Whoever dubbed New York, New York "the city that never sleeps" should visit the maternity ward. My recent visit included a drop-in on several screenings of "A Star Is Born" at the end of the show theater, near Mama's Breast (all night milk bar) and Papa's Gas Station ( "We burp you on your way." ).
To a chorus of screaming child, I drafted this column to 1.00 clock Of course, it was 3:00 Clock in Tokyo, so I think it was not so late.
Thewhole experience of birth seems to be a very traumatic way to build a family. Fortunately, there were two very happy results. It gave me a new daughter, Lauralee, the little sister. And it has taught me some valuable lessons that it is my patriotic duty to share with you.
The first lesson - all men, take note - is that my wife is my hero.
When the man, I witnessed the whole birth outbreak at second hand. After careful observation showed thatthis is the best way to experience it. (Apparently I had some first hand experience over 40 years ago, but I can not remember too many details.)
Most men suffer great humiliation during birth. Women throw razor sharp insults like "I hate you!" and "You fink!" and "You told me that!" and "I hate you!" My wife, truly original even in pure agony, did not make use of these words. In fact, she had to say anything. Instead, she threw herself on me.
Of course, I do not think you keeping theThrow against them. Share the second lesson I wish to you is the importance of forgiveness, the person who, in his haste, in anger or in excruciating pain from the operation of a six-inch-wide child by a one-inch hole in her body.
Did I mention that this was a "natural" birth? Of course, as in no pain. OK, so that the PDA, which should alleviate the pain, even if one had worked for the four dose increases. And I guess you can call and morphineNubain painkillers, if they had actually killed any pain.
So my wife, with a permanent state back to strengthen the sting of each contraction and echoed through the spine with no momentary relief between contractions, felt every glorious minutes - 487 in all - from the unplanned "natural" birth. Did I mention that she is my hero? The third lesson is that if the best-laid plans go astray, improvise (explain what this might throw up - I have reason to believe it was notplanned, either).
My wife trauma was nothing compared to what Little Sister overcame. Hang your shoulders still, pinching the umbilical cord and the reduction of oxygen supply from her not quite born to-head. To do the equivalent, you would press your shoulders down to the nose, while a bulldozer on steroids, you puts a stream of blood through your mailbox. (Do not try this at home, folks.)
Thanks to Quick Thinking Doctor, the focused team of nurses and awell-sharpened pair of scissors, Little Sister is to enjoy a large suction at the milk bar all night with no more damage than a limp arm. (That's "brachial plexus injuries" in medicalese.) The arm is hoped to recover. Even if it does not, we know what would have been the alternative ... and we see no good in black. Lesson number four is to appreciate what you do not worry about what you do not.
The maternity ward has far too many lessons to share with you now. My fatigueis overtaking me. I feel like a bunch of rubber on the asphalt, rolled, baked in the sun, and put on a motorcycle tire burning rubber on a gravel road. Ha! We bet you never feel like New York, New York.
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