For most clued-in dads these days, fatherhood begins in the delivery room. You refill your baby mama’s water glass, tell her to picture herself in her happy place, and maybe remind her to order the epidural early. The event’s far more down-and-dirty than what the last couple generations of dads experienced (for many of them, it was a waiting room game). And in the end, you’re just inches away from the big reveal.
Despite being more involved than previous waves of American dads, though, your average pops today doesn’t have it very tough when compared to how fatherhood’s been kickstarted in some cultures. “In the Huichol tribe of Mexico, the presence of the baby’s father [during labour] may be required so that a string can be tied round his testicles on which the woman can pull as each contraction mounts to a peak of pain,” says Rediscovering Birth (the image is from Art of the Huichol Indians.)
When my kid was born, I was happy not to be a Huichol Indian. Because I’m averse to physical pain (especially of that sort), yes. But also because the events of the day already had me squirming pretty good. When asked if I wanted to cut the umbilical cord, I passed. (“OK. But it’s your fault if he has an outie,” my wife told me).
And while I tried hard to concentrate on drying the little guy off while he was on the warming cart, the midwife would have none of it. “Come on over and look at the placenta,” she directed me. I tried to beg off. “It’s really cool. Come. Look.” I looked.
The placenta, for those of you who do not ever want to have to look for yourselves, is wine-dark and gelatinous and surprisingly large, like an enormous helping of borscht. I watched the midwife plop it down on a metal tray. Not the most comfortable initiation into fatherhood, but a better alternative than being on the business end of a piece of string for 12 hours.
Did you save the placenta? Did you guys eat it? I know, it’s a disgusting idea, but the more you know about it, the less repulsive it sounds…umm…maybe not. But, people do!
It’s also really great for haircare.
Both of my children were born at home. There was considerably more involvement than the normal hospital birth would have allowed me (though no string around the junk). After both births I not only saw the placenta, I handled it and packaged it up for deep freezing. Later on they got buried in the yard, which is great for the plant life.
DUDE. Just looking was enough for me. More power to the people who make nutritional use of it though, I guess. Perhaps I should have done the socially responsible thing and donated it to a food shelf.
I tried to get out of looking and the doctor verbally berated me. Not in a kind, good bedside-mannerly way either. No, if I’m not mistaken, her exact words were, “You need to get yo ass down here and look at this.”
I looked.
Look at the placenta? I took pics! A Kodak moment if ever there was.
Unfortunately I forgot to get the mid-wife to flip it over (apparently the other side is the interesting one, according to my wife’s medico family)…
Our midwife and her assistant spent about half an hour making prints of our second kid’s placenta on large sheets of paper. Serious childbirth geeks.
Clued-in dads begin fatherhood way before the delivery room I’d say… Anyway, my wife and I had two home births too: one with a midwife and the other one we just did ourselves. No delivery rooms for me and no epidurals for her. Yeah, we have several placenta prints too,and, well, I actually got to taste some - cooked - not bad, if you like liver.
Here’s some links to some rad articles on the placenta:
http://www.asac.ab.ca/BI_spring06/giftsofthethirdstage.html
http://www.asac.ab.ca/BI_winter06/giftsofthethirdstage.html
We did the placenta art thing, as mentioned by Matt above. Yes, we had midwives and a doula (great for fumbling idiot “fathers” like me). My wife took the final placenta art (called the “tree of life”), framed it, and hung it in our baby’s room. The placenta itself is in our deep-freeze next to the lasagna. We’re not hippies, I swear, but my wife is Dutch (which explains a lot).
My wife also gave birth on our bed. I actually got to get boiling water and clean towels, just like a seventies sitcom. The birthing-in-bed experience led to some permanently recurring mental images whenever I’m in the room, which doesn’t help with the love-life (which we don’t have anyway, not with three kids).
To important pieces of advice for a father-to-be wanting a better birth experience:
1) Get a doula, it gets you out of the rub-her-back-tell-her-to-breathe chore. What the hell is a doula? What’s Google/Wikipedia, dumbass? :-) Just kidding: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doula
2) Have your wife read “Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy” which has the great story, toward the end, of a wife who serviced her husband orally within hours of giving birth after the nurses took the baby for a while. That’s a trooper!
Both of our kids were born through C-Section. The first one unscheduled, after a failed labor. The second one scheduled, due to the concerns based on the first try. I got to be in the OR both times and saw and videotaped the whole thing.
Our OB, a close friends of the family, was fantastic: both times, the operation lasted less than 20 minutes (skin-to-skin), with 0 complications. So I ended up getting a VERY quick introduction to the logistics of newborn care - it was 100% me for the first couple of days.
The first time, my wife had trouble breast feeding, so I got to learn how to help her, too. You shoulda seen the look on her face the first time our baby got a hold of the nipple!!!
Anyway, it was pretty terrifying at the time, and I’m pretty sure I made every single mistake possible. Looking at it now (3 years hence) - it was pretty amusing and pretty amazing, in ohh so many different ways :-)
ps @mojoandy: yeah, the “girlfriend’s” books are pretty cool.
Hey, I feel for ya brt. My first wife had a C-section and I had to do everything afterwards - I mean everything, well, except breastfeeding. She couldn’t even lift our daughter for a couple of weeks. I swear it was the epidural that started her down the road to the OR. She had a lot of trouble breastfeeding too - I think the C-section recovery added to that.
Sure glad I didn’t repeat that scene with wife #2. Speaking of servicing - forget oral - I got the works only a week afterwards at her suggestion! But you know, the coolest thing my wife ever did for me was allow me to catch our son at this last birth we did ourselves - I don’t even know how to describe the feeling.
You know we ought to really put our hands together for these ladies that birth our kids drug-free. I’ve never seen anyone more powerful (or sexy) than my wife giving birth -I don’t think I could have done it. Every darn one of them should get a medal…