When the final stage of labour started, at a civilized time of 7am, I did get a shock, one that did reflect a difference in culture. As my poor wife was led away to the delivery room, experiencing intense labour pains for the first time in her life, and not allowed any pain killers, I was told to just wait. It was like a secret society meeting to which I had no invitation. I was stunned that I could not be with my wife, and see the birth.

However, I quickly made the most of the situation, and recalled movies set in past times when Dad was not allowed in the delivery room. That way, the excitement, anticipation and tension built as I listened for some sign that the baby was either close, or had arrived. I did not hear a sound from my wife at all, but eventually the sound of a newborn baby crying broke the silence. We had a beautiful daughter, but I was still not allowed in immediately, as the staff wanted to have the baby and the room looking perfect.

It was worth the wait, and soon I was at Saffron's side, admiring her pretty and surprisingly feminine face. My wife slept blissfully; the night's activities had left her exhausted.