Not so hard labour

Waree gave birth a lovely baby boy at 3am on Friday 1st of October. His name is Adam Su-Pa-Chai Jack Holton. I hope he can stand it when he gets older.
It was an amazing experience. Waree wasn’t due until the 10th of October but she had been having pains for a few days. I read up extensively on the internet (you would think I would know about labour by now) so when she woke me up at 1am on Friday with a strong pain I carefully started recording the duration and interval using the lap timer on my mobile phone. Waree didn’t seem very interested in what I was doing and appeared to be more concerned about the pain, although I did what I could to help her.

We went downstairs and Waree sat down on the tiled floor while I held her hand during the pains, or rather she tried to crush my hand during the pains.

Her mother got up and in about 10 minutes we had 6 or so women from neighbouring houses and Waree’s mother and sister all sitting on the floor watching Waree with considerable interest. Of course they all gabbled in Thai but I was not disturbed by the hubbub and steadfastly recorded the statistics of the pains. They were very erratic occurring from 6 to 2 minute intervals with durations varying from 20 seconds to a minute. Fortunately due to my assiduous preparation I knew that this meant that she was in the very early stages of labour and as it was her first baby this could go on for 6 to 9 hours or more before it settled down into that regular pattern of increasing frequency and strength which indicates that it is time to go to the hospital.

I tried to explain this to Waree and suggested that we should ring the hospital to ask for their advice as this is what it tells you to do in the instruction books. Amazingly she did not appear in the slightest degree interested in what I had to say but this could have been due to the limitations of her English and the generally noisy surroundings apart from her apparent preoccupation with the pains.

I was greatly concerned when I heard the diesel engine of Waree’s brother, Joi’s, truck outside and even more so when they all started collecting things together to start leaving the house. Clearly it was far too early to leave for the hospital even though it is over one hour’s drive away. I frantically tried to ring the hospital hoping to talk to somebody who understood English and who could explain to everybody that there was no rush as the pains had not yet settled into a pattern. None of the phones worked and the next thing I knew was that I was sitting in the back of the open ute trying to support Waree along with her mother, sister and two neighbours.

Waree’s pains did seem to be increasing and she became quite irritable when I asked her to tell me when they started and finished as it was difficult to tell. At times they appeared to be almost continuous and I was getting confused with the lap timing on my mobile phone. They seemed to have settled into a regular 2 minute interval but as we were supposed to leave for hospital when they reduced to a 5 minute interval I knew that this could not be correct as they had never been at a 5 minute interval. Clearly they were still erratic and I was proved correct as towards the end of our journey they appeared to subside altogether.

I was an exciting and beautiful journey as the air was cool and the landscape lit by a full moon. Joi always drives very fast and I think the emergency must have given him the excuse to go even faster. One of the highlights of the journey for me was when Huan, our next door neighbour of whom I am very fond, started massaging my feet which were pointed in her direction. However she stopped abruptly when she realized that they were not Waree’s. Another neighbour, Nan, appeared to have taken charge and was clasping Waree firmly with both arms around her while she nestled Waree between her legs. This seemed to work, although I was serving a useful function giving Waree some fingers to attempt to crush and helping her subsume the pain by venting her anger on me each time I asked her whether the contraction had started.

Towards the end of the journey I realized that on arrival nobody would ask me about the frequency of the contractions in any case as they would examine Waree to check the dilation of her cervix. So I discretely abandoned the timing and concentrated on enjoying the beautiful Thai landscape and praying they we would not go off the road in one of the stretches of potholes and that no water buffalo would stray on to the road.

At the hospital we went straight into the labour room which surprised me and I was even more surprised when Waree’s specialist a very pleasant Chinese obstetrician turned up about 10 minutes later. My experience with the birth of my other children in Australia has been that the doctor rarely turns up at all and certainly not in the middle of the night. I remember with Jay there were complications and he was showing signs of distress so the nurses were desperately trying to contact the doctor who was at a dinner party. When he finally turned up it was all over and done with. That the specialist should turn up at 2.30am was impressive.

He promptly examined Waree and told me that she was fully dilated at 10cms which was a bit of a shock. Half an hour later Waree had given birth to a boy and both of them seemed to be in excellent condition. I stayed throughout and had an excellent view. In previous births I had either not been allowed in at all, which was the standard in the 1970’s or I had been ordered to sit beside my wife and hold her hand from which viewpoint you can actually see very little of what is going on. I this case the nurse gestured to me to retreat which could have meant leave the room however I interpreted it as “get out of the way you oaf” and leaned discretely against a wall in a corner. After a few minutes the orderly got me a stool to sit on which I presumed meant that I could stay.

It was of course very grizzly although much of the time the doctor sat on a stool staring intensely at Waree’s open legs watching and waiting while he asked Waree to push. She didn’t seem to be in much pain but had difficulty getting up enough strength to push. At last the babies head covered with black hair appeared and then like a conjurer the specialist appeared in some way to twist and flick the baby’s head so that the rest of it appeared.

There was a bit of drama when the nurse for some reason could not cut the umbilical cord effectively and caused the doctor to gabble at her in Thai. Then they unceremoniously dumped the baby on a little platform thing and promptly ignored it while they concentrated on Waree. I thought that the poor thing would freeze as it had no blanket or covering and it was only later that I realized that the platform thing had a radiant heater above the baby.

