After an hour I started to have a feeling like the onset of my period which soon became a rhythmic tightening in my womb.  I got up.  While on my feet the tightenings continued, quite far apart but regular and they carried on while I cooked dinner and baked a cake.  I started to feel excited that my baby might soon be born, but by 8:30pm I was tired and needed to lie down.  All the action stopped and I was disappointed the following day when there was no sign of baby coming.

After a day or two I was relaxed and happy to let things happen in their own time, but taking a good brisk walk everyday to encourage baby in the right direction.  I started to have strong Braxton Hicks contractions and then my uterus went hard as a rock for more than an hour with no let up.  This was frightening and not something I had experienced or heard of as being ‘normal’ pre-labour activity so I called my midwife and on her advice took a bath.  Perhaps I should have rung my mother because talking it over with her later she said “Oh yes that’s how labour started for me with both you and your sister”.  I had had no experience of pre-labour activity during the birth of my daughter (now 10 yrs) as her labour began with my waters breaking in the middle of the night in a great gush and then a slow progression until her arrival some 14 hours later.

With my uterus still contracted hard after a bath I was feeling very anxious (not helped by lack of sleep) so my midwife suggested I come up to the hospital and meet her for a check-up.  I had never been to the hospital birthing unit, having had my daughter at home; I found it daunting.  After foetal monitoring, which showed regular small contractions and a healthy response from baby, I asked my midwife for an examination.  I really needed to know what was happening.  I was 2cm dilated and 80% effaced – at last real progress!  So we all went home feeling that baby would be coming in the night.  Once again the action stopped and nothing the next day either although by now I was 4 cm dilated and 100% effaced – how frustrating.

Arran’s due date arrived and I had some induction and relaxation acupuncture.  After a rest my Mother-in-law took me shopping, with instructions from my husband not to bring me home until I was in labour.  I got a good hour’s walk around the supermarket, my husband and I had another go at nipple stimulation in the evening and I spent plenty of time rocking on my Swiss ball.  But other than two large contractions nothing else happened so I went to bed to get some rest.

At 2:30am I woke up feeling refreshed and turned on the TV.  I felt resolute – the time had come for baby to be born!  So I started nipple stimulation again while watching TV and after an hour I felt a popping sensation low in my belly, which was just a little painful.  My waters had broken!  To be sure I leapt out of bed and switched on the light, sure enough a few drips appeared.  I woke Rob and before 30 seconds were up I got a painful, strong contraction which lasted about 20 seconds.  We both waited to make sure this really was labour and sure enough within 90 seconds another short, sharp contraction came: “ring the midwife and fill the birth-pool!”

As I moved into the lounge another contraction hit, they were painful, short but very close together.  In retrospect we should have had a practice run with the birth-pool.  Labouring alone was a little stressful, while Rob tried to find the pool instructions that I had tidied away and forgotten.  I rang Mum to let her know we were at ‘action stations’.  The contractions increased in sharpness and started to spread into my back while I talked on the phone.  Each time a contraction came I dropped the phone and groaned my way through it before picking up again.  Mum timed me and after the third contraction in two minutes she urged me to call my midwife back and make sure she was on the way.  Rob started acupressure on my lower back at each contraction and the relief was incredible.  After that I felt like I couldn’t handle any contractions without the sacral counter-pressure as the pain was intense.  By this time the pool was filling, the contractions were coming one after the other (but still short) and I felt scared by the intensity and the lack of any break between.  I called Julie back and asked her to come straight away.

My friend and birthcoach Aileen arrived and Zyanya awoke and came out to see if I was OK.  She wanted to be at the birth but I was anxious that she would be frightened watching me labour so I asked her to stay in her room for a while with the radio on.  Aileen began reminding me to keep breathing and reassuring me.  The lights were dimmed and music was playing quietly.

