Benny Boo!

It's been 113 days since our second baby arrived so I figured it's high time I wrote about it; thus avoiding accusations later on in life that I love Carys more because I wrote about her birth and not his, but also because the experience was totally different to both our other ones.

Zen Master At Work

Once again it was a scheduled event, we knew right from the start that Sher would be having a C-Section. The fibroids which got in the way of the first pregnancy and birth hadn't magically disappeared, thankfully they hadn't grown either. So we knew there was no way Sher would have a natural birth, it was physically impossible not to mention highly dangerous. Try telling that to the hospital staff at QMH who carried on talking about a natural birth right up until a week or two before the delivery date. Incidentally Sher really, REALLY worked hard to be calm and good natured at the antenatal appointments this time around. There was lots of deep breathing and one word answers. If you know my wife at all, you'll know her tolerance for stupidity, in-the-box thinking or plain laziness is....low. If you put her tolerance or patience for those things on a scale of 1 to 10; 1 being none at all, 10 being a Zen-like mastery of calm and control; Sher would be about about a 1 when not pregnant. When carrying a 7 pound baby inside of her, with a constant need to pee, nausea, hunger, an hour worth of travelling, 90% humidity and 30 degree heat outside, her tolerance drops substantially into the negative. In this way I'm sure she's a lot like most women when they're pregnant. It's always slightly fun to see the startled, deer in a headlights look the staff at the hospital get when she explodes because they've asked her for the 10th time whether she smokes or drinks, or when her last check-up was. I do want to reach across and gently point out the answers to their questions, found on the first page of Sher's file which is often sitting in their lap. Ask a stupid question, piss of a heavily pregnant white woman.

"Gather everyone, gather. This is a vagina."

Back to the delivery. Sher had arranged to have the c-section on a Wednesday, the 27th March. It had to be a Wednesday though, because that's the day Dr. Gosh would be at QMH. Dr. Gosh delivered Carys, he's very familiar with Sher's case and is one of the most highly experienced baby doctors in HK. To have him deliver your baby usually costs tens of thousands of dollars because he does it in the private hospitals. But every Wednesday he works in the public system training doctors and delivering babies. Sher had asked if he would be able to do the delivery again, he said he couldn't promise it but that it was very likely. We were ready this time around. I was ready to sit on my ass and wait, Sher was ready to be asked questions over and over again, I was ready to run around filling out paper work, Sher was ready to have a baby. We checked in and sure enough I was sent out to do paperwork while they settled Sher, but not before being asked if I wanted to do some skin-to-skin with Benny straight after he was born. This was a welcome change to our first time round, and I was very happy to agree to it. I ran off then returned with the  required paperwork to find Sher moving beds because where she had been placed was incredibly noisy and exposed. I was promptly ejected from the ward, much like you would throw a syphilitic sailor out of your daughter's bedroom, because I just love being in a ward full of wailing, groaning women, competing to be heard over loud TVs and even louder phone conversations in Cantonese. God forbid I should want to stay with my wife before the birth of our child. Who knows what I might do in there?! Ogle all the ladies engorged breasts perhaps? Peak under their oh so seductive hospital gowns? Dress up and pretend to be a doctor? Or maybe, just maybe I might sit quietly in a curtained off bed given to my wife and chat quietly with her in an effort to ease the HUGE anxiety we both felt. It's a cultural difference I've written about before, possibly even a gender difference; I get that some ladies just don't want men around during labour; but understanding it doesn't make me like it any more. I loathe being separated from my wife for literally hours on end while we both sit and wait for doctors to appear like the second coming of Christ, along with all his apostles.

Signage needed at QMH

I was relegated to a bench in the elevator lobby outside, right by the toilet, with all the other dads-to-be. I waited. I had lunch (Char Siu Fan - BBQ pork and rice), it was delicious. I waited more. I used the bathroom. Whatsapp'd with Sher. Waited more. It was incredibly dull, but given the last time we were there I'll take dull over tragedy or drama. Eventually Sher was wheeled into the operating theatre. I was ready to be a ball buster this time and just walk on in if I needed to. As Sher was wheeled into the delivery ward I was told "Daddy you wait here for 10 minutes then I'll come and get you". I waited my ten minutes and to my utter astonishment (disbelief perhaps even a sense of betrayal?!) the nurse didn't return to get me. The ward doors are locked so I pressed the door bell only no one answered. Eventually the same nurse was walking through the delivery ward, saw me through the door window and let me in, telling me to get dressed. I donned the surgical scrubs, put on my hair net, face mask and once again tried squeezing my size 12's into the bootie covers the hospital provides (they ripped, again). I went down the hall to the nurse's station to find no nurses. They had all disappeared, probably to deliver babies. So I stood and waited feeling like I was outside the principal's office, expecting a bollocking for trespassing and making all the women on the ward swoon with embarrassment. Eventually a nurse came along, gave me the stink eye, then told me to wait in the corridor outside the OR, so I did. I was nervous but not nearly as nervous as our first time round. I knew what to expect when I walked in, I was fairly sure of what would happen once I got in there and I knew I probably wouldn't see Benny or Sher for a few hours after delivery. I waited calmly, though slightly nervously. Eventually they called me in to the OR.

The delivery lasted much longer this time, as far as I can tell we were in the OR for nearly 2 hours. Benny wasn't being difficult, but as expected the fibroids were really in the way. We later found out there was an additional complication; a section of Sher's placenta was fused to her uterus. Had she given birth naturally her placenta would have ruptured, or possibly her uterus causing massive bleeding. Thankfully that didn't happen but the doctors needed to carefully work their way around it without causing major damage. Thankfully all went well, Benny was pulled out and started crying straight away. I was ushered out fairly soon after he was born. I hoped I would have alone time with him, for that skin-to-skin time I was told about earlier but unfortunately there weren't any rooms available so I just shuffled off and changed. I left the labour ward and returned to my lobby/toilet post, waiting for Sher to come out. She was eventually wheeled out along with Benny, they went off to the maternity ward while I grabbed Sher's bags. I joined them in the ward shortly afterwards, chatted with Sher, cuddled Benny, before being ejected once again. Thankfully the maternity ward waiting area is slightly more pleasant and comfortable. My parents came by in the evening to visit and have a cuddle before we all left Sher and Benny alone for the night. I say alone, she was surrounded by mothers and babies. Her stay was relatively uneventful this time round, extremely exhausting but uneventful. Benny and Sher stayed in the hospital for 2 days before they were released. Actually getting Sher released took over an hour because we were told we could leave just as the nurses changed shift which apparently threw things into disarray. Sher told them in no uncertain terms that we were leaving and we did!

Benny is short for Benedict, people do wonder if we named him after the Pope - we didn't. He's named after Benedict Cumberpatch, a British actor Sher fancies. She's a Cumberbitch. Benny is a happy, super chubby boy. He smiles a lot which is lovely, cries like a champ and craps an incredible amount for such a small man. He has my temperament and sensitivity, in short he's lovely. I'm so grateful I have another baby in my life, he's amazing and I'm excited to get to know him better. Welcome to the world Wee Man, you're already amazing, thanks for being part of our family.