The delivery room was big, neat and comfortable. St Anthony’s Hospital, Cook County, Illinois, Chicago. The Electrocardiogram (ECG) machine was beeping. The other machine, I suspected was monitoring the extent of my wife’s vaginal dilation, was humming. They said she had gone 6cm and were waiting for 10cm. I sat with my first son, Giovanni, unperturbed and watching . My missus was wailing.
The nurse, with a color like the interior of a water melon, bellowed with a voice that belies her size and height, ‘the heart beat is strong, it is a boy”. I was worried about my missus intermittent wailings and ignored the Nurse, as if we did not see the scan image of the baby in Lagos before travelling to Chicago with his BIG TESTICLES and LONG PHALLUS. The image was crystal clear and we knew we were having another SOLDIER. The nurse epitomized efficiency and I watched her small frame darting back and forth like electrons. I thanked God I never had her type as a wife, for in your home, any item out of its normal position as identified and marked by her would ELICIT acerbic tongue-wagging.
I remembered the OBG in Faith City Hospital, Victoria Island, Lagos, Nigeria, where my missus had her routine antenatal visits. I accompanied her to the hospital most times. I remember vividly when the OBG was conducting the last scan to assure my wife that the baby was a boy, ..."ya, see the TIBIA and FIBULA", the Doctor said. "I can't see the HUMERUS", I chorused, displaying a bit knowledge of Human Anatomy. The doctor was taking all the glory in front of my missus and I had to DISPLAY too. "Charles see the SCROTUM and the PHALLUS. This boy gather oo!!". We were both staring at the SCAN MACHINE laughing. My missus HAD a wry smile on her face. She wanted a BABE. "3 TERRORISTS", she HARPED.
Contraction time again and my missus let out another ear-piercing wail. Giovanni impulsively yelled, “Mummy SHHOORRRYYY!!!”. Giovanni is two and has the speech style of most two year olds. I left my comfortable chair and went to peer at the ECG Machine. I was comfortable with the amplitude of the cycle I saw and the digital readings of the baby’s heart beat. The acoustics were encouraging too, like the beats of the big drums in a Nigerian Navy Band parade. A lot of machines. A lot of sounds, slightly bordering on cacophony in my present state.
I went back to my seat. The cycle had passed and my missus was quiet. I knew that in another five minutes, MAYHEM would be the lot. Another Nurse came in. Tall and wiry. She introduced herself. From Sierra Leone married to a Nigerian. When she talked it was like a dove’s coo. I relaxed. She spoke to my wife nicely and within the sane 5-minute window, we had small chats about Crisis in Africa, Her Husband, Naija, America, Haiti, Eba, Ewedu. Another loud WAIL and we all kept quiet.
A matron eventually came in. The epitome of a grandmother. She was nice. Another wail and my missus said she wanted to use the rest room. Giovanni laughed and screamed, “mummy wansh to pooh pooh”. The matron told her it was part of the birth process. It was the second experience, but the first one was through CS, since she stopped dilating at 4cm. She had already done 6cm. I had mixed feelings about the natural birth and another CS.
I would have preferred another CS since it would keep my ‘THING’ intact, but would add some extra thousands of dollars to the medical bill. I was hoping for the best. Anything that would guarantee the safety of mother and baby.
The old matron told her an Epidural was going to be administered to numb the pains. Questions were now being asked. “How old are you?” “Any medical history?” Was your first baby vaginal or CS?” It was left for them to ask if I had a history of Herpes or Syphilis. “Do you take alcohol?”. “Do you smoke?”.
They took a blood sample. Forms were brought. I told the matron and the nice nurses to be flexible in their decision making and choose the best option. Giovanni was born through CS and they asked if we would opt for another CS or VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Caesarian). Let nature take its course, I told them.
Another quiet moment. I asked after the doctor. Dr Ayoade Akere. A renowned OBG in Illinois, Chicago. We had three different recommendations to use him from Nigeria. I was told he was on his way. My mind drifted to the chains of events in the last one month that took us to Chicago.
After our first son, he was born in Capetown, South Africa, we decided to give America a shot for the next baby. The decisions were purely of HUMAN CAPITAL DEVELOPMENT reasons. A lot of sacrifices were made. Not buying that ‘Toyota Spider’ and moving to a Duplex. We had our visas and the SPERM CELLS decided to shake hands with the OVARY at the appropriate time.
