I had my first son, Kiran, in a hospital in Germany in 2002. Although a drug-free, vaginal birth, his birth was very far removed from how I had envisioned and hoped that it would be. It was a very stressful and traumatic event for me and I suffered from birth trauma which took years to resolve.

I knew immediately that I wanted to have a home water birth if I had a complication-free pregnancy. I decided to meet with my local NHS midwife for a preliminary chat to find out about her attitudes towards homebirth. When I met Julie at my house for my initial 8 week “booking in” appointment, I immediately knew that I could trust her. Julie and I shared a belief in the inherent knowledge and wisdom in women’s bodies.

I had read all the classics on natural birth: Birth Reborn: What Childbirth Should Be by Michel Odent, Childbirth Without Fear by Grantly Dick-Read, Birth Without Violence by Frederic Leboyer, Spiritual Midwifery and Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin, Conscious Conception and Prenatal Yoga & Natural Birth by Jeannine Parvati Baker, Birthing from Within by Pam England, Stand and Deliver!:  And Other Brilliant Ways to Give Birth by Emma Mahony and Unassisted Childbirth by Laura Shanley. I had all the theoretical knowledge and an intellectual belief in the ability of a woman’s body to give birth naturally, gently and easily. But, with the traumatic events of Kiran’s birth still lingering in every cell in my body, I knew that I’d have to go beyond an intellectual belief and understanding of the birthing process. To this end, I decided to do a hypnobirthing course. I ordered the HypBirth home study course and when I was 18 weeks I started listening to the CDs every day. I also watched the DVDs and was greatly encouraged by the film clips of women in late labour, without any signs of pain or distress, giving birth joyfully. I faithfully did the lessons, listening to the CDs and practising the techniques almost every day for the rest of my pregnancy. When I reached 38 weeks, I started to feel bigger and more uncomfortable. I became restless and impatient. I had never gone into natural labour with Kiran, so at the back of my mind I had some anxiety whether my body would be able to initiate labour on its own. I started trying several natural techniques for proper positioning of the baby and labour induction, such as taking brisk walks, eating spicy foods, bouncing up and down on my birthing ball, and taking Evening Primrose Oil capsules and the homeopathic remedy Caulophyllum 6.  At my 38 week appointment, the baby’s head was 3/5 engaged. The days went by and I felt the baby’s head drop lower into my pelvis but nothing else seemed to be happening. At 39 weeks I started to lose my mucous plug. I started to get excited, thinking I was getting close but, although I kept losing bits of my plug for the rest of the week and felt the odd contraction (tightening sensation in my lower abdomen) nothing else seemed to change. At my 40 week appointment, on my due date 4^th November 2008 (the day Barack Obama was elected as president of the United States!), Julie found the baby 4/5 engaged which meant that only a small part of the head was still palpable above the pubic bone and my belly measured 41 weeks, which on the weight chart (adjusted to my height and weight) translated to 4250g (9lbs 6oz). I was so disappointed to learn that the baby wasn’t even fully engaged yet. I felt huge and uncomfortable and ready to give birth any minute, but it didn’t seem to be happening. The next morning (Wednesday) I woke up to a bloody show, which lasted the whole day and following night. When I went to pick up my son from school that afternoon, one of the other mums commented that I seemed to have “really dropped”. I felt a continuous pressure of my pelvic floor and my pubic bone. That night, I experienced a few sharp contractions that were forceful enough to wake me but they were irregular and I was too tired to pay much attention to them. The next morning, Thursday 6^th November 2008, I had the last bit of my bloody show which had gone on for the past 24 hours. I knew that losing my mucous plug meant that my cervix was opening which gave me hope. With Kiran, my cervix had stayed closed and 0% effaced right up to the induction when he was a week overdue. I was now 2 days “overdue”. I waited all day for the contractions to pick up but there just seemed to be a few niggles, hardly any stronger than Braxton-Hicks contractions and not at all regular. When afternoon came and I was again on my way to school with a big belly I felt immensely frustrated. I knew there would be lots of comments on my “still-pregnant” state and I was getting very tired and weary. As I stood watching my son having his after-school play on the school’s wooden play structure, I felt so ready to give birth, physically and mentally. But as nothing had been happening all day, I let go of the idea that today would be the day. On the way home from school, I felt a rush of determination and had an internal chat with the baby. I said: “Right, baby, this is the last time I’m doing this trip with you on the inside. I’m ready to meet you. The next school run I’m doing with you in my arms, not in my belly.”

Kiran and I arrived home at 4pm. I made him a snack and sat down to do his reading homework with him. I was having irregular contractions but they weren’t painful and I was resigned to the thought that today would just be a replay of yesterday – lots of action, no baby. A small part of me was still holding on to the belief that my body didn’t know how to go into labour on its own. Around 5 pm the contractions seemed to be coming more regularly. I timed them at around 10 minutes apart, and lasting about 20 to 30 second each time. I could still talk through them though and they weren’t painful, I just felt a sense of tightening and pressure in my lower abdomen. I decided to bounce on my birthing ball and do a few yoga poses to help my body along and maybe increase the frequency of the contractions. At around 6.30pm the contractions were coming regularly at 8 minutes apart. I decided to phone Charlie at work. He was just finishing up with his graphic design project for the day and had a drum lesson booked for the next hour. He was about 45 minutes away in Glastonbury, Somerset. When he asked me whether he should cancel the drum lesson and come home straight away, I felt a strong contraction. Still not quite believing that this was the real thing and anticipating a long, all-night labour (as I had experienced with Kiran) I told him to go ahead and do the lesson. I decided to start filling the pool. We had set up a La Bassine birth pool in our kitchen and created a “birthing space” with an essential oil burner, candles and Gemstone Birth Charm Angels in Rose Quartz, Amethyst, Snow Quartz, Pale Green Jade, Labradorite and Violet Fluorite. The temperature had to be between 35-37C for labour and exactly 37C for giving birth. Charlie and I had done a few test runs in the weeks before. It had always been a challenge to fill the pool with enough hot water to ensure a high enough temperature and today was no different. Today of all days our hot water reservoir seemed to be low and the water coming out of the tap was tepid, not boiling hot as it usually is. I called Charlie back and told him about my problems with filling the pool. I suddenly felt very restless and irritable. Charlie must have sensed that something serious was going on because he walked in the door at 7.15 pm, a full hour earlier than I had expected him. He had cut his drum lesson short. I was incredibly relieved to see him and suddenly felt that everything was going to be alright. Charlie could look after the practical aspects of the birth (filling the pool and keeping it topped up with enough hot water, ensuring the room temperature was 25C, preparing the birthing space) and I could focus on my body and its sensations. By now, the contractions were coming regularly at 8 minutes apart and lasting 30 seconds each time. Just then, my mum phoned from Germany. We have a chat on the phone every night. She knew that I’d been having contractions since yesterday and was anxious to hear how I was getting on. I told her that the contractions were now coming regularly at 8 minutes apart, but that I still didn’t think that I was really in labour. She insisted that I call my midwife and ask her to come over. I finally gave in and called Julie. I told her that the contractions were regular and 8 minutes apart but that I didn’t think I was really in labour yet. Julie was just having her dinner and asked me if it was okay if she finished it before coming over. I told her: “Of course. You’ll probably just tell me I’m hallucinating anyway and that I’m nowhere near having this baby!” I was convinced that I was maybe 2cm dilated at the most and that I certainly wasn’t going to have the baby any time soon. Julie seemed to think differently however because she finished her dinner in record time and arrived at my house at 7.40pm. By now the contractions were coming every 5 minutes. Charlie was busy filling the pool. He had two water cookers plus four saucepans with boiling water on the go at all times. The pool was big and took a long time to fill but we were slowly getting there. Julie asked me if I wanted an examination. I knew that I shouldn’t really get into the pool until I was 6 or 7 cm dilated in order not to slow down an early labour. The water looked very inviting and I wanted to know how much longer I’d have to wait until I could get in so I asked her to check how far dilated I was. When Julie examined me she gave me a big, encouraging smile and said: “Your cervix is anterior, in a very favourable position. Your 100% effaced and… I’d say about 6-7cm dilated.” I couldn’t quite take it in at first. I’d never even dilated half a centimetre with Kiran. I was exuberant. My body could really do this! I was doing this!

