Happy Birthday ...
There was an urgency in her voice and the pain got sharper, the contractions closer together ... so much quicker than with the birth of their son. It seemed as if she was having one long contraction. He got her into the hospital and they were quickly booked in. He helped her to the their maternity suite and then ran back down to park the car that he'd abandoned by the entrance.
When he got back up a doctor and three midwives were in the room. Their tones hushed and looks of concern had darkened the energy in the room. A contrast to the energy that should exist in a place that sees new life. Her pain was sharper now, really intense. She was having trouble breathing. A midwife had checked on the unborn child and reported irregularities and reported that the umbilical chord was twisted around the baby's neck. The mother-to-be couldn't push the baby out yet, the act would suffocate the baby.
The pain intensified, she started to drift away. He watched the light start to fade in here eyes. The doctor and midwives seemed to be panicking and unclear on the course of action. The one midwife that was working on freeing the chord from about the baby's neck, looked up and said. 'It's free now. She can start pushing. We need to get the baby out quickly. If she's too tired we'll have to go for a caesarean birth'
He watched her slipping further away. It seemed that the noise and panic being created by the doctor and other midwives was unprofessional and didn't belong here. He looked at them, 'Get out of this room, now!' They looked at him, stunned into silence. 'Move it!' The remaining midwife looked at him questioningly. 'Stay and help please,' was all he said to her. She nodded and said, 'She's dangerously tired, we may need to do something soon or you'll lose them both.'
He looked at her calmly, 'I understand', was all he said and she resumed her checks on the woman and the baby.
He knelt by the mother-to-be and looked deep into her eyes. She seemed to remember him through the pain and whispered, 'It hurts so much. I'm so tired. I just want to sleep.'
He took her hand and spoke gently but firmly to her, 'Listen to me, I know you're tired but I need you to focus. I need you to come back to me and take some of my energy. Keep listening to my voice. I'm right here with you and I'm sending you my energy. You need to fight now.'
'I can't, I'm so tired.' She started to close her eyes.
'Wake up' He made eye contact with her again and held to her life force and felt some of his energy flowing into her. Her eyes opened. 'That's it', he said, 'I'm right here, feel my energy, take it, use it. You're not giving up. Fight. It's time to push the baby out. You need to start now or the baby will die.' She looked back into his eyes and he saw her come back. As tired as she was, she came back and fought for the unborn life inside her. A few minutes later Laila Kesia was born and her father cut the chord between baby and mother. That day was the 21st of January 1997.
So ended the longest hour of his life. He let mother and baby rest at the hospital that night, picked up his son and half the street probably heard Eric Clapton blaring out of the house that afternoon.