My wife left for Chicago after enquiries and consultations. Some enquiries made to ‘friends’ were not returned while some were returned and voicemails becoming the norm in voice communications to people in the US as against full duplex calls. She travelled a month to her EDD (Expected Due Date) which was between 7 - 11, January, 2010. My leave was not due. I just changed jobs. My trip to join her with my son was for Dec 24, 2010. I was left to carter for a cantankerous two year old. I summarily shipped him to my In-law’s and sister who were happy to receive the ambitious and adventurous lad. He bluntly refused to speak to her mummy on the phone, “mummy, I don’t want to ‘shhpeak’ to you again”. He felt the mum abandoned him.
December 24 timeline came and we boarded a Delta Airlines flight from Lagos to Atlanta after passing through the rigors of the Local Bus Terminal called Murtala Mohammed International Airport, Lagos. We arrived Atlanta on 25 Dec, around 6am, ATL time. It was the peak of winter and the weather channel predicted 2 inch of snow in ATL on 25 Dec and heavy snowfall in Chicago on 25 Dec.
I was not surprised when all flights to Chicago from Atlanta were cancelled. I had consulted the weather channel and was expecting the worse. We moved to my wife’s friend’s home in Atlanta. Heavens opened up immediately we left the airport en route her place and Atlanta had the first snow in 125yrs on December. People ran out to the streets celebrating a WHITE CHRISTMAS. My sleep clock was haywire and I needed a glass of beer and some sleep.
We slept, woke up and left for the airport. We boarded an 8.25am Delta flight to Chicago. We got to a frozen Chicago around 10am and left for Embassy Suites, O’Hare. My missus was there. The Airport shuttle took me and my noisy boy to Embassy Suites. We saw missus and mother and son re-united. It was an emotional spectacle. Giovanni grabbed my missus and kissed her.
We left the Hotel the next day and through the help of a Nigerian Professor who teaches Algebra and Applied Mathematics in Chicago, introduced to us by a Nigerian Prof in New York, we got a one-bedroom apartment on the North side of Chicago not too far from the hospital. I left for the malls to buy stuff to equip our temporary abode and keep it comfortable. I NESTED TOO.
Missus had a date with the OBG and was scheduled for another visit on the Dec 4, 2010. That appointment was not kept as we were in the Labor room on the Dec 3, 2010. We retired to bed after spending some time with family friends who drove all the way from Milwaukee to visit us. I received a tap on my shoulder and instantly woke up from a deep slumber. My wife was peering at me. She told she was having contractions and had called Dr Akere. An SMS came in and we had the number of a taxi company to call.
I called the taxi number and started getting Giovanni ready. She had already started screaming. The taxi arrived and I tugged her bags and Giovanni's stuff. The temperature was -5C outside. We entered the taxi and sped off to St Anthony's Hospital in West Chicago. We were treated to musical cycles by my wife which comprised of periods of mute-singing and long periods of wailing.
We arrived the hospital after 20mins and were ushered through the emergency entrance. Missus was wheeled to the elevator and straight to the labor room. I tagged along with my able partner in the experience, Giovanni Okoronkwo.
Another contraction and the accompanying heart-rendering sound laid to the Anesthesiologist being summoned and the Epidural administered. More forms were brought and I signed away my life and that of my family. I did not care to read through the documents again.
She was calm after 5 minutes. A doctor of Chinese descent came in and spoke with the Midwestern Chicago accent. There was nothing Chinese about him except the looks. He was nice. They were all nice and gentle. He checked my wife and screamed that she had done 9cm. He told my wife that she was ready to have the baby the normal way. He broke the water. After peering at the humming machines he left. Test results came in and everything was right.
Dr. Akere walked in after 10 minutes, checked my missus , looked at the equipment and I saw a glow on his face. I was happy too. He BELLOWED, “Madam, you are 10 + 1 and ready to go. I heaved a sigh of relief. Giovanni felt my emotions and smiled.
The time was 11:30am and what happened in the next 29 minutes would remain with me for a long time. The final lap of the long race started. The doctors and nurses were nudging and speaking nicely to the expectant mum. Another contraction and she would be encouraged to push. At a point the only word I could decipher from all voices was PUSH.
After about another 5 cycles of contractions and PUSHING, the doctor’s face came aglow and he said PUSH now. I suspected the head was coming out. I left Giovanni on the chair and moved closer to the bed to catch the mop of black hair and putty face pop out. At the final nudging, the body slipped out. I saw BABY ANDRE and said ‘GAME OVER’. I held my missus and called her an Amazon. She beamed with a smile with a bead of sweat on her face. I never saw anything more beautiful. I squeezed her palm and she squeezed mine accenting. Giovanni came around and said with that characteristic intelligence, “ANDRE MY ‘BYOTHER’ “.