I kept repeating the affirmations from the HypBirth course in my mind: “Your body is made to do this. Just let your body take charge. Go with the flow. Relax. Trust in the body’s inherent wisdom.” Every time a contraction came, I’d gently sway, breathe deeply and let the sensations wash over me without any resistance or fear. Every contraction was bringing me closer to holding my baby. Instead of resisting them, I welcomed each contraction. It was now 8.30, the pool was filled and the contractions were 2 to 3 minutes apart. I was still laughing and joking with Julie and Charlie and wasn’t experiencing any pain. I had put Kiran to bed before Julie arrived but he heard us laughing and chatting in the kitchen and came downstairs to see what all the fuss was about. He realized that the baby was on its way and he insisted that he wanted to stay and observe the birth. He had watched many DVDs of home births and water births with me and was incredibly excited. I had resisted going into the pool up to now because I didn’t want to slow down a labour that was progressing so well but at around 8.45pm, with the contractions coming forcefully and frequently, I finally undressed and got into the soothing warm water. At first, I was floating between the contractions, having fun and laughing a lot with the others. It was dark outside, we had lit some candles and the halogen heater was radiating a soft, golden light. There was a lovely, intimate, protective atmosphere in the room. I was floating in the warm water and enjoying myself. Around 9.30, the contractions started to pick up in pace. They seemed to be coming almost without a break. I had a few very strong ones. Every time one came, I flipped over onto my belly, held on to the side of the pool and had a good stretch. This position felt the most comfortable to me. Every time I was floating on my back or sitting, the contractions felt more intense so I soon spent all my time floating on my belly, holding on to the side of the pool for support. At 9.45pm the contractions were coming one on top of the other, and I could hardly catch my breath. I was starting to feel overwhelmed and highly sensitive. I didn’t want to be touched or spoken to. I went completely inside myself, deep down, and was completely focussed on the sensations in my body. I felt a great urge to focus and concentrate. All my mental and physical energy was directed at my womb. When I told Julie that I felt the urge to push, she quickly called the second midwife who was scheduled to help her deliver the baby. After the birth, one midwife is assigned to take care of the mother and the other midwife looks after the baby. I now felt an overwhelming urge to bear down. My body knew exactly what to do. My conscious mind was witnessing events as an external observer. This was a primal, physical process. Any interference, touch, speech, anything that directed energy outside of myself, felt painful and intrusive. My senses were heightened. I was completely focused within, and felt a tremendous surge of power. I was in transition.

I was on my knees, holding on to the wall of the pool for support. In this position, I started to bear down. The urge to push became overwhelming. My breath came in short, quick gasps. Julie kept reminding me to “slow down, push gently”. At this moment, gentle and slow seemed completely impossible. I felt a huge, all-encompassing rush of energy shooting through my body. I bore down again, trying to breathe as slowly as I could. Suddenly, I felt a gush of water shooting from my body at high pressure. My waters had broken. It was a liberating sensation. With the next strong contraction, I again felt a strong urge to bear down and just when contraction began ebbing away, I felt an opening and a stinging sensation, then a release and an absence of pressure. My son’s head had been born. I heard gasps of amazement, surprise and joy. Charlie and Kiran were at the side of the pool facing my back. They had the best view of their son and brother emerging into the world. Julie was by my head, encouraging me and telling me what was going on as I couldn’t see for myself. There seemed to be a long pause, a quiescence of time in which everything was suspended. I waited for another contraction to come and carry my son’s body out into the warm water and into this world. After about 30 seconds of complete stillness, I felt another rush of energy and a forceful ripple went through my body. The contraction built up slowly and I witnessed it building up and finally rushing over me, expelling my son’s body. 9.50pm. Elias has entered the world.

We decided to name him Elias Constantin Raphael. His middle names reflect the attributes and the journey we had been on in order to welcome Elias into our family. Constantin refers to constancy, a virtue that has been very important in my life: never give up, keep going, if you stumble get back up and try again. Raphael means “God has healed” and Raphael is the Archangel of Healing. Elias, and the journey to get him here, has manifested healing in our lives.

Kiran later told me that he came out with a peaceful expression on his face, eyes closed, just floating in the warm water, suspended in time. Then he flipped a somersault under water and was picked up by his father. Stunned, I slowly began to realize what had just happened. My baby was here. I could finally hold him, see him, smell him, touch him. He was placed on my chest, umbilical cord still attached and I just gazed at him in wonderment. I couldn’t believe he was here. Everything had happened so quickly. I felt peaceful, joyful, serene and deeply grateful. Ten minutes after the birth, I felt another contraction and birthed the placenta. I was still sitting in the pool with Elias snuggled against my chest. I had birthed the baby, Charlie had caught the baby and I felt that Julie should now cut the cord. That way, a circle was created that included all three of us in the birthing process. I felt that Julie’s help, encouragement and belief in me had been an essential element in this blissful birth. After the placenta was born and the cord was cut, I decided to get out of the pool. When I got out, there was a large gush of blood. Julie decided to give me syntometrine to stop the excessive bleeding. I was fine with that and soon after she gave me the shot the bleeding calmed down. Julie then checked me for tears. I had a second-degree tear which we decided to let heal naturally as it was straight and tidy. Today, just 12 days later, it has completely healed without any pain. Just when Julie was examining me in the hallway, the second midwife arrived at the door, twenty minutes after Elias’s arrival. She went into the sitting room together with Charlie, where they weighed and dressed Elias. He weighed in at 4460g (9lbs 13oz), measured 56cm (22 inches) and had a 37.5cm head. I went up to the bedroom, had a quick shower and lay down in my own bed. Elias was brought to me and we cuddled and he had his first feed. He knew what to do straight away. It was bliss to be in my own home, in my own bed, cuddling my beautiful newborn boy. Kiran came in and joined us for a cuddle. When I asked him what he thought of the birth, he said: “Mama, that was so cool.” He was a bit worried by my bleeding initially but when he saw me completely at ease with it, he had a quick think and then said: “Blood is life. It’s fine.” The midwives left at 11.30pm and all four of us had a cuddle and then went to sleep in our king-sized bed. It was pure bliss and I was so grateful.

I credit the HypnoBirth course, together with the at-home setting, the relaxing warm water and the feeling of empowerment and control I had with creating the fantastic, almost pain-free birth experience I had. It all felt completely natural and organic and my body knew what to do. Elias’s birth was an amazing, empowering and inspiring experience which fills me with the greatest joy and the deepest gratitude.

Well… I surely did have our little Mia at home, but I forgot all about the beer crates…

Discovering I was pregnant was a complete surprise, but a truly delightful one. We would never have planned to become pregnant at the exact time we did but I still feel blessed every single day that we just became pregnant without needing to work at it. I know so many people who have travelled a much more difficult journey to find that little seed planted in their bellies; and enough also who never experienced that joy. I arrived in Dublin when I was about 6 weeks pregnant. We adjusted to this new reality in our lives and at about 10 weeks into my pregnancy I decided to start finding out about how birthing works in Ireland. I phoned the Coombe and asked how to go about meeting my attending midwife. They told me to make an appointment, which I did, and I remember the creepy feeling I got when I was sitting in the waiting area. The word for hospital in Dutch is “Ziekenhuis” which, directly translated, means Home for the Sick. I wasn’t sick! What the heck was I doing in a hospital?? And all the new-mothers were walking around in dressing gowns, some holding IVs, and I felt so out of place. Having no private insurance in Ireland I was sitting in a long long long queue waiting to meet a consultant. When I met the man and told him I was planning a home birth I was promptly told that I was an irresponsible mother. He would never allow his wife to have a home birth. I took great offence to the man using the words ‘allow’ and ‘wife’ in the same sentence and even greater offense at the intended judgement of my wishes. Seeing as I had already queued for 2 hours, I decided to have my bloods done by the midwife anyway. I left The Coombe in a state of shock. Why was what seemed so normal and natural to me treated as something so alien and strange here?

As soon as I got home, I googled “Home Birth in Ireland” and found the HBA website. I called all three midwives to no avail and then left a message with Trish Cronnelly. At this stage I was in a total panic and in tears. Trish called me back and said I was possibly too late to find an available midwife. Whaaaaaaaaat??!! I managed to get in touch with all three midwives and, guess what, none of them were available for my due month as they already had women on their books and my dates were also slap bang in the middle of summer and that was holiday time. I was asked why I hadn’t called as soon as I knew I was pregnant? Because I didn’t know I had to of course!!

Who could I turn to then? I phoned Holles Street in a complete and utter mess, totally distraught. So distraught I couldn’t speak anymore and had to pass the phone to Paul who explained what I wanted and why I was so upset. The kindest kindest of midwives (I’m ashamed to say that I have forgotten her name) took it upon herself to phone each and every woman on the scheme due in June and July and, oh joy of joys, phoned me back to say that one of her ladies had moved down to Wexford and no longer needed their services and that I could have her place. I was delirious with joy!

