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| A newborn Beau with sleepy Mum Tracey |
When is the right time to take the first picture of your wife and baby?
It's a question I pondered long before the rush to hospital and the ensuing trauma of the birth itself. I didn't need to ask my wife whether she wanted me to pack the video camera in the bag because I knew that would be a firm 'no'; she wouldn't trust me not to sneak it one while she was loaded up with gas and air and record the whole thing in glorious technicolour.
But a harmless little digital camera is different. Less intrusive. It captures a moment in a nanosecond before the victim, sorry, subject, has time to remonstrate; finding a video camera in your face with the person at the other end asking you to “act normally” is about as annoying as you can possibly get.
So when is a good time to get the camera out? I knew I had to remain at the head end but that was on page 1 of 'Pregnancy for Dummies'. Is there a protocol for pics? A time limit perhaps, or an unwritten rule that the lens cover shall not be removed until the application of a fresh coat of lipstick?
Judging by the shot above of my darling wife, Tracey, and our newborn son, Beau, 40 seconds after an emergency caesarean section is not it. With the cord wrapped round his neck three times, the doctors decided that Beau had better exit via the 'sunroof' to save the 24-hour labour from causing any more damage to mum or baby. Tracey lost around a litre of blood in the ensuring drama and therefore had absolutely no energy to stop me from whizzing out the Canon. The camera that is, not a member of the clergy.
Yet I am so glad I took this, intrusion and all, because for me it underlines the reality of what we and thousands of other parents go through. For the vast majority of people, the labour goes according to plan. Yes, it is painful, exhausting and emotional, but it's not like we didn't know that already. However, our rather dramatic experience, which ended with me in scrubs, Tracey on a drip and Beau needing oxygen, was as far removed from the books with all their gushing positivity as it could be. So this picture is all the more important for what it stands for: the heroics of my wife, the survival instincts of our baby and the amazing ability of the doctors and nurses to turn a potential disaster into a happy ending.
You hear people all the time thanking medical staff for their efforts but until you are in that situation you have no idea just how thankful you are. The team in theatre were as tight-knit as could be and dealt with the situation as if it were the simple carving of the Sunday roast. Just without the vegetables.
Two hours later and both mum and baby were doing remarkably well. I won't say Tracey felt like it had never happened, but she'd been so well looked-after that a handful of horse-strength pills had her bang to rights in no time at all.
Naturally the camera went into overdrive from that moment on but it's the very first picture of mum and baby that I will cherish forever. Of course that's just my opinion. Tracey still hates it and there is no way it will show its face in any of our albums. Given what she went through to bring the 9lb Beau Theodore Keen Rous into the world, that's the least I can do.
By Nathan Rous
January 2009 | 
Baby Beau's Birth
