Watching your partner give birth is a life-changing moment. But what if you help deliver your baby? BBC Weather presenter Simon King shares his experience of bringing daughter Nell into the world.
Everyone told us the second birth would be quicker. But we went from nothing to giving birth within 15 minutes. It was so quick there wasn’t a chance for me to think ‘I can’t do this, I can’t deliver my baby’. I just had to get on with it.
Our son Noah’s labour was long, drawn-out and painful too; it took over 12 hours from the start of my wife Emma’s contractions and she had plenty of gas and air. My involvement was limited to holding her hand, nothing else. We presumed our new baby’s birth would be similar.
The bag was packed; we were expecting to go to hospital and have what you consider a ‘normal’ birth, whatever that is.
We knew we were having a girl; she was coming up for a week late and we did all the things they tell you will kickstart labour, like eating curry. It was a Friday night, we’d been for a curry and went to bed as normal. But around 2:00 am, my wife Emma woke me up to tell me her waters had broken. Not dramatically though, it was more of a trickle. She started feeling some contractions soon afterwards but we didn’t rush to do anything. Going by Noah’s birth, we thought our daughter would be born in the afternoon. I tried to get back to sleep but I was half-awake and aware that Emma was pottering around.
Sudden urgency
By 4:30 am, Emma was still feeling fine and we decided that there wasn’t much point going to the hospital or even phoning them, because they’d tell us to come back later. Our plan was that Emma’s parents would come over from north Wales to look after Noah, but we waited an hour before we rang them as it was so early.
Then from the contractions being mild and us chatting away calmly, things suddenly became more urgent.
Emma said she needed to go to hospital. The first thing I did was call our friend who is 10 minutes down the road to come round and mind Noah.
But there was no time to get to the hospital. Within minutes, Emma told she needed to push. I said: ‘What?! You can’t start pushing, not now.’ I was in denial at first. But I then grabbed some towels called 999 in a bit of a whirl. The operator was very calm and told me to have a look and see what was happening. Already, I’m thinking: this is way more involved than I was expecting.
Huge relief
I put the phone on loudspeaker, and had a look. I could see the head. The realisation dawned that the paramedics weren’t going to be here fast enough: I would have to deliver our little girl. I didn’t have time to panic. The operator went through a checklist of what I needed to do.
And within seconds of the operator saying ‘you need to support the baby when she comes out’, she was born in my arms, thankfully breathing and crying.
The operator was still on the phone and told me to hand the baby to Emma for skin-to-skin contact, but that was kind of physically difficult. Mentally, I couldn’t work out how Emma could turn around while I was holding the baby. That was the point I kind of panicked, probably because of the enormity of what had just happened.
Eventually we got her onto the bed and I handed the baby to her, wrapped up in the towels. Our friend arrived to take care of Noah, I answered the door saying, ‘She’s born already!’, and apparently I was as white as a sheet. Not surprising really – I was in total shock. Then the paramedics arrived. They asked if I wanted to cut the cord and I said: ‘It’s fine, I think I’ve done enough.’ I think I did it, but it’s such a blur, I’m not completely sure!
Our special bond
Emma and our tiny daughter (she weighed 8lb 11oz) spent a night in hospital. We decided on her name, Nell, a day or so after she was born. When I returned to work, BBC 5Live had managed to get hold of my 999 call and broadcast it live; listening back was so strange. One thing I regret is not thanking the operator, I was just so overwhelmed, I forgot. They stayed on the line until the paramedics arrived, but I was too stunned to make small talk.
Every birth is different, but Nell’s especially so. It was the most amazing but terrifying experience. There would naturally be a special father-daughter bond between us, but even more so because I was the first person to see and hold her!
Nell knows about her special birth; when we first told her she found it fascinating.
Now she finds it funny that she was born in the house and likes to remind her brother of that fact… like it’s some sort of badge of honour or something!
Any advice for other partners that find themselves in my situation? That’s hard as every birth is different. All I would say is you’ve just got to get on with it. Support your partner, listen to the 999 operator, get some towels. And don’t forget to thank the operator.
