Birth Of A Basketball

It was her mom (soon to be Oma) who first referred to the big bulge in our daughter Melissa's tummy as The Basketball, and the name stuck. How's The Basketball today? The Basketball's sleeping right now. The Basketball's getting huge! The Basketball just kicked me in the ribs!

The due date of January 29 came and went. Two more days go by, and then it's Friday, February 1, Melissa's birthday, and of course everyone is thinking wouldn't it be something for The Basketball to be born the same day it's mother was born, 25 years ago! It was never quite decided whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing, but it absolutely would have been something! The day certainly started auspiciously enough with Melissa's brother (Adam) receiving the happy phone call that he had finally been accepted for the engineering job he'd been hoping for and working towards for some time. Later that day her dad (yours truly) somehow managed to pass a gruelling two hour flight exam, and fulfill a lifelong dream of becoming a pilot. Already two momentous events on her birthday. Would The Basketball be number three? Well, the little monkey waited until the last minute, but sure enough, at 11:45 PM, the amnionic dam burst, and labour began.

Melissa's husband, Rowan, phoned the hospital, and was instructed to bring his wife and The Basketball in for assessment. It was minus 30 degrees, the snow banks were six feet high, and the streets were glare ice. The Basketball quite naturally refused to come out under such harsh conditions. So the contractions slowed, the cervix stopped dilating, and the expectant parents were sent home, told to get a few hours sleep (yeah, right!) and report back in the morning.

Back home, the contractions became stronger and more painful, and sleep was impossible. By the time they went back to the hospital in the morning, Melissa was in some serious pain, but had still not dilated, so she was given some sleeping pills, and a little codeine, and sent home again. At 10:00 AM Adam and Sandra (his betrothed, and as close to Melissa as any sister can be) arrive from Vancouver. At 3:00 PM I arrive and join the vigil. Poor Melissa is still sleepless, despite the pills, and although the codeine didn't diminish the pain of the contractions, it did offer some comfort in between. Below is Mom-to-be and Basketball in the relative calm between contractions, with brother Adam dutifully timing the contractions and noting them down.

By 8:00 that evening the contractions are becoming excruciating, and we all head to the hospital with food, books, laptops, and other miscellaneous supplies to take us through the last few hours of labour. But unbelievably, Melissa was still not dilated! Outside, it had warmed up slightly, to minus 20, but obviously that was still too cold for The Basketball's liking, and it was staying put. Then the debate started: should Melissa go back home to the comfort of her own bed and hopefully be able to catch a few hours sleep, or should she stay in the hospital where her condition (and The Basketball's) could be closely monitored? In the end they gave her a shot of morphine and sent her home, which was to prove a questionable decision.

It was a very long night, with poor Melissa moaning and groaning and whimpering as the contractions came and went. And although we were constantly offering her food and drink, no-one really noticed that she couldn't keep anything down, and was starting to become dehydrated. By morning the poor girl had been in labour for over 30 hours, with no sleep, and was in pretty bad shape. Something was definitely wrong. We piled her in the car and headed back to the hospital, and this time, no-one had better try to tell us take her back home.

Thankfully, they didn't. They noticed right away that she was severely dehydrated, and put her on a saline drip. And as soon as her condition was stablized, they started an Oxytocin drip, to induce the opening of her cervix. Sorry, Basketball, we know it's cold outside, but you're starting to hurt your mom, and it's time for you to come out and face the world, whether you like it or not!

For the next 8 hours, she was on and off the morphine, and on and off the Oxytocin. The Basketball's heartbeat would slow down, and then speed up. It was a very anxious time. It was taking too long. Most women suffer during labour, but this was too much. For the first time, the "C" word was mentioned. There was almost as much tension and stress in the waiting room as there was in the delivery room. It was such a helpless feeling! Shouldn't somebody be doing something!

Then, at about 9:30 PM, Rowan comes running into the waiting room to tell us that Melissa had suddenly fully dilated, and started pushing. We all felt like cheering, but of course, it wasn't over yet. The Basketball was being difficult. It was taking forever to get into the proper position. In labour now for over 45 hours with no sleep, Melissa pushed and pushed for an hour and a half, and still nothing. The doctor asked for the gynecologist to be called to prepare for a cesarean, and started reaching for the forceps. Melissa yelled, "No! I can do this!" and started pushing like a fiend, and by God, the top of the baby's head showed itself (and it didn't look anything like a basketball).

Rowan came running into the waiting room. "The head's showing! The head's showing! Everything's going to be okay!" Then he disappeared back into the delivery room. An hour later, just before midnight, he's striding/staggering back down the hall, with eyes as big as saucers, and a grin a mile wide, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Wow! That was some pretty wild stuff!".

"Well? Well?" we demanded.

"Oh, yes... it's a boy, Jordan Daniel, and he's healthy as can be, and mom's good too, but I got to tell you," and his eyes seemed to open even wider, "that was some pretty wild stuff!" Then there were hugs, and tears, and congratulations, and an overwhelming sense of relief. Rowan stayed the night with mom and babe, but when the rest of us finally stepped outside to head home, the temperature had warmed up dramatically. It was barely below freezing. That must have been it! The kid was just waiting for things to warm up a little, and who can blame him? Minus 30 is way too cold to be born. He's obviously very intelligent. Yeah, I think that kid's going to be okay.

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