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Daddy Cool
O, when would you like to have the baby?" "Whenever God wills!!" Not sure if our natural response is met by the nurse with a hint of disappointment. After all, a C-section is a (profitable) 'norm', rather than an exception mandated during fetal distress. The nurse eyes my belly, perhaps a momentary lapse to offer me a C-section too.
Fast forward five months. Wife's water breaks. We are in the emergency room. The nurse barks at me: "Attendant! Outside!!" “Apa, first of all, I am NOT the attendant Second, you see that screaming young lady with a bulge? I am responsible for that. Third, I am the 'coach' - I am Lamaze trained to fully assist the doctor during delivery."
The doctor comes. I tell her. "Her contractions are regular indicating she's three centimeters dilated."
Not sure if the doctor is shocked or impressed. Her assessment shows I am bang on target.
"Can we now please administer the epidural? We will lose the window of opportunity past six centimeters."
Shell shocked at the 'attendant' giving orders. She manages: "The expert anesthesiologist will come at 9am, but the baby will be born before then."
Try delivering this news to a woman going through the highest level of pain that a human can experience. I notify the boss in agony. I take the expletives like a real man.
Torment on the doctors (more join in) continue. I am in the delivery room in full gown, cap and gloves. The baby is delivered the old fashioned way - no epidural, no C-section and with the mother on track for the fastest recovery. I discreetly check to see if there is a Normal Delivery for Dummies lying around somewhere.
I cut the umbilical cord and recite the Adaan.
"We're taking the baby to be washed and then to the nursery."
What? Do you know that just about evety one day old human looks the same? How on earth are you going to ensure I'm not taking home Kuddus' daughter and vice versa?
I accompany the nurse all the way to the nursety.
"No sir, nobody allowed inside." "Well, then draw open the curtains, I will not have her out of my sight for a second." So, from then on till we are back home, I am with the baby like the SSF is with the Prime Minister.
Fast forward two years. DMCH (again) and Ekhlas Hossain, one of the twins. The agony of his disappearance and the ecstasy of his return. Kudos to the journalists and RAB. And sure, DMCH, for now introducing the ID sticker system to not allow babies without tags matching those of their mothers, to leave the hospital. Oh, and the additional CCTV cameras too.
Ah! Utopia!! I'm sure the cameras will work without a hitch. Hey, those twelve hours when the cameras were all off during which time the 10 minute younger twin made his way out was surely an exception. I'm sure the guards will be of unquestionable character, never to let even a fly go by without matching tags. And the tags themselves? I'm sure the entrepreneurial spirit will not come up with a way to make fake ones.
Meantime, hey you daddy, stay up! Mommy just went through labor and it's called LABOR for a reason. She needs the sleep. No need to get tired from nervously pacing outside the delivery room, puffing a smoke. That is an old fashioned (if a fashion at all) black and white movie. Let them all call you paranoid as you trust no one and don't let the baby out of sight for a single moment. This may be a tad simpler than cracking a nut with a sledgehammer by way of CCTV cameras, uninterrupted power supply, fool proof tags and yogi style guards.
Happy parenthood.
The writer Is an engineer & CEO turned comedian (by choice), the host of NTV's The Naveed Mahbub Show and the founder of Naveed's Comedy Club.
E-mail: Qaysed@naveedmahbub.CQm