While we were talking about the birth during the pregnancy, Mima and I didn’t even discuss whether I should be present in the delivery room or not. We both wanted it – and here in Germany it’s something that goes without saying.
After all the check-ups, watching the baby on the ultrasound, the walks and imagining what that tiny being would look like, the moment finally arrives when your little one decides to bless you with their arrival.
Honestly, eight months go by quickly – but that last month of pregnancy drags on endlessly. I wanted more and more to meet my little girl who kicked me in the back through Mama’s belly every morning and teased me into kicking back.
She was already missing her, even before she was born.
And so the day came when Mima felt the first contractions. In that moment, the most important thing is to stay composed and calm. Throughout the whole pregnancy I’d thought about “what and how” when that moment came, and I was convinced I’d faint before we even got to the hospital. But there was no room for that kind of drama – because I wasn’t the centre of attention in that moment. My “ladies” were.
The first contractions prompted Mima to finish writing her university paper (in those last three days before the birth she sat and wrote all day – which for me was a sign that something was happening). I made dinner and prepared sandwiches for the hospital, we both showered, did the laundry and hung it up to dry, watched a show on Serbian television – and once the contractions had settled into a rhythm of every eight minutes, we slowly set off on foot to the hospital. We didn’t want to rush, but since we wanted to walk, we didn’t want to wait too long either.
The moment you live for…
When Mima entered her ninth month, we went on an organised tour of the maternity ward, where doctors and midwives familiarised prospective parents with the details of the birth and answered our many questions.
Afterwards they showed us the route from the reception desk all the way to the delivery room, which here is truly beautifully arranged. We felt as if we were in a living room, not in a space you just pass through once. Mothers have a large bath available to rest in (which for Mima was of enormous importance), as well as a music player. For fathers there’s a comfortable armchair – and for the more demanding, there’s even WiFi.
These “little things” might seem unnecessary to some, but anyone who has witnessed a birth or given birth themselves knows that they genuinely make the whole process at least a little more pleasant. I’m sure nobody would enjoy having a tooth pulled in a dark basement.
Dad’s Presence — a Duty, Not an Option
In order to attend the birth, fathers here (in Germany, but also in most European countries) don’t need to provide any additional documentation, identification, or – God forbid – pay a fee. They simply need to show up!
And showing up, being present, is from my experience truly the very least they can do – given what our wives endure and survive in those moments.
Even if I’d had to pay, even if I’d had to provide my shoe size, even if I’d had to give up a kidney – I would have done it not to miss the moment my daughter arrived in this world. That moment has no price – and it is not missed!
It was only during the birth that I truly understood what the expression “labour pains” really means.
The Moment You Cannot Miss
My level of respect for my wife grew immeasurably in those moments – and one of the main reasons why I will advocate for the presence of fathers at births (at any cost) for the rest of my life is precisely this: so that they understand what women go through during this wonderful and for us men painless process. What they endure through the contractions, we men (thank God) will never have to go through. The very least we can do to help them is to be present and give them our support.
The moment I saw the head of our little angel beginning to emerge is something I will never forget. The happiness is indescribable! Those moments, when she lay on her mother’s chest and I stroked her hair, are irreplaceable. Her cry as I dried her and dressed her for the first time in the delivery room was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. The first embrace – priceless. The love between Mima and me, in physical form…
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