So I Married a Deaf Man II: Labor Pains

About 11 years ago, Brian and I found out we were pregnant. Of course we were so excited and couldn't wait for the day. Brian, understandably, wanted to be there every step of the way and be as much a part of it as he could. He and I discussed what he wanted to do when it was time to have the baby: did he want an interpreter there? I had thought yes, but apparently he felt that he wanted the whole experience to be more personal and private. I was a little surprised, but accepted it was what he wanted.

When the big (and I mean I was huge) day arrived, I had no idea what labor felt like. I started having contractions about 7am and they progressively got worse, then uncomfortable, then painful, then annoying, then I would have to stop walking. I thought they were Braxton Hix. I was sure I was going to be late and here it was a week early.

I had put in a full day of interpreting at an elementary school, ran errands, taught 2 sign language classes, and attended a bridal shower. It wasn't until I climbed the 3 flights of stairs up to our apartment and the dam broke my water broke that I realized the baby was coming. I tell you all this so you will understand my level of pain and exhaustion at this point.

Off we go to the hospital. The contractions are closer together now and they are really intense. We get there, I am leaking, nauseous, contracting, tired, a little weepy, and half naked.

My husband, on the other hand, decides he is curious. He starts asking the nurse:

"What is that for?"
"Is that the contractions?"
"Is that the baby's heart rate?"

Now remember, my husband is deaf. So HOW was he asking the nurse these question?

Me! That's how.

I did that for about 5 minutes before I finally looked at him and signed:

"Look. If you need an interpreter, let's have them call one. But I can't be that interpreter. I am a little distracted here, pushing out our baby, thank you very much. So either call an interpreter, find a pen and paper, or STOP ASKING QUESTIONS!!

He stopped asking questions and sat down on the couch near the bed.

And so it went for the next 3 babies. We would get to the hospital, he would get curious, I would remind him that birthing mothers don't interpret, and he stop.

With the birth of our 5th baby, I was done with labor interpreting. I arranged for an interpreter and I must say....this time around was so much nicer. Brian was much more involved, he was much more aware of everything that was going on, WAY more attentive to my needs. Good thing too because the epidural didn't work...

"Ouch!" is all I could say.

And someone, not me, was there to interpret it.