I had a great pregnancy. Healthy, happy, loads of energy, no real complaints. Did pregnancy yoga, read the Birthing from Within, practiced my visualisation techniques, painted a lot, worked hard at our new start-up business, bought a new house in the heart of the Liberties, cleaned, scrubbed, painted, nested. Wonderful! Loved talking to my baby ‘bean’ as I called her (was convinced she would be a girl…!). Enjoyed all my visits to and from the midwives. Always full of questions. Oh, I was just soooo excited!

I was planning a water birth and had ordered my La Bassine pool from the UK. We had great fun blowing it up and giggling at the idea of having our baby in the water. Everyone who visited us during the last weeks was proudly shown the pool. Most of them thought we were MAD!

As my due date approached I started wondering, “how will I know I’m in labour?”. Nothing I read seemed to help me. I was just so curious. My due date came and went and my nesting urges became stronger and stronger. I was getting up at 5.30 each morning and baking fresh breads (to the delight of Paul)!

And then it happened. 3.15 in the morning and I woke with a start as I felt this strange curious tightening crampy feeling in my lower back. Yeouch! I couldn’t believe it. It had started! A few minutes later the next one came and, remembering Birthing From Within, I tried to follow the path of the pain and it was like an ever-widening circle of tension starting at my sacrum and spreading to the front of my tummy. Just like the big green wave I had painted the week before. I got up, wrote some romantic note to Paul and went downstairs to make myself something to eat (fresh homemade bread with sundried tomatoes and pine nuts with feta cheese and a cup of tea). Then I called Holles Street and spoke with my favourite midwife (Kate from Cork). I was so chatty, telling her how excited I was and what I had eaten and what I was thinking that she laughed and told me to go back to bed as I was far too chatty for any baby to be coming out any time soon. I didn’t heed her advice but made some laborade instead and then got behind my PC and did some work (we were working from home still at that point). Paul got up at some stage and knuckled down to work also. At around 10.30 I just couldn’t sit still anymore and found holding a business conversation too difficult as the contractions were still regular every 3 mins or so and getting more intense (they were regular right from the very first one that woke me up). Phoned Holles street again and wondered when someone was going to drop in. Was advised by Margaret who was on duty at that time to have a bath. I did but was feeling grumpy and felt that the midwives didn’t believe I was really in labour. Didn’t like the bath much and wanted to get out again quite soon. Just couldn’t get comfortable at all! Finally at around 12.45 a midwife turned up, examined me and gave me the wonderful news that I was doing great and my cervix was soft. “How many centimetres is that?” I asked. “Eh… none yet…” was the answer. How totally depressing! I was told that it would be a minimum of 12-24 hours before I would have my baby. Aaaargh! Phoned my mum in Belgium and told her it would be a while yet and that I was going to try and have a nap. And, believe it or not, nap I did. For about an hour and a half. Kneeling on the bed forwards with my arms crossed over my head on a pillow, of all positions! Woke up when the contractions got stronger. It was about 2.30 pm. Was feeling a bit restless so decided to walk up and down the stairs a few times, switched on the music downstairs (Love Me or Leave Me by Nina Simone – on repeat about 10 times). Was taking note of my contractions but this was proving to be a bit too much effort really. Paul came down at some stage and I asked him to time some contractions for me. They were coming on every minute and a half lasting over a minute each (!). I said that this couldn’t be right but that perhaps we should phone Holles Street to be sure. Spoke to Margaret again and was getting rather annoyed with her on the phone as she was asking me for directions to our house and i just felt like “I don’t have time for this nonsense!”. Shoved the phone into Paul’s hand and grumpily said something like “You talk to her, I can’t think straight!”.  I walked up the stairs and all I could think was “I can’t do this! Not for another 12-24 hours!”. I was getting hot flushes and had the strongest desire to go for a number two. Down the stairs again (I swear, I don’t know where I got the energy from! To walk up and down those stairs about 30 times that day, I wouldn’t even do it now…). Went and sat on the loo and tried and tried to go but no joy. Seeing as I was quite constipated during the last months of pregnancy I didn’t find this worrying, just frustrating. Finally, I managed to get rid of a bit which was great. The heat waves were coming over my body very regularly at this stage and I was making involuntary deep grunting noises which almost sounded to me like they were coming from someone else. Paul had hung up the phone with Margaret at this stage and come in to me looking somewhat worried as I’m sure I was acting strangely. “I need to go but I can’t!”, I explained. “Are you sure you need to go and that it’s not the baby?” he asked. I said that it couldn’t be as the midwife has told me that it was to be at least another 12-24 hours (I repeated this like a mantra). I was sobbing that I couldn’t do this for another 12-24 hours! And that I wanted a break. Just no contractions for 5 minutes please! PLEASE!! At some stage I put my hand down and felt a bulge. Yep, you guessed it, baby’s head! “Where is Margaret?!!” I demanded. “On her way…” came the reply. I said we should phone and tell her to come NOW! “What’s the number?” Paul asked. Whaaaaaaaaat?! I was stunned into silence (almost). So I took the phone off Paul, scrolled down to the number in the midst of major grunting and dialled it for him. Hahaha! The price to pay for being so “in control” during the pregnancy!

The baby was coming and no midwife. I was starting to lose it and couldn’t stop myself from pushing. My body was just acting on its own. Finally a knock-knock on the door. Margaret arrived to wonderful earth mother wailing! I can still hear the wails echoing in the halls of my memory. They were amazing! Starting really really low and just sliding up the octaves. Almost a caterwaul! She came into the bathroom and took me in. My eyes were almost popping out of my head at this stage. She came over to me, felt for baby’s head which was almost crowning and calmly said: “So, you’re having a baby.”

“I know!” I almost screamed.

“Where do you want to have it?” was the question.

My answer: “I don’t know! Tell me! Not in the loo!”

“Well, you’d better come off the loo then”; Margaret’s calm logical response.

“How?!?!” I demanded.

“Just kneel forward and turn.”

Oh… and that’s what I did. Leaned forward, turned, hung my upper body onto the toilet seat, which I had put down. “Just breathe” Margaret said and that sort of triggered a vague memory about breathing away a few contractions.

Paul during these 2-3 minutes had been pulling in all of Margaret’s equipment from the car and re-parked her car that she had just left outside our house on the curb… All the while the hairs on his neck were raised every time I let out one of my primal moans…

Margaret asked me where there were towels. Luckily there was a cupboard next to her filled with clean towels, so she got them out. Paul came in behind Margaret at this point I think. And me? I just breathed and then baby just wanted to come out. I remember trying not to push but just to breathe her out. It was sooo hard not to push and I couldn’t help just the smallest of pushes. I heard a funny slithering splashy sound and realised that this was my waters breaking and going all over the floor. And baby’s head was out and turning. Paul says she opened her eyes and smacked her lips, tasting the air. I wish I could have seen that! Next thing, my body just pushed the rest of her out. And Margaret caught her and passed her to me from between my legs.

I remember looking at my baby and thinking, that can’t be right! She’s too big! My baby isn’t that big! I held her in a kind of daze. What I remember most is just looking at her and drinking it all in. I watched how her little left foot unfolded itself like a little leaf unfurling. Amazing!

And then I just wanted to give her to Paul and get the last of the messy stuff over and done with. I expelled the afterbirth and remember huddling over it with the two midwives asking them to explain it to me. I remember this moment as being very ‘earthy’; three women crouched on the bathroom floor examining the mystery of what had kept baby alive these past nine months. We could have as easily been in some cave in Africa two thousand years ago. I felt so connected to Earth Mother.

I remember being led upstairs to our bed and feeling squeamish about the single stitch required for a very small tear. Funny really to be such a ninny over such a small thing after what my body and I had been through only a matter of moments before! And then Paul came up with our new beauty. I cuddled her close to me and she wanted to feed. I felt so young and inexperienced and remember asking Margaret what I should do. She laughed and grabbed baby, plonked her on my breast and, hey presto, baby knew exactly what to do! I was in bliss and amazement looking at this incredible being for the first time properly since she had come into the world. The time for counting fingers and toes. Of course she was just the most precious thing I had ever encountered!

And then the journey of motherhood began. It’s still a trip to this day and not one day passes that I don’t catch my breath at the joy that entered our world that day. “Born upon a star”, I have always said, because the bathroom mat on which she was born has a big yellow star in the middle of it. It is still there today and is a big part of the fabric of the story of Mia. She knows it too in a very deep way; the bathroom is where she plays, sings, reflects, tells herself stories… it is a place of calm for her and I can’t help but believe it still carries the echoes of her passage.

We only named her Mia after a few days. Or, perhaps more close to the truth, she herself told me her name, as we had had very different ones picked out.

I am grateful for the expert guidance the ladies from the DoMiNo Scheme at Holles Street gave me. I felt loved and cared for and never hesitated to call on them in the first few weeks any time I felt unsure about something. I can only but recommend them.