Finally I felt the endorphins kick in and I started to feel ‘out of it’ and more able to focus on going with the flow.  Not as frightened of the contractions my anxiety lessened and my breathing improved.  Negative thoughts were going through my mind like “I can’t do this” and “everything is too fast and painful”.  But I had practised letting those thoughts come and go without taking them on or panicking.  Looking back, I think I was probably in transition not long into my labour, a difficult starting point mentally.  Our student midwife Bridgette arrived and Julie soon followed.  I was feeling the need to bear down at the end of each contraction by now, Arran was not far away.

My daughter came out of her room and sat quietly in an armchair, she was not frightened as long as she could see what was happening; 10-year olds cope remarkably well.  Julie set up her gear and Bridgette and Rob stepped-up efforts to get the pool full and to the right temperature while Aileen stayed with me on the floor.  Finally I could move into the pool, which was cool and wonderful relief.  Aileen remained by my side applying pressure to my sacrum and reminding me to keep breathing through each contraction and not to hold my breath when the pushing sensations came, just to go with the flow and let my body do the work on its own.  Rob stayed at my head, stroking my arms and applying acupressure to my shoulders to remind me to keep my focus up and on breathing while I laboured on hands and knees in the pool.  Between the contractions Aileen washed water over my lower back, which was magic.  At this point the pool was too cool and shallow for the arrival of baby; Bridgette did a great job of getting it heated up and full just in time.

I was determined not to hold my breath or physically push with the contractions.  I could feel Arran’s descent into and through the birth canal and the opening and stretching of my pelvis as he moved and turned.  It was an amazing feeling and though the contractions were strong and overwhelming at times I kept allowing the negative thoughts to come and go and visualised that I was riding waves in the ocean.  Aileen was my constant reminder when the going got tough that we had a plan and the plan was to keep breathing through each contraction; I wanted to “breathe the baby out”.  This method slowed Arran’s descent and helped me to relax after the whirlwind intensity of my earlier labour.  Julie had to remind herself not to tell me to push.  I touched my son’s head and felt his hair – not long now!

With each contraction I simply let my uterus do all the work and the sensations of Arran and I working together to bring him into the world were amazing.  I knew when his head was going to crown and I took a deep breath in readiness.  His head was birthed with some easing from Julie and I panted hard to stop myself from pushing him straight out.  While we waited for the next contraction to bring his shoulders and body out Zyanya came to the pool to see Arran for the first time – that wait seemed to take forever.  One more strong contraction and he was free with Julie passing him through my legs and into my arms.  At last you were here Arran, sleeping in my arms, contented and very chubby!  We all sat around the pool looking at Arran while he slept on, stirred a little and finally opened his eyes.  I couldn’t believe how big he was (9lbs 14oz) or how quickly he was born in the end, only two hours and ten minutes from start to birth.

Eventually we left the pool to birth the placenta.  Rob cut Arran’s cord and I only had a small tear so no stitches were needed thanks to the slowed second stage.  Arran was swaddled on my chest skin-to-skin wearing only a hat (the newborn one I had chosen for the occasion was too small!) and although he was alert and looking around he had little inclination to feed then.  We cuddled up together on the couch for tea and toast, Aileen and the midwives drank tea and chatted and I called Mum back to let her know everything had gone well.  We named him sometime around dawn.  After a clean up we were all tucked up into our bed for a well-earned sleep and for Arran’s first feed once he woke in the afternoon: homebirth bliss!

It was a Sunday, 2 days before your official due date. Jace came in to our bed just before your Dad had to go to work. We had a lovely cuddle whilst you were finding a more comfortable spot inside my belly. My last sleep in. I don’t think we got up till 9:30am.

I had a feeling that things had to get done today. I knew I had to somehow get out of the house and get a card for our wedding anniversary. I didn’t feel comfortable about leaving my home. I remember whilst at the newsagents the young girl serving us asked that dreaded question: “So when are you due?” I think I threw her when I said “tonight would be good just not tomorrow”. Whilst out I made a very spontaneous decision and decide to go and feed the ducks with Jace. We had just brought a loaf of bread. I was relaxed and nonchalant. We went back home and had lunch. All this before 11am. Jace had sleep so I had a big sleep as well.

