It was there in the middle of Dunnes
Stores
my waters they did break,
and him…he just gawked at me
with a luminous red bake.
Said I, ‘why don’t you help me?
I’m about to be a Mum!’
But that big red face of his
pumped like a baboon’s bum.
We were in the hardware section
so he ran and fetched a mop,
and people stood and stared at us
as he proceeded to clean it up.
Then he left me in the car park
while he went to get the car.
I fumed when he drove past me
and didn’t return for an hour.
On our way to the hospital
he hit every hump and bump.
‘Watch the baby’s head!’ cried I,
‘You stupid big lump.’
‘I can’t see the head,’ cried he
as he swayed towards a ditch.
‘Oh Jesus…just keep your eyes on the road –
it hasn’t arrived yet!’
When we arrived at the hospital
he turned a paler shade of white.
By now I had mellowed
and told him it was alright.
We held hands from the stretcher
en route to the labour suite.
He was being wheeled
and I was on my feet.
As I lay there like a Voodoo doll
and the needles pricked my skin,
I looked at him in agony.
‘Never again,’ said I to him.
That useless look upon his face
while standing at my bed.
‘Push, push honey,
I can see the baby’s head.’
‘It’s alright for you mate,
I’m the one in pain.
The whites of my eyes are red
with busted bloody veins!’
He came a little closer,
his hand I held so tight.
And with the next big contraction,
I bit down with all my might.
By now both of us were screaming –
each with different pain.
He jumped and danced about the room
like somebody insane.
The pains were coming faster,
harder to endure.
‘Another big push honey –
it’ll be over soon I’m sure.’
It’s OK for him
I said in silent cries.
If I hadn’t forgotten to take that pill
I wouldn’t be lying like this now.
As he bent down to hug me,
I gripped onto his hair
and pulled and pulled so hard
with the pain I had to bear.
When the pains came thicker and faster
another language I did speak.
Then a funny smell came to linger
like gas that sprung a leak.
Closer to the end
when the baby was almost here,
I cried for gas and air
and he held it to my ear.
He looked a little peculiar,
then I saw the reason why.
He’d emptied the gas and air bottle
and with the birds he was flying high.
Finally the time had come,
the baby had just arrived.
I was relieved it was all over
and him that he survived.
The doctor game him the scissors
the baby’s cord for to cut.
I nearly had another child
for when I looked
he had his eyes shut!
‘Oh no, that’s not the cord sir!’
The doctor he did say,
as my stupid stoned husband
almost cut our wee son’s jewels away.
To the doctors and the nurses
we must have looked a sight.
Myself like the exorcist,
And him, the loser of a fight.
When I asked a little later
if he still wanted seven sons,
he replied it was all too much for him
and that he’ll settle for just the one.