Jannetje van Leeuwen

Dublin, 31^st January 2009

Serge, my husband was surprised and apprehensive, however he trusted and respected my decision. I had literally read hundreds of birth stories, & decided I was going to be an active birth giver and not a passive patient. I wanted our memory of this birth to be of passion and accomplishment and remember how we met our baby for the first time.

The more I studied birthing and the deeper I got, the simpler it became. I realized that birthing has been hospitalized, medicalised, brutalised, & was very clinical and unfeeling. Hospitals are for the sick and injured people, yet I was pregnant, not sick or unwell!!

A home birth, it made so much sense, I love our home, it is coloured with the rich, vibrant fabric of our lives. It is where I share my deepest feelings and affection for Serge, & is where Jasmine was created. The walls of our house protect us from the outside world, it is where we go to come together as a family & just ‘be’, feel safe, relax & sleep. So why would I venture outside of our safe & loving home, into a hospital or birth centre to provide an unfamiliar environment with strangers to welcome Jasmine?

I received so much negative birthing advice & suggestions of intervention from many mothers, sharing their sad and horrifying experiences, it was a little distressing.

Of the few we informed of our exciting homebirth plans, we were very taken back and saddened by their negative and fearful comments and remarks, so we then decide not to inform anyone of our plans which would keep negative energy at bay. I preferred to reserve my energy for nurturing myself rather than having to justify our choice.

Our midwife Angela offered us her undivided attention at our regular pre-natal appointments in the comfort of our home. We built up a comfortable relationship & we trusted her professional expertise and guidance. My focus was then to create an uninterrupted and undisturbed process of birthing and to ensure the gentlest birth possible with the warmest welcome. I made a vision board and reflected on it daily.

I changed my pace of life to reflect pregnancy as my body was working hard so I slowed right down to honor myself my growing baby.

I was at the end of the pregnancy now and had been experiencing Braxton Hicks surges from 32 weeks, however, when I retired to bed at midnight, an intense surge overcame me and I knew then labour had commenced. My initial thought was how I was going to survive this labour, I was really tired as I had been up since 5am – for 19 hours, but that worried thought was quickly stamped out by excitement!

I relaxed on the couch in-between the surges listening to music, whilst Serge set up the birthing pool. I was so very tired, yet felt so calm and strong as, I felt safe, comfortable, warm and secure, which left no room for any doubt or fear.

For the first half of the labour, I stood and leaned on a chair rocking and swaying my hips with each surge. They were not at all painful, more so powerful with a lot of energy and pressure. With each surge, I went inwards and really focused on my breath, and time just flew past so very quickly. Serge was so attentive, he did everything he could for me, and he was so amazing.

I found the intensity of the surges halved when I got into the birthing pool, it felt heavenly, sliding into the warm deep water. The birthing experience was exactly how I had visualized it, we were outside on the back verandah in front of the roaring fireplace. I felt so calm, relaxed and peaceful. I remember hearing the birds in the trees and the sounds of vehicles out in the street, I knew I would be silent during labour, I felt no need to chat or communicate but rather went inwards.

By this time, Angela arrived providing her undivided support, love and attention. Labour was progressing beautifully, however, I was exhausted and I slipped in and out of a focused state of mind and drifted into a dreamlike state of consciousness. Tina, our other midwife joined us to also provide her encouragement, wisdom & support.

After 9½ hours of labour, our baby was ready, it was her time. No pushing was required on my part, my body simply did it by itself with each powerful surge, it was truly a time of self realization as I reached into my soul. She birthed herself in the water and I experienced the sheer joy of welcoming her as I caught her with my own hands. I was chocked with emotion and feelings of holding her against my skin, it was so lovely. I was meant to do this, Jasmines birth was the most profound spiritual connection I had ever experienced.

The first moments with Jasmine were sacred and honored, she felt secure and loved which allowed her to relax in the birthing pool whilst we bonded. Whilst I birthed the placenta, Jasmine bonded with Serge, skin on skin in front of the warm fireplace. Afterwards she snuggled onto my boob to commence her breast-feeding journey. We all spent the rest of the morning relaxing and recalling the event over lunch. By mid afternoon, Angela decided to leave and tucked us into bed so we could rest and sleep without any distractions. The house was so peaceful and quiet and Serge and I just lay there on a most incredible high with our baby Jasmine sleeping in between us, it was magical and the outside life just went on. I was so exhausted as by now I had been awake for 46 hours, however I could not take my eyes off her, she was so precious. I eventually drifted off to sleep recalling the exhilarating and rewarding experience, looking forward to motherhood.

So why do I feel that Jasmines birth was so successful?

Trust, it was absolutely necessary. I trusted that my body is intelligent and knew how to birth.

Serge’s support, unconditional love, trust & respect with every choice I made.

The preparation, research and education were a major keys, I was informed which left no room for doubt and I was able to choose faith over fear.

The relationship we had with our midwives was paramount. I devoted time and energy into finding and connecting with Angela and Tina, they were such gentle and calm souls.

I saw birth as a personal and private experience in a safe and secure environment, only to be shared with my partner and midwives who I absolutely trusted.

I committed energy and time to nurturing and looking after myself during pregnancy.

Upon writing this, I feel both happy and sad at the same time. I am a mother to an amazing little girl who brings so much happiness into my life, however I would love to be able to wind back the clock and re-live that amazing experience all over again as all that remains is my memory of the feelings.

Finally, I feel that birth is about fundamentally letting go, the masks we wear everyday must be thrown aside. Jasmine has been my greatest teacher, I have learnt so much about myself through the birthing process. I am left personally richer and stronger for having surrendered to this amazing experience. I encourage women to honour their babies and their body and birth instinctively.

Thank you Jasmine for coming into this world and changing Serge and I forever.

I understood that birthing was very intimate, that the first impression of a baby about the world was important. After having spent 9 months in the most comfortable and secure place, the womb, the transition should be made as smooth as possible.

The idea of the hospital smells, the neon lights and the technical people around wasn’t attractive for the least.

We would have our baby at home. Also I wasn’t too young (40) and I was 3 weeks overdue and still I was confident and determined. I prepared myself with reading positive stories. I knew the possible complications but I mostly focus on the naturalness of it all. I loved to read the birth stories from the book “spiritual midwives”, it really gave me confidence.

At the time of the first contractions, a couple of midwives were ill and we have been told to come to the hospital. We said no and asked the hospital manager to find us another midwife. After some talking, they agreed but the contractions stopped. The day after the contractions began again and we called the midwives again. They told us the same story but this time they didn’t want to call around and find us another midwife.

David didn’t want to talk his way through again feeling more resistance from them this time. He then called a natural midwife with whom we had contact before on the phone. She arrived 2 hours later as she was living 2 hours away.

I am very happy that it all went that way as the natural midwife was really hands off and very “natural”. She also let us deliver the baby in the water (the community midwives said they wanted the actual delivery to happen outside the water).

We were together David and I to give birth to our baby. David received our baby in his hands in the water and handed it to me.

I find the setting of my own house, the quietness, the lighting and familiarity so important and I would not do it otherwise except of course in case of complications.

I laboured mostly upright, always standing for contractions as they powered through my body and making a lot of releasing noises which increased in intensity over the several days of my labour. In this room I inarticulately called my baby earthside. Touchingly, sounds I made are still being heard in the house when my son plays and relives his experience of his sister’s birth.

Some of the best sounds were the silences in which my supporters watched me work through each contraction. In early labour we ate lunch in the kitchen, large bowls of pasta balanced on our knees next to the wonderful island bench, friend of the home birthing woman. When a contraction arrived I’d hand my bowl over or put it on the bench and lightly sing through it while moving my hips in the universal dance of birth. Sometimes people stopped talking, sometimes they murmured a little. I’d finish the contraction and keep eating.

In strong labour I shouted “WHOOOOOAAAAAA” and stepped from foot to foot, trying to stay anchored to the world. The sounds I most needed then were loving voices around me, my son floating through now and then, his dvds going in the background.

Even better was the sweet sound of meeting my newborn baby for the first time, hearing her birth story as she slowly blinked awake. I heard birds chatting in the dawn as my bleary eyed support people leaned on chairs and couches and tried to stay present. I heard one of my cats who followed me from room to room, just being with me. I relished the soft splat of placenta dropping into a salad bowl before I climbed out of the pool and the creaking of springs on the futon that showed I was at last lying down to rest.

Sometimes I heard in my head the voices which had told me I couldn’t birth, my baby was too big, my body is defective, how dare I pit my arrogant feminine self against the giant birthing industry machinery and birth without any of their technology?

