ABSTRACT
When our first child was due to be born, we hoped to have a home delivery. I went to antenatal classes and learned to help with the breathing and read a book on home deliveries that told me that I should be ready to boil some water for the midwife and the doctor, water which could also be used to make tea. In the event my wife was delivered in hospital and the breathing didn’t help much, so far as I could tell. I didn’t need to make any hot water and didn’t have much to do. I remember thinking while my wife was shouting in pain how unfair it was that I could not somehow share it with her, to halve the burden. Over ten years earlier I had taken part in many deliveries, both as a medical student and as a junior paediatrician, but I was still not prepared for the sheer brutality of the process when you are more personally involved and stay with it from beginning to end. The womb is a massive muscle that can push a baby with tremendous force through a narrow tube into the outside world. It is much more powerful than any ordinary muscle, even than the biceps that adorn the arms of strong men. Once the baby was born I felt relatively useful, as I was in better condition to go to a phone box and spread the news to family and friends. I was of course very pleased, but I did not immediately feel changed by this event. Many men who attend the birth of their children report a great feeling of elation, but I didn’t have it.