3pm comes and Jace hasn’t stirred because he didn’t actually go to sleep until 12:30pm, just reading his books. I get up and notice that I feel a little different. I have had a show. I’m now a little excited but know that it could be days away. I ring your Dad just to check that he will be home soon as I’m quite anxious. I’ve also been walking heaps as it’s a little uncomfortable to sit. I can feel you moving and am happy knowing that all is well. What will be will be.

Your Dad comes home around 4pm and we decide I probably should call the midwife. He has noticed that I’m very blasé, and not really ‘there’. I know that my midwife won’t be back on duty for me until Tuesday, I’m not too concerned. I ring and the midwife is excited for me as I explain that my tightening’s aren’t painful and they aren’t regular. I’ve only had a show. I say that I’m not in labour and just thought I should ring. This midwife isn’t too concerned but offers to come out. I don’t think its time and am not ready, my house is a mess. We agree that I will call back after Jace is in bed. My intuition is telling me that if I am in labour and it is going to be tonight it will all happen after Jace is in bed. I send your Dad and brother out to pick up some supplies for dinner, mmm homemade pizza. I rush around cleaning the house, floors scrubbed (on hands and knees might I add), bathroom immaculate, rubbish bins emptied, washing folded and put away.

Your Dad and brother come home and vacuum. I start preparing dinner. Now that I am standing still I’m in focus with you. I notice you are quieter and my belly is tight for a little longer then before. I decide to ring my Mum. I don’t tell her I’m in labour just that the midwives might be out tonight and not to worry. She laughs and says ok dear you’ll be ok.

We have dinner and bath Jace. I’m confused: I shouldn’t be eating if THIS is labour. It is only whilst reading your brother a story that I feel tonight could be the night that you enter our family. Jace gives me a big cuddle and accidently head butts my belly, you move around. The pain rushes through my body and stays in my back. I groan in pain, ‘down, out open’ I chant. It doesn’t let up, I feel as though I’m tearing down my spine. Jace calls out and reaches his arms up to me; he tries to climb out over the side of his cot. I call out to your Dad, “Scott, come quick”, I see the panic in my little boys eyes as I double over. Scott comes in and calms Jace. Finally I’m ok, the rush is over. I now have a backache that is making me feel nauseous. I say goodnight to Jace and decide to time these contractions. The next one can’t have been more then 3 mins from the last. The pain is the same, I walk around flapping my hands and then I bend over the bed and sway my hips. Oh where is the relief! Scott rubs my back. It ends. Something is telling me I need to get on the bed on my hands and knees and bounce. I do, I feel you move and a sense of relief comes over me. Down off the bed I wander around aimlessly. It’s too soon to get everything ready. I still need confirmation that this is IT. Another tightening. No pain just uncomfortable and a deep feeling. I call my midwife: “I’m still not in pain, I can walk through them, it’s so irregular, I just want to spew”. She laughs and asks why; I know I’m in labour when I spew. They are about 8mins apart and lasting about 30-45sec long. “I think we need to come out, it will take us a good hour to get to you.” I begrudgingly agree.

I announce to Scott the midwives are coming so its time to get everything prepared. A look of ‘I told you so’ comes across his face and he goes about getting the birth pool set up, mattresses out and everything in its place. I’m still walking around with no sense of direction so I get told to sit down and rest. It’s uncomfortable and frustrating. Whilst getting the midwifes things out of our wardrobe I feel sick. Luckily there is a bucket close by. I spew. That feels better. Your Dad comes in and asks if I’m in labour yet. I need to get clean and have a shower so I jump in the shower. Bliss I only want to rinse off but the water is so soothing and calming. I have another contraction maybe 5mins after the last; it doesn’t last long and is easy to get through by bending over into a squat under the water. I get out and am only mildly aware that the midwives are here. I say hi as I walk around our bedroom naked looking for my labour clothes. THIS IS IT I AM IN LABOUR. Its 8:38pm.

I offer for them to check the heartbeat and comment that I spewed. The midwife I spoke to on the phone laughs “so you’re going to have your baby soon then?” I’m not too sure. I need reassurance, they aren’t regular or hurting it’s so different to what I imagined. We chat about how I thought I would birth whilst Scott was at work and how Jace would be rushing for the phone and getting me a towel. Your heartbeat is strong and everything is great. Your big brother is still awake and calling out. Not panicking just checking that all is ok.