I heard a faint echo of my mother on whose body the herstory of western medicine was marked saying “Birth is dangerous.” I heard the cries of recovering from my son’s birth, remembering how it feels to live with the sound of your baby crying in the hands of a stranger who takes them away despite your pleas.

I also heard the universe spinning and felt colourless light bursting into the pain in my body and filling me with a connection to birthing women through the aeons. I heard the voices of my beloved wise friends and the many many women who offered me their love and support generously through a stressful pregnancy. Thank you, you all know who you are. You are the sound of love.

The transition stage came and it was unbearable. Then lying on the bed, I started to feel the sensation I missed out on with Josie – the most extraordinary splitting sensation – my whole stomach was being stretched and pulled, it kept coming and receding as the baby passed slowly down my vagina. I felt as if I would never get her out without breaking in two. Jo and Danny were supporting me on either side telling me to push, and then the head crowned and Caroline told me to pant and I just did. I was so proud of that, that I didn’t push her head out but just panted it through. They held up a mirror for me, I was so busy panting I didn’t see, until suddenly this great sleeping head came out all covered in white vernix, sticking between my legs. I leaned over and slid her out of my own body and had her beautiful little soft form lying there all warm and wet and pulsating between my breasts. The feel of her body was incredibly sensuous, a big sigh of relief. Danny in tears of joy and cutting the cord. Caroline showing us the placenta, Jo such a nice presence, and Bella herself with only one little cry breathing immediately, such was the ease and joy of her birth. She sucked with incredible force straightaway, her tiny face all swollen, her little soft blood and mucus-streaked body so perfect.

The dawn was just coming – a beautiful confusion with cups of tea, Dick’s incredulous face, peering in at the small baby on my breast, her birth so gentle it had not even woken him. Everyone bustling about and me with my sweet Bella cuddled up on me feeling such relief and release. To me it was the perfect birth – no stitches or drugs or lack of control. It just happened, the clichéd natural birth became real to me when I realised how natural if is if all is well. Four hours of labour, our baby born and breathing and sucking and immediately loved and cuddled. Little Bella arrived like a gift, and the grey early dawn and the birth of our child on the high bed will always be a happy memory.

Now at home her back on the island, moving through the day in a kind of haze, beautiful blue February days, my body already feels back to normal again. Cuddling my little wrinkled wise Bella all pink and passive and lolling with her tiny blue considering eyes peering around with an air of ancient resigned wisdom, her hands fluttering in ceaseless motion.

Bella with her two-days-old smile, a floppy toothless affair, infinitely endearing. Sitting in the sun with her, both of us dozing in the warmth, her soft little head all drooping, whorled with soft fine mousy hair. While I was feeding her I caught her looking at me with a really quizzical expression, a faint frown on her face. As if she were seeing me for the first time, as opposed to the breast she had just been sucking. She is wearing her little purple cardigan, her blue eyes bright. She smiles up eagerly at me, her whole self animated as if I were the world to her – my presence alone brings her to life. Cuddling her is a warm electric thing – she still feels part of me to the point where I cannot leave her crying. Just now hanging up the nappies I left her for a few minutes in her cot. Her crying was like an ache. I had to run back and when I bent over her and she saw me, the relief in what incredibly human knowing little face shone out in her beautiful gummy smile – I couldn’t hug her beloved sturdy little body hard enough. She is so beautiful, with a little domed forehead, wide apart blue eyes and curly little lips. She is bigger than Josie was with soft little fat arms and an incredibly gentle demeanour. Sleeping in her cradle she looks like a tiny perfect doll. She has long thin tapering fingers which move like anemones, and a very serious expression. When she is lying in her yellow bath she is like a Buddha, all smiling, loving, calm, her body glistening in the water. She always trusts us.

Her time of birth primal, with the candlelight giving way to the dawn coming through the high windows. She arrived at dawn, her serene presence immediately felt because she didn’t even cry, just make this little sound, her body sliding out, that incredible closeness as I held her to my naked skin, surrounded by my husband, sister and our wonderful midwife – later my father and Josie peeping into the room in surprise. But holding Bella so lovely, Danny and I in tears of joy in the high bed in familiar surroundings, without drugs or tense hospital feeling. Bella not made to cry, but snuggling into me as if she had always been there, her own father cutting the cord, and holding her too, minutes after her birth. Bella arriving on earth with such style, a kind of quiet mirth in her as if she immediately liked what she saw. Received into the world in the quiet old-fashioned upstairs room facing towards Maungawhau, the extinct volcano, in her grandfather’s house.

Nestled in amongst us all a few hours after her arrival: father, mother, sister, aunt, grandmother and grandfather there to receive and love her, celebrate her birth. It felt like an age-old, primal ritual, far older than the one now played out in sterile while hospital rooms, exactly right for our beautiful Bella’s arrival.

To My Daughters

Your heartbeats come strongly through my skin
At this mysterious time, when all around you
Blood and darkness, the terrible beating of my heart.
My secret, silent child drowned in the dark
Tiny astronaut weaving and plunging in my inner space.

Small, exhausted, elderly, you dream of unknown lands,
and wait your turn. You sigh and move -
Perhaps you know I love you already.

We came back from the ceilidih happy and tired. I had only managed the three slowest dances, but it had been lovely. I had had a long nap in the afternoon, so I didn’t feel sleepy. As it was only 10pm, early for Spanish timing, we decided to make a cup of herbal tea. We sat in the living room for about an hour, chatting of this and that… it was so nice to have mum and sister around! A real treat when I usually only see them twice a year.

When I finally settled in bed it was 11.30, and the contractions, that I had been experiencing all day, kept on coming strong. For what felt the thousandth time in the last three weeks, I wondered if “this was it” (it was only 7 days after the due date, but I had been so sure that he would come early…). Then the baby wriggled and gave a couple of very strong and funny feeling kicks. “Strange”, I thought, “I wonder how he did that”. I felt a wetness down my leg. I touched it. “Yes, it’s definitely wet! Mmmm!, is this the waters breaking?! Did he break the bag???” I could still feel it gently coming out. It didn’t feel like pee, and I knew I’d emptied my bladder before going to bed. After a while, I decided to go and put a pad on; I had read somewhere: if the pad is wet within an hour, it’s probably your waters. You can smell it then: pee smells, amniotic fluid doesn’t. So I settled back into bed with it, trying not to get too excited. If this was labour, I could do with as much sleep as possible!

Geoffrey turned over wondering what all this up and down was about. “I think my waters have broken”, I said with a smile. “Oh! What do we need to do?” he asked sleepily. “Nothing at the moment”, I replied “it might take a while. I’ll try to get some sleep. I’ll let you know when I need you”. “OK”

I dosed off between contractions. At 1.30, I went to check on the pad. It was pretty soggy, and it didn’t smell… Yes!, finally the baby was coming!!! “OK, back to bed!”, I said to myself firmly, “now I definitely need some rest”. I tried to switch off my brain from imagining all the possible scenarios: “how long will it take?, at which point will I be when Nina wakes up?, is everything ready?, gosh!, I haven’t put out the first clothes I want him to wear!” Again I managed to dose off between contractions. Nearing 4am, I was beginning to hold on to the pillow with tight fists every time they came. They were 6-8 minutes apart. I was hungry but I didn’t feel like getting up to get something to eat. I pondered for a while if I should be waking up someone. “I could keep on going on my own. This could take a long while (my previous labour had been about 20 hours), and I want my helpers to be as rested as possible…” A contraction came and went. “No, I definitely want a banana, and I am not prepared to go fetch it myself. And I need to keep my energy up!” I squeezed Geoffrey’s arm gently.

While I munched my banana we talked about what to do next. Every time a contraction came, I had to stop talking, kneel upright on the bed, and focus. This, for me, is the point when labour has really begun: when I can’t talk while having a contraction. Geoffrey timed them: every 4-6 minutes, lasting 30 seconds but pretty strong. Now we couldn’t help but to get really excited. Geoffrey rang the midwife and I woke up my mum and sister Neus. Everybody got going quietly so as not to wake up Nina. Neus helped Geoffrey set up the birthing pool in the living room upstairs, while my mum sat with me in the bedroom downstairs. I laid on the bed and, with the contractions, I’d kneel on the floor, rest my arms on the mattress, swing my hips and moan gently, a big engine sound coming from very deep.

Then, all of a sudden, l felt sick. How reassuring to have mum there, holding my forehead… It was only the banana, but I got scared. In my previous labour, I had been sick repeatedly and became so weak we all got worried. I feared this time it was going to be the same. “If I can just keep up the liquid intake, I’ll be all right”, I thought. So I asked mum to bring me some warm rice milk. One of the things I like about labour is that I feel like a real queen, with everybody taking my wishes as commands… ?.