The doctor carefully examined the placenta for some time as though he were choosing a choice cut for a dinner party. They always do this I have noticed, I know they have to check that it is all there but I am not sure what else they are looking for.


Newborn


Then he spent an interminable amount of time stitching her while the baby was put on her breast and subsequently cleaned and measured. Much of this time I had been standing up against the double doors to the delivery room and had been vaguely aware of a scuffling and grunting noise outside. The doors had two small glass windows in them covered with opaque stripes to obscure the view. It was only later when they complained that I had obstructed the view that I realized that there had been a collection of relatives and neighbours outside vying with each other to view the proceedings through the narrow gaps in the windows.

When we finally emerged I was to find the hospital deserted apart from various ladies who had traveled with us asleep on any benches they could find.

When we got to Waree’s room everybody came along and at one time I counted 10 people in the room including the baby and myself. By that time it was daylight and Rat (Waree’s sister) appeared with a big bag of warm Thai doenuts, sweet hot soya milk drinks in plastic bags and the normal sticky rice and barbequed pork. As usual they had brought a rush mat and we all sat down to each on the floor of the room to eat and variously coo over the baby, who was handed around from person to person for the ladies to hold and comment upon.


A crowded room


Happy families


I ate many doenuts of course but struggled with the very hot soya milk drink as I could not work out how to open the plastic bag without spilling the contents. This is the sort of thing that Waree normally does for me being far more skilled in such tasks but at the time she was preoccupied. I tried tearing at the corner of the bag with my teeth, having been encouraged to do so by one of the ladies and eventually managed to make a small hole. Fortunately, Rat appeared with a straw which made it easier to access the contents.

Eventually everybody went back on the truck to the village leaving Rat and I to stay with Waree. I suspected that the main reason for Rat’s presence was not so much to look after Waree as to keep an eye on me as everybody was aware that the Farang was not to be trusted with the simplest of tasks.

That night I shared Waree’s hospital bed while Rat slept of the couch. I was somewhat disgruntled in the morning when a nurse woke me up and I had to get off the bed while they checked Waree.

I have never seen so many people attend a patient’s room before. There was an endless stream of doctors, nurses, orderly’s, administrators and others. I would estimate about 50 over the two days we were there. Waree’s Chinese specialist was there first thing in the morning looking immaculate and fresh as always. His English is limited but with a broad smile he told me that there were no complications. He and other female doctors kept checking Waree but the baby was largely ignored. Another doctor who I took to be a pediatrician called in twice a day and put his stethoscope on the baby’s chest briefly before smiling and telling me he is OK. Other than that nobody so much as counted his toes.

So after spending one night in the hospital the following afternoon we left to return in the truck to the village. I should explain that we were at the Watana private hospital which is supposed to be the best in Nong Khai and is listed in the guide books as the only hospital that visitors to Lao who are taken ill should consider attending. Apparently there are no suitable hospitals in Lao itself. We had a package in the hospital which included everything doctors, delivery, a private room with TV and balcony, medicines a bag of milk, clothes, blankets for the baby, food etc for about $450 Australian which was not too bad really. Especially as they had an excellent coffee bar in the foyer. It was here that I experienced for the first time the Thai habit of serving a mug of tea to drink after the coffee which is an excellent as it clears the palette.


Waree was remarkably fit after her experience and we did some shopping on the way back.

That evening we had many people come visiting to drink my beer and look at the baby. The three bottles of Chang beer I had in the fridge had gone, which is unusual as everybody is very polite and would not dream of drinking my beer unless I invite them to. When I asked where they had gone Waree told me that her father had been celebrating the birth with some friends, I could hardly blame him.


So we had to have warm beer with ice.

The ladies all wanted to coo and check the baby out. They were very keen to get its nappies off so they could see the Farang penis. There was much ribaldry which even with my limited Thai I could understand. Hoo, who is a very pretty lady from the house opposite (almost beautiful) kept saying that I had very good sperm and she wanted a baby like that, I suggestion with which I enthusiastically agreed. There were many comments about the effects of the stitching the doctor had done variously to the effect that I might enjoy it or that being a Farang it might cause a problem. As always in these gatherings there is a continual flow of badinage and repartee which is generally hilarious even if I don’t fully understand it.

The baby was almost perfect throughout. He seems very placid and when he cries is easily satisfied.

The next day we had buffalo and sticky rice for breakfast with a dozen or so people sitting eating and drinking beer and Thai whisky on mats on the floor of the verandah. Thai people like to get drunk in the morning. Throughout the day ladies from the village called in to inspect the Farang baby and joke in Thai. At lunchtime we gathered again on one of the raised eating platforms to eat fresh grilled catfish, sticky rice and papaya salad. I am almost becoming adept at rolling the rice into a ball with one hand and picking up a small amount of fish or papaya to go with it. Thai people here in Issan eat very slowly and delicately, sitting cross legged in a group and leaning forward to select a tasty morsel to eat with their ball of rice. They don’t overindulge at all and somehow everybody seems to eat the best bits with no competition or organization. I think everybody is so polite that they leave the best to everybody else so that all are satisfied. This is all accompanied by endless conversation and good humour. We westerners have a lot to learn from them.