The baby was due on the 12th , and at 4:30 my wife woke me to say she thought it was starting. At 5 we rang the midwife who said we plenty of time and to call later back in the morning. At 5:45 Bridge begged me to call again because she was now in pretty much constant pain with breaks of only a few seconds in between. The midwife arrived at 6:15, and immediately told me to ring an ambulance as she was having the baby now. I'm not very good in a crisis, and the midwife took the phone off me and told me to wait to wait outside "to watch for the ambulance" so at least I felt like I had something to do. The ambulance got us to hospital at 6:38, then I heard the midwife say, almost to herself, "I don't think that's the head". The baby was breached, the doctor called, and Bridget prepped for surgery. There was no time to get her to theatre so they were doing it right there. I gripped onto her and did everything I could not to collapse. The doctor was just walking in the door when the midwife said it was too late, the baby had decided it was coming out the natural way and to hell with everyone else. At 6:51, thirteen minutes after we arrived at hospital, Zoe made her spectactular entrance.
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