Meanwhile, Silvia the NHS midwife, had arrived. “You’re doing some hard work”, she said after watching me for a while. “Yes, you’re right”, I replied with a smile. She checked how dilated I was. The few seconds she took to do it were the only time I lay on my back throughout the whole birthing process, and it was the only time I felt like I was going against my body. I really don’t understand how women can labour lying on their back! I guess we are all different. Anyway, I was 3-4 cm dilated, which felt like really good news after only an hour of strong contractions. In my previous labour, dilation had been painstakingly slow… (I couldn’t help it but to compare!)

Then I had a bit of the rice milk and it felt like a punch in the stomach. A minute later I was sick again. I felt a rush of panic coming from the same place as the milk. For a moment I thought about the homeopathic remedy for fear I had in my “labour kit”. But the contractions got stronger, and I forgot about it. When I remembered again, I was having a sip of sparkling water with apple juice concentrate after each contraction, which felt good and stayed down.

The contractions got stronger again. My gentle moaning had become a more powerful “aaahhh!” sound. I remembered Monika, my friend and doula in my previous labour, explaining how the mouth on the face connects with “the mouth” of the womb, the cervix, so I very consciously kept my mouth and cheeks open and relaxed. Sometimes I even shook my head and blew raspberries to make sure I wasn’t holding on to any tension. By then, kneeling wasn’t good enough; I had to stand. I turned around the arm chair to stand behind it and, with every contraction, I squeezed the head rest while visualizing the energy flowing down my legs and on to the Earth. A couple of times I caught myself standing on tiptoes, unconsciously wanting to get away from the sensation. Every time I consciously grounded and went fully into it. “Yes!, give me more of that!” I repeated, as if I was making love, “I am looking forward to meeting you, baby, I want to hold you in my arms.” “I want to open up, I am opening the way for you to come.” “Come on, baby, we are ready for you”, I said these to myself over and over. And “We are doing well, little one, we are doing this together and are doing very well”. It was great. I felt strong and empowered.

I had my low moments too, were I only wished I could just go to sleep and wake up with the baby lying next to me. But then I would catch myself in that victim mode and would snap out of it: “No, I don’t want it to stop, I really want you to be born, baby, and you can take as long as you need, I’ll manage!”. I don’t know how often the contractions came or how regular they were, but sometimes I did sit down on the floor against a pile of cushions and duvets and dosed off. That was really helpful, because when the next contraction came I felt I had more energy to cope.

At 6 am everything was ready upstairs and Nina woke up. Perfect timing! Geoffrey and Neus dressed her and Neus took her to a friend’s house, as pre-arranged. Then I was ready to go upstairs. The living room felt beautiful, cosy and welcoming, with the soft light of the morning filtering through the curtains, the warmth of the water in the pool and the little altar with my pregnant goddess candle on top of the piano. Everything was as I had asked for, and that felt like a little miracle. It was good to reconnect with Geoffrey too, whom I hadn’t seen for the last two and a half very intense hours. During the next few contractions I held on to his forearms, sounded my powerful “aaaahhh!” and looked deeply into his brown eyes. I could feel his love pouring into me; it was great to have him next to me again.

I was uncertain whether I wanted to get into the water. Gravity had been a strong help for opening up outside the pool, but getting in might be quite soothing. I felt pushed by the comments around me: mum saying it would be helpful, Silvia asking if I was getting in, Geoffrey saying I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to… “I don’t know!, I don’t know what I want to do!, just let me be!”, I almost shouted. Then I realised the urge I had felt in the last few contractions was to push! “I’m pushing, oh! my God, I’m pushing!!” I cried with the next contraction. I couldn’t believe I was ready so quickly, I worried I wasn’t dilated enough. “OK, go ahead”, encouraged Silvia. So I went for it. “Right. Now I want to get into the pool”, I said when the contraction had faded off. “Do you want to check me first?”, I asked the midwife. “No, I think you are ready”, she replied. Amazing! So in I went.

Ah! bliss! I felt my muscles relax deeply as soon as I was surrounded by the warmth of the water, and the weightlessness was a big relief to my tired body. So different from the previous labour, when going into the pool had just felt nice! Geoffrey got in with me, sat down and leaned his back against the pool wall. I knelt in front of him, held on to his arms and squeezed them with all my strength at every push. It felt like a slow process. I was told later it took half an hour, but Aron was a stargazer, so I guess if he had come face down it would have been faster. I was just glad nobody told me he was in the anterior position, because I would have worried. It was hard enough as it was. “He is stuck!”, I cried at one point. “No, he is not” assured the midwifes. I trusted them.

The second stage is the part of labour where I do feel pain. I’m glad it is also the time when I can do something, and I get so busy with pushing that it helps take my mind off it. “Why is it so painful?”, I whimpered once or twice. But at the same time, I was aware that this was a human being coming into Earth, choosing to be born, travelling through my body. And in between contractions I had the time and awareness to marvel at it all. What a miracle.

Silvia kept on checking to see if the head was coming out. Her fingers in my vagina bothered me: “It’s all right, just leave it! I picked Nina up when she was born, I’ll pick this one up too!” So she left me alone. I pushed with all my might. “Come on, baby, we are ready for you, we are waiting”, I encouraged the little one. The head crowned and I remembered to blow raspberries to help it come out gently, which I suppose helped me not to tear this time. I knelt upright, looked down and saw the top half of his body floating in the water. His eyes were closed, his skin bluish. He looked almost surreal, peacefully hanging there, between two worlds. “Oh!, my God!, Geoffrey, look at it!”

We watched him for a short while in wonder. Then his face contracted into a painful expression; “oh!, baby, what’s wrong?”, I thought. Silvia asked if the cord was stuck somewhere. Yes, over his shoulders, that’s why the bottom half of his body wasn’t coming out. She told us how to free him and encouraged me to bring him up.

“It’s a boy!”, I exclaimed triumphantly. It was 7:07 am. I held him gently while tears welled up in my eyes: “We’ve done it, Geoffrey, he is here, our son!” I was so ecstatic that I didn’t realise he was blue and not breathing. The midwifes waited for a few seconds and then asked Geoffrey if the cord was still pulsating. “I can’t tell”, he replied. Very quickly, Sue clamped the cord and asked Geoffrey to cut it. Even in an emergency she was respecting our wishes! As the cord was being cut, Aron started to breathe noisily. Silvia rubbed him with a towel and his colour began to change. We all sighted with relief. Then he begun to cry. I wondered again what was wrong, as Nina hadn’t cried at all when she was born. In retrospect, I suppose he was releasing the bit of trauma caused by the stuck cord. Geoffrey and I begun to sing a lullaby he had heard us singing to Nina very often, while we poured water over his body to keep him warm. “It’s over, he’s here!” I kept on telling myself.

I quickly got restless. I wanted to get out of the water. I passed Aron on to Geoffrey and he stopped crying. “Well, that’s a good start for the two of them!”, I thought. I sat on the futon, but I felt uncomfortable. After a while they passed me the baby to see if he wanted to suck. He latched on after a while but didn’t seem too interested. Finally I got up and pushed again. Silvia told me to blow into my fist, as if blowing up a balloon, and the placenta came out in a huge splash. Vibrant red droplets spread everywhere. “Mmmm!, that wasn’t the decoration I would have chosen for the wall!”, I thought. But then, that was of course, the least important thing at that time. I had just birthed a baby boy!

Six days later, we went to the near by forest, to an area known as “Placenta Park”, where the community families that choose to, bury the placenta of their babies. It was a drizzly morning, so we all set off under umbrellas and waterproofs. There was Geoffrey and I, Aron in the sling, Nina on the pram, my parents, my sister Neus, and our friend Graham.

We chose a place near the place where Nina’s placenta had been buried. A little rowan tree was growing happily over that spot. Geoffrey dug a hole, I put the placenta in, we covered it with some soil and planted a birch sapling. We all trod in the ground around it to make it really firm. Then we stood in a circle and Geoffrey led us in a song: “The river is flowing, flowing and growing, the river is flowing down to the sea. Mother Earth carry me, a child I will always be. Mother Earth carry me down to the sea”. Blessings were said in English and Catalan (my mother tongue) on the life of Aron, and we thanked the placenta for the role it had played in his life so far. We finished by singing “Tall tree, warm fire, strong wind, deep water. I feel it in my body, I feel it in my soul”. It felt good and complete, the gentle rain blessing the ceremony. We returned home talking joyfully. The next phase of our lives together had begun.