We move into the lounge room and Scott leaves to make a cup of tea for the midwives. I haven’t met these particular midwives but I mention that they have attended a few friends’ births. I also ask how many homebirths have they assisted with. Upon remembering these questions later it might be taken as though I interviewed the midwives. I didn’t mean for it to come out impolitely. Both say a few but not many ‘official’ ones. I’m now back to being excited I’m staying home and my baby is going to be here soon. Another contraction I walk out to the bedroom walk up and down the hallway. Scott comes back in with the tea. I hear them telling him how calm I am and just so at ease. I walk back in and casually mention it is our wedding anniversary tomorrow. “Oh how many years”. “Just one. I don’t suppose I will be having sex tomorrow?” It was more a question and I was yet again after reassurance that this will keep going. Everyone laughed; I looked at your Dad and realized he was a little embarrassed. I think it is time for the birth pool. Your Dad goes to fill it.

I ask the midwives what they think. They said whatever I feel comfortable with. I asked about when I should have the group B strep douche (as I tested positive during pregnancy) before getting in the pool or after? I make it clear that I still don’t feel comfortable staying in the water to give birth. Just as one midwife prepares the douche another contraction starts I pace around the bedroom and then hear a strange sound as I feel warmness running down my legs. I stand over a bucket and catch most of it. “I think my waters have broken?” The midwife checks and says that we don’t have time to use the douche is that ok. I don’t care. I need to pee.

I move to the toilet: “are you sure it’s not the baby?” ‘YES’. Another contraction, things change. As I wee I feel you move, everything feels different. “Uaah No, baby” I yell and shake my head as I bear down. “We need a towel; do you have a towel to wrap the baby in?” “Yep it’s in the basket!” Your Dad yells out that he can’t find it. All I can manage to say is: “blue, bedroom”. It’s found after much discussion between the three of them. It doesn’t feel right sitting on the toilet and all I can think about is how uncomfortable your Dad looks. “Do you want to get up” “Yes” “We’ll go into the lounge room, through the bathroom ok” “mmm” is all I can manage.

I get helped up off the toilet and we start walking through the bathroom between the shower and the bathroom. Down I go, on all fours. The tiles feel so good. Another urge to push as I arch my back and groan deeply. I can feel you moving down. I know its close but its all happening so quickly. Someone is asking if I want some pillows all I can do is nod my head. A midwife asks me to lift my hand I shake my head, it doesn’t feel right the tiles are so cool, I’m getting so hot and sweaty. I get reassurance that I will feel better after if I can just lift my knees and wrists. Somehow I manage and God it feels good.

I arch my back as I prepare for another push. I grunt and groan and wiggle my hips. I think I push for nearly a minute. It was a long one. I can feel the burning and it’s so hot. I feel as though this is the end of me I can’t go on. I wish someone would just pull the baby out. I am aware of you pushing your head down and then slipping back up. My mind ticks over, I don’t want you to move away, I want you to work with me. As I look up I can see your Dads mouth moving, but I’m not taking in what he is saying. I recollect my thoughts and realize I’m still at home, in our bathroom, I CAN do this. My baby is coming and it’s going to be really soon.

Your head has crowned. I give another little grunt after that push and your head slips out. With all that burning I can’t feel much, just a slight extension of my body. A little heavier in the rear end. I’m offered a straw, I can’t move but am so hot. The straw passes through my lips and I drink in the cool juice. I’m getting uncomfortable again. Like I need to move my hips around in a circle and shake my baby out. My mind flicks to an image of a mare birthing her little foal. Where she is standing and does a full circle with the head out and by the time she finishes turning on the spot her foal has fallen out. If it were only that easy.