The nurse, with a color like the interior of a water melon, bellowed with a voice that belies her size and height, ‘the heart beat is strong, it is a boy”. I was worried about my missus intermittent wailings and ignored the Nurse, as if we did not see the scan image of the baby in Lagos before travelling to Chicago with his BIG TESTICLES and LONG PHALLUS. The image was crystal clear and we knew we were having another SOLDIER. The nurse epitomized efficiency and I watched her small frame darting back and forth like electrons. I thanked God I never had her type as a wife, for in your home, any item out of its normal position as identified and marked by her would ELICIT acerbic tongue-wagging.
I remembered the OBG in Faith City Hospital, Victoria Island, Lagos, Nigeria, where my missus had her routine antenatal visits. I accompanied her to the hospital most times. I remember vividly when the OBG was conducting the last scan to assure my wife that the baby was a boy, ..."ya, see the TIBIA and FIBULA", the Doctor said. "I can't see the HUMERUS", I chorused, displaying a bit knowledge of Human Anatomy. The doctor was taking all the glory in front of my missus and I had to DISPLAY too. "Charles see the SCROTUM and the PHALLUS. This boy gather oo!!". We were both staring at the SCAN MACHINE laughing. My missus HAD a wry smile on her face. She wanted a BABE. "3 TERRORISTS", she HARPED.
Contraction time again and my missus let out another ear-piercing wail. Giovanni impulsively yelled, “Mummy SHHOORRRYYY!!!”. Giovanni is two and has the speech style of most two year olds. I left my comfortable chair and went to peer at the ECG Machine. I was comfortable with the amplitude of the cycle I saw and the digital readings of the baby’s heart beat. The acoustics were encouraging too, like the beats of the big drums in a Nigerian Navy Band parade. A lot of machines. A lot of sounds, slightly bordering on cacophony in my present state.
I went back to my seat. The cycle had passed and my missus was quiet. I knew that in another five minutes, MAYHEM would be the lot. Another Nurse came in. Tall and wiry. She introduced herself. From Sierra Leone married to a Nigerian. When she talked it was like a dove’s coo. I relaxed. She spoke to my wife nicely and within the sane 5-minute window, we had small chats about Crisis in Africa, Her Husband, Naija, America, Haiti, Eba, Ewedu. Another loud WAIL and we all kept quiet.
A matron eventually came in. The epitome of a grandmother. She was nice. Another wail and my missus said she wanted to use the rest room. Giovanni laughed and screamed, “mummy wansh to pooh pooh”. The matron told her it was part of the birth process. It was the second experience, but the first one was through CS, since she stopped dilating at 4cm. She had already done 6cm. I had mixed feelings about the natural birth and another CS.
I would have preferred another CS since it would keep my ‘THING’ intact, but would add some extra thousands of dollars to the medical bill. I was hoping for the best. Anything that would guarantee the safety of mother and baby.
The old matron told her an Epidural was going to be administered to numb the pains. Questions were now being asked. “How old are you?” “Any medical history?” Was your first baby vaginal or CS?” It was left for them to ask if I had a history of Herpes or Syphilis. “Do you take alcohol?”. “Do you smoke?”.
They took a blood sample. Forms were brought. I told the matron and the nice nurses to be flexible in their decision making and choose the best option. Giovanni was born through CS and they asked if we would opt for another CS or VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Caesarian). Let nature take its course, I told them.
Another quiet moment. I asked after the doctor. Dr Ayoade Akere. A renowned OBG in Illinois, Chicago. We had three different recommendations to use him from Nigeria. I was told he was on his way. My mind drifted to the chains of events in the last one month that took us to Chicago.
After our first son, he was born in Capetown, South Africa, we decided to give America a shot for the next baby. The decisions were purely of HUMAN CAPITAL DEVELOPMENT reasons. A lot of sacrifices were made. Not buying that ‘Toyota Spider’ and moving to a Duplex. We had our visas and the SPERM CELLS decided to shake hands with the OVARY at the appropriate time.
My wife left for Chicago after enquiries and consultations. Some enquiries made to ‘friends’ were not returned while some were returned and voicemails becoming the norm in voice communications to people in the US as against full duplex calls. She travelled a month to her EDD (Expected Due Date) which was between 7 - 11, January, 2010. My leave was not due. I just changed jobs. My trip to join her with my son was for Dec 24, 2010. I was left to carter for a cantankerous two year old. I summarily shipped him to my In-law’s and sister who were happy to receive the ambitious and adventurous lad. He bluntly refused to speak to her mummy on the phone, “mummy, I don’t want to ‘shhpeak’ to you again”. He felt the mum abandoned him.
