I forgotten how to breathe. While I am personally breathing fine, I have forgotten how to coach Mae in her breathing during labour. It's all a blur now. Was it breathe-breathe-blow or breathe-blow-blow? But I'm not terribly worried cos I'm sure the midwives will be at hand to help.
But I am, however, worried about what to expect from Mae. I've heard the stories. Stories about wives who scream curses at their hubbies. Wives who shout profanity. Wives who blame their husbands. And then there are those wives who cause their poor unsuspecting husbands grievious bodily harm. Oh boy!
There was this wonderful husband who had the amazing idea of singing a hymn to calm his wife. As our man broke into song, his wife almost broke his head. "Shadddup!!!!" she screamed, "You're irritating me!!" Damn. Talk about a tough audience. I think this girl puts Simon Cowell to shame.
I was thinking of recording the whole event on camera. All of it. That also means shots of Mae in pain. Hehheh! But I worry that I might never make it out of that delivery room alive. And if I did, I might have a Canon permanently embedded in the middle of my face. *sigh*
On the other hand, photojournalists risk their lives all the time, shooting in warzones and in the thick of the action. After all, isn't it true that we have to suffer for our art? Heh!
Besides, I laugh in the face of danger.