Glorified Version of A Stranger

Written on 2/22/2008 – 6:28 am | by keysinunez.com | 17,084 Views

Last 3 February 2008, at exactly 1915H, I officially joined the Father’s Guild. That’s right. My unica hija, Luna Ysabel entered this chaotic world with a loud wail.

Ultimately, the joy of holding my infant daughter was insurmountable. It still is, but, when Nina started laboring, the experience was nerve wracking.

I can never put it in words for I, being a member of the masculine class, will never ever experience the pain of being in labor, or delivering a child. I know for a fact that the process was a terrible burden for my wife. The pain came in waves, and as the baby descended further into her uterus, so did the pain double, until ultimately expelling a life from her womb.

I can however, describe the anxiety of waiting for news on my wife and daughter. Anxiety should be the right word. I held her hand as each wave of mounting pain passed over her body. With each wave, her grip tightened unlike nothing I have ever experienced before. And when the pinnacle of her labor pains was reached, she was quickly rushed into the delivery room, leaving me by my lonesome. This was where the anxiety began mounting, as the screams escaped from her mouth, and traveled through the doors, to my ears. I couldn’t bear to hear her cries of pain. I had to go out. I had to talk to someone. I had to at least let the disquiet in my heart out.

The hospital hallway was a blur as my feet took me through the white corridor to the parking lot. I couldn’t remember fishing the pack from my pocket, nor lighting a cigarette. All I remember was the turmoil inside me that manifested itself through tears. My knees buckled and I had difficulty breathing. I was shaking all over. My voice became faint. I began imagining things.

I tried calling my father of all the people that I could’ve called first. As expected, he was unreachable. When I dialed my mom, she didn’t pick up, even after 3 attempts. I dialed my brother’s number, and had him come over. I needed to talk someone, anyone. I dialed my mom’s number again, and got her on the first try. I think I sounded pathetic because she laughed at the tone and the shakiness in my voice. Tears rolled down my cheeks like it was going out of style. I couldn’t help it. People in the parking lot looked at me. It must have been a sight seeing someone covered with tattoos crying on the phone.

Bah! I didn’t care. I was really close to having a nervous breakdown or an anxiety attack. My mom, although she laughed at me over the phone, managed to clam me a little. I was still shaking when I went back in to await news of my wife’s delivery. My mouth was dry as I paced back and forth outside then delivery room doors. Finally, the doors opened and the wail of an infant escaped though them and traveled to my ears. My knees buckled and I was overcome with joy. I remember shedding more tears than I have ever shed in my whole life. The doctor came out and informed me that I had a beautiful baby girl, and that my wife was okay. All the anxiety washed away with the tears of joy that rolled down my cheeks. The happiness that filled my heart was overwhelming.

Minutes later, the two loves of my life rolled out the doors. I was the first to carry my little bundle of joy. I was the first to hold my fragile infant daughter in my arms. I cried again.

So there. The story of my adventure at the hospital. The story that I will be telling my daughter someday - that her dad cried a lot when she was born.

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