The early frustrations of a Brighton Dad

Franz Kafka famously declared: 'There art two cardinal sins from which all others spring: Impatience and Laziness.' It's easy for him to say – he never raised any children! Kafka was so self-conscious and weird that he never really gave himself the opportunity. If he had, who knows what he would have made of patience, for he will have been tested as much as any new Dad.

Instances of other people's thoughtlessness or ignorance to the fact you have a newborn baby pile on top of one another until they become legion. The trick is not to let them get to you, take a deep breath, smile politely and move along.

It started at the Royal Sussex hospital, when I noticed that a bunch of smokers seemed to be constantly gathered at the foot of the Thomas Kemp tower (which houses the maternity wards), happily puffing away underneath 'No Smoking' signs at the car park exit. Whether they are aware of the fact that one of the maternity ward exits is right next to them or not, it's still highly insensitive to smoke in an exact spot where the hospital authorities clearly do not wish you to. Coupled with the fact that this was the area where my newborn daughter would make her debut to the outside world, meant I was actively angry.

I thought about saying something but realised that: a), I didn't want to get bashed up, particularly in front of my tired wife and baby; and, b) it dawned on me that these people might be dealing with ill relatives and other sensitive issues. So rather than get angry, I flipped the situation on its head and tried to think of the reasons why they might be desperate for a cigarette (beyond the fact they are addicted to nicotine). It helped calm me down, along with uttering the word 'unbelievable' a few times under my breath.

Driving back from the hospital, I was naturally mindful of my own driving; but it was increasingly frustrating to witness other drivers blatantly disregarding the bright yellow 'Baby on Board' sticker I have in the back window and driving like animals around me. Again, deep breaths rather than offering abuse is probably the correct response.

The first time we took Eve for a walk, along Western Road, was a steep learning curve, especially when crossing roads that dissect the road/pavement you are on. I expected cars to wave someone with a pram across the road they are trying to pull out of before they commence their manoeuvre, rather than blindly accelerating as if we're not there. This is especially annoying if they get to the exit and have to sit there for a while before pulling away, thereby blocking the crossing for us.

Pedestrians are no better. Why is it that when some people (young men are the worst) see a pram they feel the need to rush past it rather than risk getting stuck behind it on the pavement for, say, 15 seconds. I've lost count of the number of times that someone has either knocked the pram in their quest to beat it, or actually made me stop. Very frustrating.

If you're like me, you're one of those people that likes to cross a road as quickly as possible, as long as it's safe. Even if a crossing is displaying the red man, you'll cross if there is no traffic. Wave goodbye to that idea! All of a sudden, with a pram, you are expected to wait at the crossing until the green man appears; while all around you people cross the road happily and without risk. It's no doubt safer to wait for the green man but in some places in Brighton, this can take an eternity.

Patience is required at home too. It's a cliché, of course, but it's does take a lot longer to get anywhere when you have a baby. Even a short trip to the shops can take ages as you make sure you have everything you need should the baby start crying, soil herself, implode, fall down a mine shaft etc. Again, take a deep breath – huffing and shouting at your partner will not help. In fact, my wife observed that the more you rush, the longer it will take as you begin panicking and re-checking if you have everything.

Moreover, if you try and rush the baby's routine (if you have one) in order to leave the house at a certain time, something's bound to go wrong. A favourite of mine is thinking you are ready to leave, followed by a loud explosion coming from the baby's bottom; yup she needs a nappy change and a new set of clothes to wear – add on 15 minutes instantly. If you do not have children yet, please never get annoyed if friends with children are late for a special occasion, even if they are two months late. It's not easy.

Domestic frustrations include, of course, all the other little ways in which your bundle of joy can get in the way of previously enjoyed activities. No, you probably won't be able to watch a football match all the way through (including the pre-, post-, and half-time analysis) or a movie or your favourite TV programme or even just sit on the sofa with a beer or a book.

In all of the above scenarios, duty calls and you have to become a father, which is weird as you haven't even begun to think of yourself as a father yet. I'm still in the middle of it all, and struggling at times, but I know maturity is needed. It won't happen overnight, but I know there will come a time when all of this will feel natural and before I know it I'll just be a Dad, in the same way that it felt weird to be married and have a wife, but now feels normal.

