In a daydream, you imagine what it would be like to experience a birth, inspired by the arrival of a new baby girl to one of your good friends

You are woken at 3am by your wife, who is suffering tightenings, quickenings, contractions. This is not unusual: she has woken you every night for the last week with her sufferings. Even though the experience is familiar, it is exhilarating each time. You fall back to sleep. You awake again after an indeterminate period of time (in sleep, all periods of time are indeterminate). Your fecund wife is still awake, still experiencing pain. This time, you cannot resume slumber. You talk to her, quiz her of the pains. After an hour in bed like this, you switch on the bedside light to retrieve a digital watch. You time the contractions (yes – you are now referring to them as contractions). They last one minute, and are 10 minutes apart. You hug each other excitedly, then walk down the stairs together to phone the delivery suite.
- Hello, Maternity ward
Speaking in a deliberately measured tone (to give the impression of calm, of control):
- Hello. My name is {name}. My wife is one day past her due date, and we think that she is in the early stages of labour. We are registered for a home birth. Her contractions are one minute long, and 10 minutes apart…
Your wife, sat next to an alarm clock, corrects you:
- Now 6 minutes apart
- …sorry, six minutes apart.
- OK, would you like us to send out a midwife now?
Losing your cool a little, you fumble your words, ask your wife, and then pass the phone on to her. She makes the necessary arrangements, displaying the exact amount of confidence that you tried, then failed to pretend.

You walk to the utility room and attach a hose to the tap. You will use this hose to fill the inflated pool that you already have set up in your dining-room. Of course, before you go, you explain to your wife where you are going, and seek their approval. As the morning progresses, there will be much of this explanation/approval pattern (I’m just going to the toilet, will you be OK?).

You expect a period of the two of you sitting, waiting, talking. Instead, you hear a tentative door-tap almost immediately (it felt like immediately – how long could it have been? Minutes?). Standing at the door is a perfect midwife. She smiles, reassures, enters the room and begins to set out her stall.

To be continued…