Annaluna, amore mio, listen to this: when a doctor calls another doctor is never a good sign. We continued the excruciating path of “ Push! Move here! Turn that way! Put your hand there and push hard” (the last is your mum asking me to press specific spots on her back), and the likes.Īnd that’s when the doctor finally called another doctor to consult. You bet, your mother hated me for that.Īnother 2 hours passed. Now you might think: Dad, what’s wrong with you? How can someone be hungry in such moments? Well, perhaps all the meditation I had done to prepare for this moment helped me stay tranquilo. “What’s this smell? Seriously, eating dark chocolate? Oh, come on!” Do you know how it felt for us? It’s like getting stuck to the finish line with both your feet locked on it with a superpowerful glue, unable to make the last step.Īt some point, the labor was interrupted by your mum: Apparently, though, I was wrong… because 2 hours later, you were still dancing in your mum’s belly. The thing is, I always thought the “average” Italian 30 minutes were the longest in the world.
You may wanna consider breaking that one at the end of the day, you’re only half Italian. I’m equipped with all my self-defined father-to-be survival kit: a notebook - in case inspiration knocks during waiting times - one extra t-shirt, and dark chocolate, rigorously 85% (low sugar, big energy boost).īut the nurse seems to have a different agenda: “ Oh this is good! It’s gonna take maximum 30 minutes, we’re close already!”Īnnaluna, because you are Italian, folks will expect you to be late: there’s such a stereotype out there. I take my place on the chair next to the bed and drop my backpack on the floor. I was torn between the joy of holding my first child and the daunting concern for my what was happening in the operating room.īut let me go back to 11 PM the previous night when it all started.Īfter the first checks on your mother, I’m allowed to enter the delivery room as well. In fact, the following half an hour was a mix of contrasting, clashing, and intense feelings. I had felt these too… until worrisome thoughts started to take over. People generally refer to these moments as blissful, emotional, overwhelmingly joyful. In the previous 15 minutes, I was switching my attention with increasing impatience between this beautiful, innocent being that you were and… my watch.
There I was, at 5 AM on a cold winter morning, holding you, my newborn daughter, Annaluna, while a veil of fear was beginning to obscure my bliss.
These words were hitting me like a drumbeat in my head as I counted 60 minutes after I left the room… and still no sign of your mother. He was referring to the surgery your mother was about to go through to close the cesarean section. “Please follow the nurse to the next room and enjoy your newborn daughter. A few seconds before holding you for the first time.
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