The Day My Son Came

24 years and 2 days ago, my son, Ethan entered the world clearly as he intended to live it. With a bang!

At the time of his birth, I was on a work trip with my husband in New Plymouth which was cleared by the midwife. Baby showed no signs of coming and due to how small the ‘bump’ was everyone just assumed our dates were out. It was December 1997 when computers were really big and it was Adam’s job to travel the country teaching people how to use them.

On this trip, Adam had booked 10 trainees and so the car was packed. When we arrived, we had found a nice hotel and the weather was great. The next day Adam went off to work and I spent the day feeling particularly serene deciding to wander shops in preparation for Christmas. That night my back started to hurt and by morning we realized this must have been labor.

Not knowing what to do I called the New Plymouth Hospital but was received by a grumpy midwife at the other end telling us off for being so far away from home this close to a due date. After talking to my own midwife on the phone, in an exasperated state of mind, my husband and I decided the best thing to do was try to make it back. After all, first labors take ages so figured we had plenty of time.

My friend Gemma with a Pajero four-wheel drive was commissioned to immediately leave Wellington. She had a mattress in the back to meet us which would provide a comfortable laboring station until we got to base.. what could go wrong?

With all ten computers stuffed in the car, my seat was jammed up towards the dash as far as it could possibly go. There wasn’t a lot of room for a squirming pregnant lady in labor. Luckily the contractions when we left were still 10 minutes apart. However, as we drove away, the contractions started getting closer and closer. It seemed on this trip there were more road works than usual that required us to stop continuously. Road workers peered curiously into a stuffed car filled with giant computer monitors and screens with a woman now climbing the windows.

Eventually, we stopped at one of those famous kiwi-style dairies in Patea now desperate for a drink. Adam ran in and broke up the slow country chit-chat amongst locals to get served explaining his wife was in labor.

Meanwhile, grabbing the opportunity to stretch and breath outside I hid behind the car clutching the door as more labor pains came in full force. Coming out of another contraction, I looked up to find the dairy locals all peering around the bonnet to watch!

After being well-wished goodbye, we got in the car and took off at full speed but the further we got the fewer chances we knew we had of making it to Wellington. My best friend was a nursing supervisor at The Wellington Hospital who we kept in constant touch along the way.

As contractions got up to 1 minute apart, Abi made the call for us to stop in Wanganui, the last main hospital before Wellington. As we pulled into the emergency car park outside the hospital, It felt like I was in so much pain and that if I died in the car I wouldn’t be surprised. This is what dying felt like, I was sure of it. We had no idea where the maternity ward was or what to do. I looked up at the building thinking it would take Rob ages to find help and I was too scared for him to leave but instead, he jumped out of the car as fast as he could, and amazingly in what seemed like 2 seconds, there was an entire medical team hauling me away. Laughing at how ridiculous our endeavor to make Wellington was, they assured us we were safe and that everything was going to be ok.

An Australian midwife had just arrived in New Zealand to practice freely a job she was incredibly passionate about. Apparently, there were all sorts of political medical problems in Australia that she had run away from. New Zealand gave her the opportunity to practice the way she knew it should be done. Today was her first day and she was placed in charge of my care. Her shift ended but when I pleaded for her to stay she did and I think she needed to see this baby born as much as I did because she cried at the end.

E. P. Z M (not then named) arrived at 6pm on Thursday evening, December 18th, 1997. Giving birth and meeting your baby really is the most incredible feeling in the world. A feeling I certainly was not at all prepared for. I had been so uncertain and when he was first put into my arms I was too exhausted to feel any kind of emotion. Everyone was asking me what I thought of the baby but honestly? I just remember looking at him not knowing what to feel. I was numb.

Soon after everyone left the room, Baby started to cry a little. I called out for the nurse to tell her he was upset. It hadn’t deeply occurred to me the new responsibility included attending to the cries of a child. Once realizing no one was coming, I got up and walked over to him restless in his crib. Nervously, I reached out to touch the blanket, feeling his warm little body beneath it, and then suddenly, he stopped…just like that. Like magic. He knew me, my touch. Right then, I realized he was mine. All mine. Not the nurses. He didn’t belong to the midwife, he belonged to me!

I pulled back the covers to look at… my baby, I saw how incredibly beautiful he was. His eyes. His perfect little nose, mouth, fingers, toes. An intense new feeling, much like the one I experienced the day I met The Holy Spirit, overwhelmed me, flooding my heart. At that moment 24 years and 2 days ago today, holding a baby boy in my arms, for the first time in my life, I fell in love.