We are just waiting for another urge to push. I know this will be the last one. A midwife asks if I feel like pushing yet. I cautiously bear down. I stop. It doesn’t feel right. It feels so wrong like going the wrong way in a one-way street. I shake my head. I know your head has been out for a while (3-4mins) and can feel you draining all the fluid that you have swallowed. It’s coming out your nose and mouth. I hear the midwives showing your Dad. You have your first photo taken and I think the flash startles you as there was some kind of reaction.

My legs tingle, and my back arches. I feel the power of another urge. Finally, I push with all my might. This must be the last push I don’t want to push anymore. The feeling is awesome. I grunt and groan as your body slides out. A midwife catches you and gently places you between my legs. I move backwards over you. I gently pick you up. So slippery and wet. You’re blue. I’m not panicked I gently place you over my forearm and rub your back as I say hello. More fluid is pouring out your nose and mouth. You cough and splutter and open your lungs. A huge scream fills the bathroom. I let out a big breath, as I had also been holding mine. My legs shake as I turn you over and sit back on my legs. “It’s a boy”. I knew deep within that you were a boy. I’m so thrilled that you are ok and healthy. “I didn’t even look, if he was a girl I would have been shocked” says your Dad. I can see the hugest smile come across his face. He is so proud.

We wrap you in the blue towel. I ever so carefully carry you out to the lounge room. You have a very short cord, just like your brother and I can only get you to just under my hips without it pulling through my engorged labia. Needless to say it is a very uncomfortable walk, me hunched over and you testing your lungs. I sit down and get comfortable. I lay you on my belly. All is instantly quiet. Your skin is so beautiful, your eyes so big, blue and deep. You are content to just watch and nuzzle. Taking everything in. Your eyes meet your Dads as you look over my shoulder. You know who he is and wiggle when he places his hands on your back. We are left alone as a family whilst the midwives make calls and announce your arrival.

10mins later the after pains are getting stronger and I need to push. It feels different and harder work like going against gravity. I feel like I should change position but still want you on me. I tell the midwife that it’s there “just pull it out”. As I lean back on my arms and wiggle my bottom out it plops. It’s big and so glossy. We place it in the bowl beside us. At last I can get you into a better position to offer you my breast.

Your first feed is perfect. All in your own time about 40mins after your birth. You take one look at my nipple and latch on beautifully. It’s such a big feed for such a little baby. The midwives check me over only a few frontal grazes. I think these were from your cord. Your Dad cuts your cord 10mins before the midwives leave. They leave us at midnight to bond. You are fast asleep. But only for an hour. I grab something to eat and marvel at just how perfect you are.

You were born at 9:44pm and spent most of your first night awake and alert just taking it all in. Only going to sleep for an hour and a bit within your first 7 hours of being earth side.

After a few more breastfeeds you were just about to go back to sleep when your brother makes his appearance. You gurgle as your lying on my tummy and he rushes over and excitedly points at you. “bbub, babb” his telling us with huge smile. We explain that you have come out of my tummy and this is the baby. He gives you such a gentle kiss and tries to shove you off my tummy to kiss it. Nobody is going back to sleep now.

No transition and my contractions never got below 6mins apart. Technically I never was in established labour.

You weighed 3.54kg (7 pounds 15) and measured 49cm. Just perfect.

No interventions, No drugs. Just a peaceful, natural birth.

Early Thursday morning, heading to preschool, my son Malachi and I began to talk about his little sister making her appearance. “She will be out soon,” I said to him, “when do you think baby will be born?” Without hesitation my son said “tomorrow baby be born in the pool.” About 10 hours later, leaving the restaurant after a family dinner, headed to daddy’s hockey game, labor began.

But Ava’s labor didn’t seem like labor at all. Getting out of the car at the ice rink with big brother Malachi, I felt a pain. A slow warm contraction like pain that peaked but did not fall. “Are you okay mama?” my son asked as I hunched over a bit walking to the door.  “Yes, boo,” I said “I think Ava’s ready to come out.” Malachi came and grabbed my hand to help me to the door. “I help push baby out?” he asked as he touched my belly. It was hard still and sharp. “Yes, Kai Kai,,” I said gently squeezing his hand, “soon.”

