Previous birth very medicalised and monitored one, epidural, internal version and forceps.

It is 5 am and I am awake, no contractions and after two days of early labour I can’t help feeling disappointed. I rise and wee and feel my belly confirming my thoughts from the previous evening, that the baby’s head, which was down only yesterday morning has moved up from my pelvis and she is floating oblique with her head up. Back in bed I shed a small tear of frustration before pulling myself together and reminding myself that it will work out, she will do what she needs to do when the time comes.

I fall back to sleep and wake at 6.45, my belly still and quiet. Feeling disappointed again, I lie there collecting my thoughts and focusing on the positive, visualising her head down again and telling myself she’ll turn either before or during labour and we’ll be back into it in a day or so. I get up and have a hot shower, and wham – the contractions return and return hard. I stay in the shower for a two or three and then decide I need to time them and possibly call the midwife. They are 3 minutes apart and strong. I call Cindy at 7.25 and we decide to wait for an hour to see if they recede or escalate. I call back at 7.45 and tell her it is definitely it and call my mother, JoJo who is going to look after Bonnie and Freya during the birth. During the breaks in the contractions I knead some sourdough I had fermenting and put it in tins ready to bake, then John and I hurry upstairs, the girls excitedly following to make the bed with double sheets and plastic, put plastic on the floor and start filling the birth pool. I breathe hard through the contractions, which are intensifying to the point that I am having trouble staying focused on the job and being productive. Bonnie and Freya leap around like monkeys, very happy that something is happening and they are a part of it.

I ask John to take the girls downstairs to give me some space and quiet as I can no longer handle their noise and activity. After about half an hour JoJo arrives and takes the girls and John comes upstairs to me. While he corrects the temperature of the birth pool Cindy (mw) tries to call but her mobile keeps dropping out – I hear “I have just been held up at an accident” and the phone drops out. It rings again and drops again. Rings again in five minutes and she is standing on the bonnet of her car to get a signal – I tell her it is all definitely all happening, she replies that she will be here in about an hour and a half. Just as I hang up, there is a pop and my waters break. I try to ring back but she is out of range and will be until she gets here – we are around the dark side of the moon. I suppress a twinge of concern that the labour may progress quickly now.

With the temperature corrected, I climb gratefully into the birth pool with John’s help and feel instant relief from the water. I lie back and breathe gently through a couple of very strong contractions. Then I feel something on my vulva. I reach down and feel a bumpy lump, like a little cauliflower, which curls and retracts at my touch. Oh my God, I think with wonder. My baby. My baby’s toes.

I take it in for a minute or so, gathering my thoughts – my first thought is of my mother who birthed my eldest brother breech and premature. After I have comprehended the foot, I search my mind for the crux of my readings about breech birthing – I know I have to resist the urge to push, to stay slow and calm to ensure that my cervix has time to open fully before the head arrives, I remember that I have eight minutes between birthing the belly button and the baby’s breathing reflex being triggered and I count my blessings that I am in water and she can choose her pace, suspended in the 37 degree temperature that will buy us time if we need it. Most importantly I focus on calming myself and maintaining my sense of safety and security. Then I say “John, I have just given birth to a foot” and I think I even smile. I continue to hold the foot – my baby, in between worlds. John and I spend a quiet moment letting it sink in then the contractions ramp up another notch. After two I think of Yo, a midwife friend in QLD, and ask John to call Shell for her number.

Yo is wonderful, reassuring and backs up everything that I remember from my reading about breech births, John thanks her and we get back to it. I find I want to roll onto my knees. After another 3 or 4 huge contractions during which I vocalise strongly to divert the enormous desire to bear down, I can no longer resist the amazing and uncontrollable urge to push and my body seizes the wave and pushes and pushes. The pain relief from the pushing is wonderful – until the slow painful crowning of her plump little bottom, which pops into the water. Instinctively I feel around and hook my finger in the crook of her knee to flick the foot out of my vagina. I feel her with both hands and am so overcome with the miracle of it all – two legs and a bottom, floating in the water. I ask John to call Yo again and tell her that her bottom has birthed, she directs us to feel the cord, which is pulsing strongly. The next few contractions are wild with pain and I continue to counsel myself to remain calm, open and relaxed, which takes all my focus as every move she makes is agonising on my cervix. John remains reassuring and loving, constantly encouraging.

I instinctively tip on my side and lift my right leg to make more room and with the next contraction she births to her armpits. It is now excruciatingly painful even resting between contractions as she wiggles and writhes. I can feel her arms twisting in my cervix. Another contraction and the arms and shoulders come. John supports her body in a straight line with my spine under the water and Yo encourages us by telling us how perfect her presentation is. I pass through any niggling fears of the possibility that I am not dilated enough to birth her head and focus on being open and relaxed. I tell myself that our little girl is coming, and is as focused as her mother is on this last stage of our journey.

The next contraction takes a little longer to come but when it does my body rises like the tide again and the overwhelming push births her head through my cervix and free of my body. Her plump little body floats to the bottom of the pool. I reach down and scoop her up, her little cheek in my hand and body draped over my arm, my little frog. She slowly writhes and mewls, as she continues her gentle transfer from her dark red world to our sunlit one.

John passes me a towel and we cover her to keep her warm and rub her back. He then rushes outside to call in our two daughters and my mother. The girls gallop up the stairs and greet Saskia with great excitement; my mother follows in tears of pure joy, her face just radiating. We then focus on keeping the babe and myself warm and waiting for the placenta. The water, which has been clear til now begins to darken… and darken… and I expel some massive clots. We call Yo again for some advice while I stimulate my nipples, encourage Saskia to suckle and take some deep drafts of Clary Sage. After twenty minutes we decide to get me out of the bath, which we manage. Ten minutes and a fair bit more blood later, Cindy arrives, to our relief and gets to work as my blood pressure has fallen to 80/40. John takes Saskia and the girls out of the room with Jo. I can’t urinate so Cindy catheterises me quickly to empty my bladder then removes it and helps me to stand up to assist the delivery of the placenta. I try but collapse in a faint on the floor. I can hear the slight tension in her voice as Cindy calls me back to consciousness and I rally everything I have to leave the painless dark. John returns with Saskia and he and Cindy assist me back onto the bed and into a squat and I manage to find a big contraction and expel the placenta. China homeopathics revive me quickly and Shepherds Purse greatly assists with the bleeding, as well as Saskia’s vigorous feeding. My blood pressure slowly climbs back up, the bleeding stabilises. We’ve done it.

My mother-in-law arrives and the room is filled with grandmothers and children and an ecstatic daddy. There is love, comfort, mutual admiration. It is perfect. After a while they all drift out of the room except for Cindy. She examines me – the first time anyone has touched or seen my vagina besides myself and John since my internal ultrasound at 8 weeks. Then she examines Saskia. She is perfect, a plump 8lb 7oz, happy term baby.

I am just flabbergasted at how undamaged I am and she is. No tearing, no bruising, I can even squeeze my pelvic floor! No trauma, no fear, no bullying, no melodrama. No dislocation, no separation. Just harmony, gentleness and trust.

Thank you Cindy, for assisting me on this journey, and having perfect timing. I have been honoured to have you light my way. Thank you Yo, for your support, love and excitement during our moment in the sun. Thank you John, for being the person you are and sharing this amazing journey with me, you are a wonderful partner and I love you so much. Thank you Saskia, for your determination to do it your way, you have taught me so much in a very short time.