Mother and baby are reported to be doing fine!

As journalists, we strive to always find the most interesting, if not the most scandalous scoop, to parlay to the people. Sometimes, we go to the extreme and risk life and limb even.

And so it was for me when I decided to embark on this particular story of which I am about to tell to you right now (if you decide to read further).

A month ago, I had gotten a tip from a source (a very trusted one) that there was one woman who had been in labour for approximately eight months.

This excited me. Firstly, it was because it was a woman. Secondly, it was because she was pregnant. But most importantly, at eight months, we could probably tell the sex of the baby!

I staked out at the private hospital in Damansara, and I could not stop from peeing myself when I heard the news. It was going to be either a boy or girl! Amazing!

I snapped a couple of pictures of the front lobby entrance of the hospital with people milling about going in and out for the cover and smiled happily.

Over the next few week, I immersed myself in research, trying to familiarise myself with this mystery called pregnancy and delivery.

There were several facts that caught me unaware. Apparently, when a man and a woman get together, the birds and the bees are some how involved in helping them obtain a baby.

I also found out that during delivery, the mother actually goes into an uncomfortable labour period that could take hours. The delivery itself is also said to be a relatively painful experience for all women.

I felt fortunate to be able to experience such secondary research data first hand and immediately felt responsible and obligated to disseminate this information to the public for the good of society.

Three weeks had gone by then and suddenly, my very trusted source contacted me saying that a speeding car driven by man with a woman in the back seat had rushed into the hospital grounds.

This was it, I thought to myself. This was what all that training and sacrifice has led to. Time to shine and let my natural journalistic instincts take over.

I rushed to the hospital. But by the time I got there, I discovered that I had, unfortunately, lost the phone number of my trusted source. How was I to locate the mother in labour now?

In desperation, I had to make a call. Should I just stake out or take a gamble and rush to another hospital in hope that another woman could be in labour somewhere else?

I decided to take a risk and rushed to the government hospital in Sungai Buluh. It was the most nerve-wrecking decision I had ever made.

But I had to thank my lucky stars! Lo and behold! There was another woman in that hospital who had gone in to labour as well! In fact, there were ten of them! I couldn't believe my luck!

I immediately called the editors at the newsdesk with the good news and that we have a scoop! I could hear the cheers of jubilation in the background.

I waited in the hospital's maternity ward and after 12 hours and a couple of dozen cups of instant coffee from the vending machine, I looked a wreck. But the news was finally in.

The baby had been delivered by a doctor and both mother and child are doing fine. It’s a bouncing baby boy! And I am happy to report that with decent care, the baby is expected to grow up.

Now, its time to sit back and wait for that Pulitzer to come calling. I wouldn't even mind it's second best alternative - the MPI-Petronas Journalism Award.