The Long Version

November 18th saw me re-admitted into Middlemore hosp after spending the week there for monitoring…what a long week it was but a necessary week. Pregnant with twins makes life a little more out of your control and on this night I was preparing to be induced at 37 weeks. My partner Fi and I arrived around 8pm and set up in my very own room, such a welcome relief from the previous 7 days…with added tv too! Not knowing how long it would be until labour kicked in I sent Fi home cause one of us needed a good nights rest . It’s been known to take days after being induced as I had learned from other induced mums… .A Dr I knew from previous antenatal visits kindly filled my fanny with a magik gel at 10pm to kick me into gear and start the labour process… WELL! A day earlier I had acupuncture to help us along and was already feeling subtle cramps so this gel was like the pin that popped the balloon… In between hot showers and Milo I was feeling a wee bit uncomfortable and advised to try and get some rest… I thought my body was just on a roll and not knowing if labour was far or near I snuggled in for the night to prepare for the ride ahead… Such a surreal time with an impending birth about to impact my whole body… At 3.45 I was woken with the most amazing sensation and sound of a water bomb/balloon exploding inside of me and something moved, dropped… Babies were on their way… It was fierce and hard and fast… I just managed to call Fi at 4am and she was by my side in a flash! She met me as I was wheeled out of the elevator and into the delivery suite…… .Here we go hunny, my body in all its entirety was taken over by a power greater than I have ever imagined… My mind was narrowing its field to focus on what my body was going through…The best advice I was given via txt in the previous week from from a beautiful Maori friend who told “ just listen to your body, it knows what to do”… I could hear, see and speak to those around me and yet there was a detachment, a complete letting go… I had no plan, no strict guidelines, just wanted and needed to listen to my body. All week I had been talking with the babies and hopefully reassuring them for the most amazing experience of their lifetime and felt the bubs, me and Fi were a team working at this birth together…I really need to poo and was ‘allowed’ then on my way back to bed just let the dirtiest fart rip, and poor Fi was there to catch it!! I didn’t care, the pain of my contractions were just so intense, all I could do was breathe…Gas wasn’t doing it for me, just made me vomit and there was no chance of an epidural as we discovered a low platelet level of 48 was dangerously low for any spinal injections… So a natural birth I had after all…Pethadine was offered but I said no, or maybe not as I was given a minimal amount. No diff!!!! With monitors strapped to my belly to keep track of babies’ heartbeats I was confined to one position – My back!!!! “ Just breathe” Bloody hell if breathing was going to relieve this pain I took in air like a vacuum…I remember telling Fi how to instruct me “In and out hun”…I needed to hear more definite instructions cause I couldn’t hear the word ‘breathe’ any longer, it was too vague and not powerful enough for me!!!! With the ending of every contraction a new one began and the light just seemed so far away…I was checked for dilation and low and behold I was a fabulous 9cm…Whooopeeee!!!! From 3 – 9cm in 2 hours, what a ride…Then the feeling came…one of the bubs were on its way… I called out and told them I wasn’t pushing but they didn’t seem phased…My body and baby knew what to do…and out it came at 5.55am…A Boy, you were placed on my belly…so slimy, white, grey crying and so beautiful, you are real… Contractions were slowing so I had to work…Bubs 2 was head down and ready…I pushed just twice and you came out…Not breathing too well so they whisked you off to get some oxygen into those lungs of yours…Another Boy!!!! Wow!!! We have sons hunni…9 minutes apart…By 6.04am we were a complete family…Urban Noa number 1 and Fire Ariki number 2……

Urban and Fire’s Birth: The Short Version

Wow, what a spin out and totally uprooting experience. Your births were the most incredible moments in my life… Physically my body was at its deepest depths. With a cervix that opened at bullet speed to reach 10cm in 2 ½ hours… I churned, tossed, turned, groaned, breathed like never before…I felt myself choke on my own breath as I used it to lessen the pain…This was my world and nothing else entered…time just amplified the pain…I knew I was crushing my partner’s hands but in doing this I was somehow getting relief!!! Then you came and I felt you arrive… my body bought you into this world and I had to step aside allowing you to come as nature intended. URBAN NOA, you’re here, it’s 5.55am, Sunday 19th November. You were placed on my tummy and I touched you, what magik, what power… Life has never felt so surreal and real at the same time… You were off to have your check over and I was ready for baby two. They monitored you with a scan…Thank you bubs, you were head down… It was my time to step up again and support this journey of yours as you have waited so patiently to arrive…Pushing twice was all you needed and wow… FIRE ARIKI, you’re here!!!! What a surprise, we had no idea… we have two beautiful boys. Fire, so small and a little weak you were sent to neonates for extra care. We all came to meet you not long after with a treat of mum’s good cooking. It was a long nine days we all stayed in hospital but Fire , you needed to be a good weight before leaving. You worked so hard to reach your goal and at 1.96kg they let us free…free to return to our home and continue the journey we had started. I was in awe, and felt so proud of my partner, the boys and myself… Together we had achieved the biggest task of our lives, we climbed that mountain and discovered it has the most breathtaking view!!!

Post script…

My experiences with being pregnant were for me the most inspiring time in my physical life… My amazement and great respect for my body (and vegetarian one at that) and it’s ability to form two beautiful and healthy babies continually blew and still blows me away…I kept mindful of this wonderous miracle and constantly thanked my body and the greater powers that be for such a gift…an honour… Maori friends were able to enlighten me of the bodies ability to do what comes naturally and at the time of birth they were the words that resonated…”Listen to your body, it knows what to do”and I stepped aside. Admittedly there were huge discomforts during my pregnancy with intense itching all over my body and low platelet levels that needed constant propping up but I also sought the support of a naturopath who specialized in pregnant mothers and without her tonics and drops would have been a much harder path to travel… There was one other event I longed for and that was to have a ‘Blessing Way’ ceremony… This, I learned originated with the American Indians who would have such ceremonies for many important moments… The moment of a woman becoming a mother and her role in life to face the biggest change was one I wanted to celebrate. I had it planned and invited the women I wanted to share this with and would feel supported by throughout the birth. I was not able to have my special day but I felt the support from these ladies simply through the act of planning and making it real. I was induced on the day of the ceremony!!!! For information about these ceremonies there are many link, these are a few I liked and gained ideas from. Thank you !

I knew my baby was coming because bees had swarmed in my garden the day before and I took this as an auspicious sign, and indeed sweet like honey is my babe, creates a buzz where ever she goes.

Birth is a miraculous everyday activity, much easier to talk about than do, unlike death at the other end which is the opposite, easier to do than talk about.

So here begins the tale of the birth of Pipi Bliss Anahera Beaut Northfield (maybe not use name full).

Details like what it was I was so avidly watching on TV whilst counting my contractions elude me, and in fact the pain of this birth completely eluded me until the labour of my next child, then it all came flooding back. Clever that hormone that wipes the memory, or else quiet frankly few would choose to do it again, and again.

But then it seems to me that labour is harder and worse for women who are lucky enough to be educated, too much cerebral activity… not enough hard work. Where, in comparison, the joy of an afternoon off the daily slog of survival to have a baby is the lot of many of the women in most of the world. It was these women that I thought about when I thought of giving birth.

Back to Pipi’s story, oh the delight, the joy, the pain.

Sitting on the couch, counting, watching the second hand on the watch. It only had Roman numerals and the process did not unfortunately have the soporific effect I was hoping for… indeed by three am I was bored, lonely, scared. I decided it was time to call my first support person, the one I could count on for the hard yards.

Enter Jennifer Bland, veteran home birther, mother of Molly and daughter of a nurse. All factors I considered valuable for a companion in labour.

The increase in activity and hushed voices got the flat mate/friend and my mother curious. They awoke from their slumber not long after Jenny arrived and decided to join the vigil.

By 6am we decided to call the others that had to be there, my sister and brother and good friend Olivia. During this time I was busy breathing through and visualizing away the pain. My brother filled up the birthing pool that I had ordered in lieu of a bath. When it was full I was happy for the relief, to get into that space was sublime but had a countering effect on the labour and slowed it right down. My magical midwife had been there for awhile by this stage and was feeding me various homeopathic remedies to bring the labour on. Walking was good and the various girl friends sitting around chatting and rubbing bits putting hot towels on my back was all brilliant. Nothing was more wonderful than the father of the baby showing up… I found this hugely beneficial and to this day enjoy that bond with him, though not subsequently, this must be another hormone at work I guess.

By this stage I had not slept for twenty-four hours and was quite fatigued; but still seemingly in control. The hours wound on and eventually I decided that I needed to poo so off to the toilet. This was ostensibly my body wishing to push the baby out. At the time it felt comfortable and I could have staid there. I ended up arse up on the kitchen floor pushing the pumpkin out. Draped over my sister and backing up to the oven I started to heave. Her head crowned and the crowd went wild “oh look the head” by this time there were no less than 13 people present including my 7 year old godson who had front row seats. Another push and “oh my look at those lips, they are so huge and beautiful”. Another push and I could feel that she was mostly out. I had actually lost my contractions and praise all those years of sucking my tummy in as great training for birth, as I basically pushed her out by myself.

