups of water surrounding her, Andrea began to wonder if anything was going to happen. I think the encouraging remarks from me and midwife had implied the baby should have been out by now! But then the midwife said quite authoritatively "3 more pushes" and it was about 3 more pushes for the whole top of the head to get though, and then in under a second the rest of the head followed, the umbilical cord was unwrapped from around the neck and in less than another second the entire rest of the body was out. And the baby was in Andrea's arms for about 30 seconds. My camera was clicking. Hard to explain what one feels. Certainly not just one feeling. A mixture of almost everything: fear, excitement, relief, love... who knows. But at the same time it was not so overwhelming.

Very quickly the baby was taken to the table next to the bed, cleaned, measured, checked and all sorts; it was crying, of course; and it was tiny. Insanely tiny. Though everything is relative I suppose. Still big compared to Andrea's tummy! And as professional as could be, just like clockwork things moved fast; baby went back to Andrea; Andrea was sorted out down below; I held baby, baby was weighed, baby was washed, baby was clothed and soon the baby was put in Andrea's arms and her bed was pushed out the delivery room (as someone else needed to use it) to another room whilst i scampered behind with all our bags and clothes in my arms.

Somewhere in amongst all the craziness, Andrea and I may have actually spoken to each other! Now 24 hours later, after a funny procession of nurses and things to come and check up on Andrea and the baby, show us how to bathe the baby, change the nappy (ooh... tricky!), give us some meals, provide discounts and gifts and clothes for the baby, clean the sheets, help check Andrea some more, we are in quiet in the room, with Hannah sleeping. Last night was not that exciting. Breast feeding has been going pretty well so far; sleeping seems to be fine and quite common; crying fairly rare; a series of Firsts has started (the first poop was around age 16 hours); and a birth certificate has arrived.

It still is surreal. A real, life, human being, in my arms, or besides me. Something that will need Andrea and I, something we need to care for, something that will cause grief and provoke love, something that will change everything. Just like that. Of course, things right now are peaceful and life still goes on... I'm taking calls from work, Andrea's sorting out her work from her laptop; a lot of wonderful "comments" and "likes" have flooded in from friends far away through the web, along with SMS from those closer to home (and the odd phone call). And now we have a few weeks, where we'll try not to work too much, try to adjust and try to work out what this really, actually means. Once we get back from the hospital, on thursday, it might seem more real. All the baby stuff will now actually have a baby in it!