No-one grows up overnight. We just have to make sure that when it does happen, we've grown into the person we wanted to be.

Brighton meals for 2.5 people: Jamie's Italian

We took our daughter Eve to Jamie's Italian when she was just 10 days old and it was a pleasant experience - though how much of this was down to the venue or the fact the baby slept through the entire meal I'm not sure.

It was a weekday lunchtime and I was present due to my 2-week paternity leave. Dads - I highly recommend taking the maximum your company will allow and will perhaps write a small blog entry on this to explore the options further.

We have a fairly big pram, a second-hand Mamas & Papas Pliko Pramette. We wheeled it in to the front desk and the front-of-house woman told us we'd have to wait maybe 15mins but we could happily wait at the bar and have a drink and some nibbles in the meantime.

If you've been to Jamie's you'll know it can get packed, especially in the bar area. If this was the case, we might have found it difficult to fit the pram in. Even if there was room, it would have felt cramped and we might have worried about the baby being jogged. As it was, there was not a rush on and there was ample room for all of us.

15 minutes (or less) later and we were shown to our table, at the back of the ground floor in a booth - plenty of room for baby's pram.

Throughout the meal the staff seemed to be mindful of Eve. They were very good about not leaning over the pram with steaming hot plates of food balanced precariously on their trembling hands and remembered to ask us if we needed anything for her.

Jamie's is, of course, a noisy place and despite it not being rammed full on the day we visited it was still hard to hear someone on the table opposite at times. Usually, you wouldn't even notice this but with a baby in tow I was mindful of the noise. Luckily Eve slept right through the meal so the noise either isn't actually a problem or we have an angelic baby! Just something to beware of.

Jamie's made for a pleasant excursion and a memorable first restaurant meal with our baby.

Recommended at quieter times.

The maternity ward at the Royal Sussex County Hospital, Brighton

Please note that this blog entry (as well as previous entries) is based on our experience of NHS services at the Royal Sussex, not private healthcare.

If the care and service in the delivery suites at the Royal Sussex County Hospital was beyond professional – my wife's experience of the maternity ward on the 12th floor was disappointingly average.

That's not to say it was unprofessional or particularly poor. Far from it. But following such an overwhelmingly positive experience on the 13th floor, the care and attention on the ward below was glaringly functional.

First off, the temperature, for obvious reasons, is kept incredibly hot. So much so that my wife knew instantly that she would not be able to sleep. This was immediately stressful following her labour, delivery and aftercare. Moreover, the maternity ward seems to be full of four-bed rooms, meaning that if your own newborn doesn't wake you up, there is a strong chance someone else's will.

In my wife's case, both the temperature combined with three noisy neighbours (not their fault, of course) made for a sleepless night. This was exacerbated by her struggles to breastfeed and the general insecurities that come with being a new mum. By the time I arrived back at the hospital in the morning, my wife was exhausted and emotional.

With that in mind, we wanted to get her home as soon as possible. However, the team on the 12th floor would not allow us to leave unless my wife could demonstrate her ability to breastfeed. I'm not sure how crucial this is, given the fact that babies can be fed formula if breastfeeding fails; but I'll give the NHS the benefit of the doubt here – I guess it is sensible to see if a woman can breastfeed and offer her tips and advice if this is failing.

The problem is that my wife was so tired and it was still so hot in the room, that she was becoming more and more agitated and less and less likely to be able to breastfeed properly. It felt like we were trapped there unless my wife could 'perform'.

Every time we asked to leave, we were told my wife would need to be checked on her breastfeeding skills. We would wait 45mins and no-one would come to check (clearly, the nurses are very hard-working and I do not doubt they would be much more attentive given the right resources) – during which time my wife would have fed the baby, so by the time someone arrived the baby wasn't interested and the whole process would start again.

I arrived at 9am to take my wife home, and we eventually left at about 3-4pm. We were both tired and stressed by the situation but I guess we felt as though the team had our baby's best interests at heart. The staff were always polite and kind and did offer helpful tips – it was just that my wife was too exhausted to really care. Also, my wife was fed well and there was always water on offer and the level of care was decent.