December 24 timeline came and we boarded a Delta Airlines flight from Lagos to Atlanta after passing through the rigors of the Local Bus Terminal called Murtala Mohammed International Airport, Lagos. We arrived Atlanta on 25 Dec, around 6am, ATL time. It was the peak of winter and the weather channel predicted 2 inch of snow in ATL on 25 Dec and heavy snowfall in Chicago on 25 Dec.
I was not surprised when all flights to Chicago from Atlanta were cancelled. I had consulted the weather channel and was expecting the worse. We moved to my wife’s friend’s home in Atlanta. Heavens opened up immediately we left the airport en route her place and Atlanta had the first snow in 125yrs on December. People ran out to the streets celebrating a WHITE CHRISTMAS. My sleep clock was haywire and I needed a glass of beer and some sleep.
We slept, woke up and left for the airport. We boarded an 8.25am Delta flight to Chicago. We got to a frozen Chicago around 10am and left for Embassy Suites, O’Hare. My missus was there. The Airport shuttle took me and my noisy boy to Embassy Suites. We saw missus and mother and son re-united. It was an emotional spectacle. Giovanni grabbed my missus and kissed her.
We left the Hotel the next day and through the help of a Nigerian Professor who teaches Algebra and Applied Mathematics in Chicago, introduced to us by a Nigerian Prof in New York, we got a one-bedroom apartment on the North side of Chicago not too far from the hospital. I left for the malls to buy stuff to equip our temporary abode and keep it comfortable. I NESTED TOO.
Missus had a date with the OBG and was scheduled for another visit on the Dec 4, 2010. That appointment was not kept as we were in the Labor room on the Dec 3, 2010. We retired to bed after spending some time with family friends who drove all the way from Milwaukee to visit us. I received a tap on my shoulder and instantly woke up from a deep slumber. My wife was peering at me. She told she was having contractions and had called Dr Akere. An SMS came in and we had the number of a taxi company to call.
I called the taxi number and started getting Giovanni ready. She had already started screaming. The taxi arrived and I tugged her bags and Giovanni's stuff. The temperature was -5C outside. We entered the taxi and sped off to St Anthony's Hospital in West Chicago. We were treated to musical cycles by my wife which comprised of periods of mute-singing and long periods of wailing.
We arrived the hospital after 20mins and were ushered through the emergency entrance. Missus was wheeled to the elevator and straight to the labor room. I tagged along with my able partner in the experience, Giovanni Okoronkwo.
Another contraction and the accompanying heart-rendering sound laid to the Anesthesiologist being summoned and the Epidural administered. More forms were brought and I signed away my life and that of my family. I did not care to read through the documents again.
She was calm after 5 minutes. A doctor of Chinese descent came in and spoke with the Midwestern Chicago accent. There was nothing Chinese about him except the looks. He was nice. They were all nice and gentle. He checked my wife and screamed that she had done 9cm. He told my wife that she was ready to have the baby the normal way. He broke the water. After peering at the humming machines he left. Test results came in and everything was right.
Dr. Akere walked in after 10 minutes, checked my missus , looked at the equipment and I saw a glow on his face. I was happy too. He BELLOWED, “Madam, you are 10 + 1 and ready to go. I heaved a sigh of relief. Giovanni felt my emotions and smiled.
The time was 11:30am and what happened in the next 29 minutes would remain with me for a long time. The final lap of the long race started. The doctors and nurses were nudging and speaking nicely to the expectant mum. Another contraction and she would be encouraged to push. At a point the only word I could decipher from all voices was PUSH.
After about another 5 cycles of contractions and PUSHING, the doctor’s face came aglow and he said PUSH now. I suspected the head was coming out. I left Giovanni on the chair and moved closer to the bed to catch the mop of black hair and putty face pop out. At the final nudging, the body slipped out. I saw BABY ANDRE and said ‘GAME OVER’. I held my missus and called her an Amazon. She beamed with a smile with a bead of sweat on her face. I never saw anything more beautiful. I squeezed her palm and she squeezed mine accenting. Giovanni came around and said with that characteristic intelligence, “ANDRE MY ‘BYOTHER’ “.
Andre was cleaned. I was called to cut the UMBILICAL CORD. I did not understand the import of the act. My missus encouraged me and I cut the CORD. I looked at his face, he was crying. He released three long shots of pee into the air and on my face.
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