Inside the ice arena the cool air felt good. I was still in a strange contraction peak that wouldn’t subside. I made my way to the ladies room and tried hot water on my belly, then cold, then squatting in the restroom, then walking again… but still the pain lingered and my belly was hard. We eventually made it back outside so I could get my phone. I wanted to call my doula and let her know what was going on. The fresh air was calming and I made it to a tree by the lot. With my back against the tree, I squatted again, humming down the pain. Malachi followed me to a puddle where he splashed and played. I regained my breath and gave Jessica my doula and Karen my midwife a call. Still not quite sure it was labor, but something was happening.

Daddy came out of his game, some hockey gear still on, and opened the car door for me. He helped me in and asked how I was feeling. Excited, anxious, amazed, and in some pain, but I was feeling wonderful. Soon we were home and I was pacing around the house. The pain began to rise and fall and resemble traditional contractions. Time to call Jessica and Karen again.

By now he sun was down and the warm summer air was cooling. I walked into the backyard and into the hot tub, bringing with me my tangerine-lavender birth candle. I lit it excitedly and slipped into the warm water, focusing on the flame and invigorating yet calming aroma. As I hit the water, the pain began to subside, but I could feel my womb contracting- rising and falling like the waves of the ocean. I let the jets hit my back and I rubbed my belly gently, massaging my baby down. “Come down, Ava, come down,” I spoke gently to her, feeling her leg push into my right side as another contraction began.

Daddy came outside with some water and Karen on the phone. She told me she was on her way. I felt like I was in a dream- it was all falling into place now and in a matter of hours Ava would be in my arms. Daddy and big brother Malachi joined me in the hot tub and we breathed and sang through the contraction waves together.

Over the next several hours, there wasn’t much progression. My contractions were still a bit sporadic and although I was 100% effaced, I was only 4cm dilated. So I kept walking, singing her down, humming through the pain, talking her into position. Ava and I worked through contractions together as daddy and Malachi headed up to sleep.  Almost Friday morning but although I was tired, I could not sleep. Back to the hot tub and the candle- back to the stars and the fresh air. I sat in the water as the clouds began to roll in. Earlier some heat lightning threatened the cancellation of my outdoor waterbirth, but that had since subsided and the night air was full of promise.

I came back inside and my birth assistant Liz checked my body’s progress. Closer, stronger, quicker, sharper, but not opening up the door enough for her. We decided to help the process along by rupturing my amniotic sac. Waiting for another rush to come, I pictured my bag of waters holding my little girl- opening up for her to find the way out. Warm fluid leaked down and I rocked through the pain. Rocking and singing and seeing her little head come down.

When I was finally at the point to enter the pool, I rushed into the liquid escape and sunk into its warm embrace. Stretching back my head and shoulders, I looked into the dark, cloudy sky and spied a few stars peeking through. I breathed in the air as several raindrops hit my face. As the pains became more intense, Jason came outside and held me. I leaned into his support, feeling his pride and strength. His excitement and encouragement seeped into me as I held on to him.

But Ava wasn’t coming down. I was dilated, my body was ready, but she was still floating in her own little world. I flipped to my back and pushed, feeling myself float up – holding my legs… then I left the tub to sit on the birth stool for several pushes. Malachi had woken up and Jason had now brought him outside to see “baby come out” as he had been waiting anxiously for.  I was beginning to zone out into another world- seeing only the visions of baby dropping, while humming, singing, yelling, grunting. . . .  Nothing else existed for that moment. I began to feel hot and nauseous, but as I lifted up my head it was covered in cool, soothing refreshing raindrops and I tried to drink them in and gather strength.

I looked at the candles I had lit, several out from the rain but my tangerine-lavender birth candle still was glowing. Strength from the fire, from the fresh air in my backyard, from the cool earth below my feet, from the water coming down onto my face and into my hair as I wiped the raindrops over me, bathing in life- ecstatically. And then I felt that familiar hot pressure. I knew it was her head pushing her way out. I climbed into the water, my husband and son at the edge of the tub calmly watching, supporting, loving.

