[Cornwall] Youtube Helps Man Deliver Baby

suggested by Lewis, re-posted from BBC News

Youtube Helps Man Deliver Baby, 05/01/09

An engineer in Cornwall delivered his baby son after watching a instructional video on YouTube.

Marc Stephens watched the videos as a precaution when his wife Jo started to feel some discomfort.

Four hours later, his wife went into labour and started giving birth before an ambulance could arrive at their home in Redruth.

"I Googled how to deliver a baby, watched a few videos and basically swotted up," Mr Stephens told the BBC.

Jo Stephens said they had planned a home birth, but not quite in this manner.

"I woke up and realised I was having contractions every five minutes," Mrs Stephens said.

"I woke Marc up and we phoned the midwife, but they were all so busy they couldn't come round to our house and told us to call an ambulance. But before it arrived, it all started."

A few hours earlier, Mr Stephens has been reading up on home births and how to cope with anything unexpected.

"The videos gave me peace of mind. I think I would have coped, but watching videos made things much easier."

Mr Stephens said his wife was on all fours when he saw the head starting to come out.

"This is our fourth child now and while for our first I spent most of the time at my wife's head, now I'm not afraid to go down to the business end.

"I was still on the phone to the midwife and told her that 'this is it'," he said.

Mr Stephens said he felt no panic, putting his ability to stay calm down to his Royal Navy training.

After delivering the 5lbs 5oz boy, Gabriel, the Stephens went to the Royal Cornwall Hospital at Treliske, where both mother and baby got a clean bill of health.

[Amy Tan] Saying Thanks To My Ghosts

re-posted from NPR: "This I Believe"

Saying Thanks To My Ghosts, 04/26/09
By Amy Tan

I didn't used to believe in ghosts, but I was trained to talk to them. My mother reminded me many times that I had the gift. It all stemmed from a lie I told when I was 4. The way my mother remembered it, I refused to get ready for bed one night, claiming there was a ghost in the bathroom. She was delighted to learn I was a spirit medium.

Thereafter, she questioned anything unusual — a sudden gust of wind, a vase that fell and shattered. She would ask me, "She here?" She meant my grandmother.

When I was a child, my mother told me that my grandmother died in great agony after she accidentally ate too much opium. My mother was 9 years old when she watched this happen.

When I was 14, my older brother was stricken with a brain tumor. My mother begged me to ask my grandmother to save him. When he died, she asked me to talk to him as well. "I don't know how," I protested. When my father died of a brain tumor six months after my brother, she made me use a Ouija board. She wanted to know if they still loved her. I spelled out the answer I knew she wanted to hear: Yes. Always.

When I became a fiction writer in my 30s, I wrote a story about a woman who killed herself eating too much opium. After my mother read a draft of that story, she had tears in her eyes. Now she had proof: My grandmother had talked to me and told me her true story. How else could I have known my grandmother had not died by accident but with the fury of suicide? She asked me, "She here now?" I answered honestly, "I don't know."

Over the years, I have included other details in my writing I could not possibly have known on my own: a place, a character, a song. I have come to feel differently about my ghostwriters. Sometimes their clues have come so plentifully, they've made me laugh like a child who can't open birthday presents fast enough. I must say thanks, not to blind luck but to my ghosts.

Ten years ago, I clearly saw a ghost, and she talked to me. It was my mother. She had died just 24 hours before. Her face was 10 times larger than life, in the form of a moving, pulsing hologram of sparkling lights. My mother was laughing at my surprise. She drew closer, and when she reached me, I felt as if I had been physically punched in the chest. It took my breath away and filled me with something absolute: love, but also joy and peace — and with that, understanding that love and joy and peace are all the same thing. Joy comes from love. Peace comes from love. "Now you know," my mother said.

I believe in ghosts. Whenever I want, they will always be there: my mother, my grandmother, my ghosts.