Due to the delays, I long overstayed the visiting hours and the staff, to their credit, did not give me any hassle. In typically masculine (and reductive) fashion, I may well have told them where to go if they had; but luckily the situation didn't arise. There was one wobble when I had to nip down to the car to put more money in the meter and asked prior to leaving if I would get back in – I was told it would be fine. But when I got back up the tower, a different nurse told me I couldn't enter as it wasn't visiting hours– she backed down when I said I was taking my baby home (at that point this was by no means guaranteed, but there was no way I wasn't getting back to my wife).

Nothing that happened on the maternity ward was enough to take the shine off our whole experience. It's just that if you are staying overnight on the maternity ward, expect just that – a typical NHS ward experience. Compared to the sterling efforts of the midwives one floor up, this seems more of a disappointment than it should.

Finally: Dads, the same parking issues apply when you are picking your child up as when you are taking your wife to give birth. I guess the four-hour parking meters on the streets running south from Eastern Road are even more handy if you are guaranteed a swift exit. If not, you may well have to put more money in the meter or move your car. As always, if there are spaces in the hospital car park, go for it. Park as close as you can, as the car-seat with baby can get heavy after a while. If you have a car-seat that fits onto the pram, then put the baby in the seat, attach it to the pram and wheel the whole lot from the ward to the car – I forgot to do this and was knackered by the time I got the car-seat back to our vehicle on Eaton Place.

The same issue about people smoking at the foot of the tower at the car park exit hold true. You will be carrying your newborn child past people smoking where they shouldn't and it is disgusting, inconsiderate and offensive. There is little point asking them to stop – there are usually five or six smokers and they are already smoking in an area with prominent “No Smoking” signs on display. Moreover, who knows what health- or family-related issues these smokers are trying to deal with? Rather than challenge them, it seems sensible to pressure the Royal Sussex to actually enforce their No Smoking policy and/or provide somewhere else for smokers to gather.

I might blog a bit more on this topic. Not necessarily smoking per se, but that and the many other moments of inconsideration that you battle on a daily basis when you have a baby – (NB, this blog has now been written).

Having a baby at the Royal Sussex County Hospital, Brighton

Here's a quick summary of what you can expect based on my experience with my wife at the Royal Sussex four weeks ago.

The quick solution to the parking problem is to do a recce long beforehand. Drive around the hospital to get your bearings and check out the roads nearby – there are plenty of spaces with 4-hour parking meters within easy walking distance on Eaton Place, Chesham Street, Sudeley Place and other roads heading south from Eastern Road. You'll be aiming for the 12th and 13th floor of the Thomas Kemp tower (where the delivery rooms and maternity wards are), so I found it best to park on Eaton Place whenever visiting the hospital. It means you can walk straight across Eastern Road and up Bristol Gate, then take a left into the hospital. If you cut across A&E, up the stairs on the right and continue up the ramp where cars go to park, you'll be able to access the tower lifts immediately. I found this much quicker than going into the main hospital entrance on Eastern Road and navigating all the various corridors and lifts of the hospital buildings themselves. (If you remember, this is not the case for the scan department, where you'll want to be closer to the main entrance.)

One gripe here is that, despite lots of 'No Smoking' signs at the bottom of the tower, there are always handfuls of people smoking cigarettes. I find it disgusting that people smoke in the exact areas people will be passing through with their newborn babies – and awful that the hospital allows them to do so.

On the day in question, I have to confess that my wife and I were dropped off by my mother-in-law, who stayed long enough to confirm that my wife was definitely in labour and not going anywhere, before driving back home and leaving us to it. I do recommend this option as it means you don't have to worry about parking at all until after the birth (you can get a bus or taxi home from hospital after the delivery, to get your car).

So, to the birthing experience. My wife had painless contractions on the Saturday night. By 3am on Sunday morning they had become uncomfortable. I was reluctant to ring in at that time, (being all blokey I was worried about what to say) so my wife rang in – we weren't yet ready to come in, though staff on the phone were patient, kind and helpful. We went for a walk along the seafront, had a snack and then rang in again as the contractions were slightly more uncomfortable – still not time. We had a roast dinner, and contractions became more powerful, though still not particularly regular (sometimes there were three in 10 minutes, other times three in 20 minutes). By 5pm, we'd had enough and went to the hospital.