Her beautiful little strong body came out and she coughed and spluttered her way into the world. I turned around to lift her onto my chest but her cord was pretty short and I couldn’t lift her very high but she was amazing, just like her mother. We pushed the placenta out with a few coughs then jumped back in the pool to soak in the warmth and cuddle. Everyone was so euphoric and delighted. They had all just been part of the most magical thing in the world and were all so buzzed out and divine. The little girl was just perfect all scores immaculate and a great big head of strawberry blond hair which she has to this day, 7 years later.

For my second baby I built a birth aid contraption that suspended from the ceiling at various adjustable levels that I could lean over and hang off. Being a tall woman I found it difficult to get a powerful position during my first labour so it was good to experiment with this aid. I used the shower for pain relief for this labour and that was great. Every time it got a bit hard I would go into the shower and concentrate the pain away with the water. I knew the baby was coming all that day because I could just feel it. So when my waters broke at about 9 we called the midwife. She had only just arrived when I was ready to push her out. So cool that pushing and knowing that you are going to be able to hold your baby and that they are going to be yours. This baby twisted around on the way out and came out forehead presenting and facing the wrong way. She has a cow lick on her forehead and I blame that, must have sent her into a spin. Oh divine child she was just so pretty right from the start and man did she let us know she was here. She jumped on the breast like she had done it all before and just settled in straight away like we had been waiting for her all our lives, which of course we had.

Giving birth is just such a wonderful experience and is by far the easiest part of having children. For me anyway. I think all you need to remember is all the women that are your ancestors who are responsible for you and just believe you are part of that continuum, as are your children.

So it’s about 2pmish the house wakes, up my children and mum now are up and about and my tightenings are here and there. Unsure of what was going to evolve throughout the day and night I was unsure whether to treat myself as if I was in labour or to just get on about the business of the day… I decided to act as if I was in labour and told mum to take the kids for me while I just pottered around the house.

I spent the afternoon resting in bed or on the couch or going outside and playing with the kids or talking to mum, while my tightenings kept on. I just did what I wanted to do. If the kids wanted me I told them to go to their yiayia (grandma) if I felt like speaking to my family was a bit much I would go and rest. If I felt a tightening coming while speaking to mum I would leave her presence and breath through it.

At some point before dinner the surges picked up and I had to change they way I breathed through them. I now had to hold onto a bench and sort of hang and rock of it, at this point I told mum that finally I was in labor and now I needed to swing through these and she would have to leave the room if she was uncomfortable.

I got her to move the futon out from the wall so I could lay down on it but get up and swing off the back rail when I needed it. Mum continued with the kids I continued to labor among them bit not really with them.

I was loving it. Being in my home and laboring with calm feeling supported, (actually feeling supported by my mum) and freely moving and doing anything I needed to from one moment to the next. I felt like a cat in labor to me this was the most magical feeling.

Maybe a phone call form my doula or midwife about now asking me how things where going if they where going, maybe I said yes this was it not sure. But I would call later if they picked up.

Dinnertime I was ravenous, I had a nice light but filling dinner, actually I was hungry all day and ate small snacks all afternoon. In the middle of dinner I had two strong surges and got up from the table and swung from the kitchen sink while my family kept eating their dinner behind me.

Mum bathed the kids, I went back to my futon and continued to labor there, I think at this time the surges stepped up another notch and became a little more regular and closer together. I know I couldn’t lay down with the kids to put them to bed because it took to long to get up find something to swing off, by the time I got to hang off something I could almost interpret the surges as painful so I had to stand and sing and swing for them to sleep instead.

I think it makes it now 7pmish kids a sleep, mum went out for a bit and I was home alone. I had to switch the lights out it felt better in the dark. A phone call from someone maybe mw maybe doula (sorry!) shared the update but wasn’t ready for anyone to come yet. I still had a fear that if anyone was going to come in to my space I would feel an expectation to birth a baby and then things would stop. And besides I was having too much fun laboring on my own.

I jumped in the shower and filled the bath, and continued in the water. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked marvellous, my skin glistening with water my face illumined with life and body full of birth. I was sensual, sexy and incredibly beautiful. I had a second of mourning that I couldn’t share this with a man and knew how orgasmic a kiss from a man would be right now. As I looked out my window I saw a magnificent spider instead, and I knew instead I had all the woman of the past with me. I swung like a monkey through my surges and together the spider and I labored her on her web and me with my baby.

Mum comes home and I hop out of the water for a bit, I go back into my bedroom where I had made a nest the night before I am feeling a little restless I cant get comfortable, I cant find an effective way to work through the surges, so I go back to the water a stay in there for a bit but still nothing seems to really get it. I have this urge to go back to my room and lay down for a bit. It feels like the surges stop for a while and I feel my baby move inside. She is turning her whole body her head turning on my cervix, it is agony to remain on my side through a surge but there is a strong feeling of staying put and allowing my baby to turn and shift her position, my pelvis clicks a few times and she settles in my pelvis and stops. I jump up glad that I could move again the surges now certainly have shifted and seem to be all directed in my back and right hip.

I leave my room I go back to the water. My mind and thinking are starting to slow down and I feel myself just being. I leave the bathroom and find the laundry sink, here I plant myself, and here I start to moo as my whole body moves and rolls through the surges hanging off the sink. There is pain, I feel my baby’s feet kick my stomach and I realised she has sunk into op and she wasn’t going anywhere.

I transcend the pain and moo and dance

I call my mw “I need help” she is 40mins away my doula an hour plus.

My mum comes down to ask me if I was alright, I asked is she? I said my team was on there way I am doing fine baby in dodgy position.

I have flashes of my dreams of birthing my baby on my own into my arms, but the pushing never comes the pain remains.

I call again “how far are you” mw is not far. I transcend that pain again into my moo and dance and wait and labor.

I only have flashes from here on, the pain in my back and pelvis I cannot explain all I know is I found a place very deep and raw within where no thoughts reside, nothing outside of me existed, I was free, although captive to this labor and its pain my spirit was free my energy powerful my heart overwhelmed. At times the pain would wash me into conscience and would cry as the surge left my body knowing it was only minutes before I was engulfed again. My body was loud but I was quiet. My body was in action while I was far away observing. I started to feel unsafe being so far within with no one outside to protect me, my mw arrives and I feel safe.

I know no one can do anything, I don’t want anyone to do anything, and I need to stay deep within to do this I am scared to come to the surface. The surface is where the pain is.

I am on the floor on all fours, I try and not panic. I need to swing I need to swing help me I cannot talk. My midwife my sweet intuitive midwife crawls next to me, I crawl onto her back I bury myself in her warm flesh and feel so much love, I have never been so supported in my life before that someone would crawl to assist me, my panic leaves and I relish the flesh on flesh contact. There is only room for woman here

I am in the bath, I don’t like it but I want to stay, I don’t want to move again, I hear my doula arrives I hear the birth pool pump, so loud, teasing me with its offering of comfort not quite ready for me. Oh no I am thinking the pain the pain

“what’s going on”, I ask.

I feel like the surges are creeping into my safe place its getting harder to keep the pain out. I know right now this is my time, this is my time what do I choose to do, this pain is engulfing it feels everlasting I cannot see the end, where is the pushing I am waiting for my body to push it must be soon, how much longer and then

*ROAR*

the pushing is not coming it says this is not Taelens birth, this is not going to be easy she is not going to turn

*ROAR*

you have to let go, let go, let go let go of everything

*ROAR*

you need to push

once I pushed with the surges I felt like I was doing something, like I was somehow on top of the pain again I could defeat it, it could not consume me if I did not let it.

My roar that sprung from every cell of my body was life itself, with it it brought me strength with it brought energy, it was powerful it was angry it was love it was everything and it was so raw it was nothing.

I am in the birth pool my face smashed up against the edge, my roar took care of me just when I thought I would get lost in the pain she would growl more powerful more stronger and with more conviction. She held me close while she did the work.

“Ok” I feel the head. I feel her move through my cervix it feels like I have to push my baby out from my womb, my body is pushing but my roar is what is in charge, she dictates she leads. My body must surrender.

My pelvis opens she expands and moulds my baby’s journey out, as she descends the pain is engulfing not even my mighty roar can steal my right to feel the pain, in one smooth swoop her head is born, as my body holds her turning body I am between worlds, one of holding life the other of giving life, one final roar and my daughter is born.

PS: After debriefing with my mw and doula we suspect she was brow presentation at some point.