The Father's Strength

Now we are three. Our son Myles Dylan Ikenna Chipperfield was born in Adelaide on June 12 at 7.58am by caesarean section. A flawless delivery by Dr Karen Chandler and her team at Burnside War Memorial Hospital – the only hiccup was that Vina required two doses of anaesthetic (spinal block) to do the job. Amusing to hear the surgical team chatting about their own family lives (school outings, buying party dresses and the like) while we waited for our own family to begin. If Vina looked nervous she hid it well behind smiles and jokes. 

Then the blue screen went up and the surgical chitchat slowed. There was a momentary lull from the other side of the screen and then my son appeared, held high in the air by Dr Chandler, screaming his lungs out. Like a mini prizefighter, bloody but triumphant. Is there anything more dramatic than birth? The glare of lights. The audience. And the star of the show, fresh from the placenta and still attached to his rope-like umbilical chord: a tiny astronaut, stepping naked and alone into deep space. From the dark to the light. 

Modern childbirth is a highly choreographed affair – there is the cutting of the umbilical chord, a quick once over by the paediatrician, the wrapping of the baby and first hug from mum and dad. This is a hug like no other, when the whole world, the universe and stars under God are cradled in your arms. It’s like a slow motion bungee jump into a giant bed of happiness. Except that nothing is moving, apart from the gyrations of your heart. I feel the pinprick of tears, but I do not cry. You cannot really cry if you are this happy. Punch drunk happy, you might call it. 

There is so much to say about that sparkling Winter morning in Adelaide, but what stays with me is the time I spend with Myles alone, waiting for his mother to return from the operating theatre. I listen the gurgles and sniffles and tiny little cries coming from his crib. There’s a watermelon grin across my chops. This is my son named Ikenna (“The Father’s Strength”) to honour his African heritage. Our journey is about to begin. But for the moment I am content just to listen, to marvel, to breathe. The rest of the world can go hang. I have a newborn son.