“Aaaaaavaaaa,” I said, not sure if it was aloud or in my head, but all I could hear was “aaaavvaaaaa- down – here you come, into my arms, here you come. “I pushed again and again and felt the hot pressure change. Suddenly no pain, no pressure, and I felt a little leg.

Looking down my midwife was passing this tiny little creature to me from under the water- appearing magically through the warm waves I had made with the pushing. Her arms reached to me and I brought her to my chest. We did it, there she is, my little waterbaby here in my arms. I held her close, looked her over, held her close again, felt her cord, then lifted her up to kiss her, smell her, feel her.

We sat in the tub for a little while and relaxed, feeling the rain, letting big brother touch her and oogle over his precious sister, as daddy watched in awe, touching her tiny body, delicate hands, fuzzy little head. She didn’t want to nurse but was content as a pea in a pod cuddling in the warm water. As the raindrops came a bit stronger and the cramping in my uterus reminded me our placenta was still waiting, we emerged from the tub and headed inside to rest on the couch. Cord still connecting us, I cradled my little girl to my chest and walked towards the comfy cushions. My wonderful birth team waited patiently as we cuddled and I reached down to feel her cord. It seemed so small and white compared to others I have had and have seen, like a magical little serpent or the snakes on the caduceus. Pulsing slowing… It was so amazing to hold it as I held her and feel the pulse slowly fade, watching her breathe in air.  Soon it was time for the separation on one level, as we connected on another level. Baby to chest, baby to breast, breathing in mommy’s breath.

Daddy leaned over and as he had done for his other two children, made the symbolic first connection to the outside world as the disconnection from mommy’s was already working away on its own. At this moment it was time to go to daddy’s arms. He smiled with joy, pride and elation as he took little Ava against his bare chest and spoke gently to her.

I slipped off the couch and squatted out the placenta as my husband and son soaked up the joy of our newest family member- the little girl who had been with us behind closed womb walls for so long.

And then it was time to rest. We had all worked so hard, so strong, and so ready to fall into each other and collapse.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t as smooth as my last birth. It scared me at several moments and for a few breaths I felt like giving up. But it was glorious and miraculous. It was full of poetic passion and pain. Every doubt was followed up by a warm thought, easy breath, vision of my daughter, encouragement from my birth team, love from my husband or smile of excitement on my son’s face.

And Malachi was right- baby was born on Friday in the pool.

On Saturday 23rd September 11.30pm I started to notice that I was getting slight waves of pressure around my lower back, nothing to complain about but I was aware that something was happening. I decided to listen to my hypnobirthing cd and then went to bed. Throughout the night I was aware of these waves yet kept relaxing, not quite sleeping but resting (I think the excitement that this could be IT kept me slightly aware). The next day they continued. Outside the day was getting hot and the wind was causing chaos but inside we felt protected we were in a safe haven. I slept, walked around a bit, drank lots of water, nibbled on food, and breathed through these little waves of pressure. These waves eventually turned into surges with pressure both through my lower back and front. I totally lost track of time so I can only say that at some point Scott (my husband) started timing them (I still wasn’t really convinced that this could actually be it) and the surges were coming about every ten minutes (there was no established pattern). A few hours later they were still coming every ten minutes and lasting from 3o seconds to 2 minutes.

My day felt like a couple of hours, we had the hypnobirthing Christina O’Leary’s rainbow relaxation on repeat the whole day and night, and I can honestly say that all up I probably only heard it through one full time, I would take snippets of what she was saying; yellow mist surrounding you and would stay in that mist for a long time (essentially getting lost in the mist), the next time I would tune in the cd would be finishing.

Scott called the Birth Centre, the midwife suggested that we keep going as we were, as it didn’t sound like I was progressing very much. The day continued, Scott was amazing, rubbing my back, timing the surges and having little naps in between. This continued for most of the day, at some point the midwife suggested that we stop timing the surges and just let it happen. Later in the afternoon Scott alerted the family (my parents, brother and sister) that things were happening but it will probably take a while. At about 6ish I had a chat to the midwife who suggested that it might be useful to take a dimazapan and panadeine forte, as this would either a) let me have a rest or b) bring the labour on (not in an extreme way, more of an encouragement). We agreed to this and thought that we could send my sister to get them when she arrives. In the meantime Scott and I enjoyed a more natural method of encouragement. As pleasant as this was (albeit with pauses during surges) I don’t know whether it worked in bringing the labour on.

