But the birth turned out to be terribly difficult. Micki was getting tired of pushing and the baby wasn't coming out. Eventually our son's life was in danger, and the midwife brought out the extractor. This tool seemed medieval to me. Simply described, they stick a big suction cup on the baby's head and pull him out by a chain. I had taken classes with Micki in order to help her, to coach her, when the time came; but instead Micki politely told me to butt out. She wanted to concentrate on the birth, not listen to me. So, I grabbed the camera and stood at the foot of the bed to watch and take pictures of the miracle of birth.
When the baby was far enough through the canal, the extractor was taken off, and I unconsciously lowered the camera and stared. The top of his head was coming into view, then more appeared, and I was horrified to see that instead of a face, there was just wrinkly skin with some hair on it! A monster was being born! Not wanting to unnerve Micki, I tried to smile and look positive, as if I were seeing something beautiful. I was a great actor! But I was an ignorant actor. I thought the first view was of the top of our son's head rather than the point, the crown, of it. And so what I thought was his face was actually the top of his head. Suddenly his entire head popped out, and he looked wonderfully normal. The rest of him came out relatively easily and quickly, and soon there was a family of three lying peacefully in the bed.
Our second child, Samuel, was born in a hospital, a birth almost equally as difficult. But our last four children were born at home, underwater. In this environment, Micki was better able to relax, and the births were much easier. By the time Disa was born, we didn’t even bother to call a midwife.
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