The midwife we encountered on the 13th floor seemed mildly irritated that we hadn't rung in, but quickly found us a room to wait for someone to examine us. After about 50 minutes, a midwife came in to examine my wife, asking plenty of questions about contractions and our recent experience. After the exam, the midwife said: “Well, you're not going anywhere”. My wife was 4-5cms dliated.

We were looked after from 6pm-8pm by Laura, an exceptionally brilliant professional, who explained everything that she was doing throughout the earlier stages of my wife's labour. From 8pm, Laura began preparing for the shift change that would see us looked after by Kylie, a fantastic midwife who stayed with us from 8pm until our baby was born and during the immediate after-care. Both midwives were incredible and an asset to the Royal Sussex and the NHS.

The room my wife was initially examined in turned out to be the same room we would have our baby in (unless the birthing pool was available – see below). It had a fantastic view of the West pier, seafront, the Downs and beyond. We were allowed to move furniture around (within reason), set-up our battery-powered speakers and iPod, and place all the bags we needed.

My wife was monitored in between and during contractions and Laura happily looked at the birth plan we presented her with. My wife was offered a bath, which she took. She had also told Laura that she would like the birthing pool if it was available. There is only one pool at the RS – luckily it became free at about 9pm and my wife was delighted. We moved into the pool room and set-up our iPod and speakers there – at which point Kylie took over and we thanked Laura.

My wife immediately felt at home in the pool. The water soothed the pain of her contractions a little and generally helped to relax her. For me, the pool room was a bit more relaxing, though leaning over the pool itself was a little difficult on the back (I say this fully aware of the more severe discomfort experienced by my wife).

My wife's contractions became steadily more powerful and painful. She requested gas and air, which helped hugely initially but became less soothing as time wore on. Naturally, when the midwife was out of the room, I had a go on the gas and air and can report that it was indeed a little like being drunk, but wears off very quickly (I had two 'tokes'). The rest is a bit of a blur.

The main thing I put into practice from what I learnt at the NCT lessons, were positions to help soothe my wife, along with rubs and strokes. My wife really appreciated this, along with vocal encouragement and quiet echoes of what the midwife was telling her. Kylie was fantastic at helping my wife overcome a particularly strong contraction or one that brought along a new type of pain that scared her. I have to say, I failed to spot the 'transition stage', though later asked the midwife and she told me exactly when it happened: when my wife was asked about more pain relief.

At one point, my wife got out of the pool (I forget why) and the contractions she experienced out of the water were much stronger and more painful than those under the water. Once back in the pool, Kylie told my wife that if she wanted the next stage of pain relief (pethidine or an epidural), she would have to come back out of the water and stay out – this was indeed the 'transition stage'. The fact that she would have to get out of the water was enough to put my wife off so much that she vowed she wasn't ever coming out of the pool again until it was over.

Throughout the painful contractions, midwife Kylie was supportive, sensitive and empowering, offering precisely the right words and wisdom that helped my wife summon the strength to deliver the baby herself.

At 11.52pm, our daughter Eve was born in the pool and immediately placed onto my wife for skin-to-skin contact for about 10 minutes. I was permitted to cut the cord and then I was given the baby while my wife received some immediate aftercare outside of the pool.

This aftercare continued back in the original delivery room we had been allocated and, if I have one gripe, it is that I was not initially told how long this would take. I was asked to wait outside by my wife. At one point, an orange light that looked like an emergency light came on and another midwife rushed into the room. Naturally, I was terrified and suffered a traumatic 10 minutes until the guy came out, saw my expression, and assured me everything was fine.

That said, I cannot fault the professionals on the 13th floor at the Royal Sussex. My wife had a relatively easy labour (in comparison to many women), and while I attribute much of this to my wife's attitude and willingness to do Yoga and learn about hypno-birthing and other forms of self-support; much of her positive experience and outcome I put down to the work of Laura and Kylie, midwives par excellence at the Royal Sussex. Thanks very much.

I will write a further blog on the maternity ward experience, where my wife stayed the night after our daughter was born.