At 7.30pm my sister brought over some soup and went to get the pills, my parents also arrived around the same time (it was planned that they would be at the birth), which gave Scott a welcomed break from rubbing my back and keeping me hydrated. Our home had a lovely warm glow about it, I could feel it totally surrounding me and it felt wonderful. At 8 pm I had the dimazapan and panadeine forte along with a bath. I don’t think I lasted that long in the bath as it soon became too hot and the surges had started to increase. Between 8pm and 1.30am I was wrapped in a towel on our bed breathing through the surges that stayed at about 5-6mins apart but lasted for up to two minutes. I remember at a certain point going back and forth to the toilet between surges convinced that after I did a poo all would be better (meanwhile the midwife was still suggesting we stay at home). For the last hour or so at home I remember grabbing my left leg/buttock during each surge, nearly working against it, but felt that the breathing through it wasn’t working in the same way it was earlier. Looking back this was the same feeling I had when pushing at the Birth Centre, we probably should have left then…

At 1.30am Scott told the midwife that we were coming in (I think he spoke to her about 5-6 times throughout the whole period and I spoke to her 2-3 times), again she thought we were too relaxed and we wouldn’t be ready, but come in and check.

Leaving my bed was one of the hardest parts of the whole labour, everyone (Scott, parents and sister) had packed the cars full of the “necessary” equipment and now it was time for me to peel myself off the bed and make it to the car between surges. I would get up, get ready and quickly have to lie down, breathing through and then I was ready, the mad dash to the waiting lift, lying back on Scott and then fleeing the lift and jumping straight in the backseat of my parents car (our car had the capsule installed – no lying down there). Luckily (!) we managed to get nearly every red light in our 15 minute drive to the Birth Centre along with some night road works, but still it felt pretty amazing and special, us on our way to meet our child, our little convoy with no other cars on the road.

On arrival I wasn’t prepared to wait for the wheelchair (nor did I feel it was necessary), I walked straight in and was directed by our midwife Kelly (a new midwife, not the midwife whom we had been talking to on the phone). Kelly was fantastic, she let us settle and then asked whether I wanted an examination… “yes please”. And guess what, I was fully dilated and ready to go! We had the rainbow relaxation going and I had managed to pretty much stay in that headspace, although I was feeling a bit of lower back pain (in waves), but nothing much in between. We asked whether we could try the bath, so when it was ready in I went, it felt great but unfortunately I couldn’t quite harness the energy or force to correctly push, I wasn’t quite getting control of the force (this is the only way I could describe how to effectively push, the hyponobirthing “push” wasn’t very effective for me). Not that far into my time in the bath my waters broke and they were very lightly stained (there was also no mucus plug, which explains why I earlier didn’t quite believe I was in labour; no waters, mucus plug, nor had I “dropped”), Kelly monitored Poe’s heartbeat and all was well so she wasn’t too concerned. After observing us for a while and seeing that I wasn’t really harnessing the power of the surges adequately Kelly carefully suggested that we try the birth stool, me I was happy for some guidance. We hopped out of the bath (yes Scott had joined me at one point) and onto the stool. The stool was great, I leant back onto Scott and was able to pull up using the handles, we were there for about ½ hour before we went to the bed, on the bed it became a lot more vocal as I became aware of the feeling that was necessary to help my baby arrive, it felt very guttural, amazing and really tiring. My poor brother was listening outside the door, shaking his head saying “the poor thing” but luckily for me it wasn’t no where near as painful as it sounded. I equated this to fully releasing all of my energy, like those tennis players who make those grunting noises to use all of their brute force in a shot.

On the bed the midwife could see my blonde baby’s head; I have dark hair and dark skin and my husband also has dark hair, so this was both a shock and wonderfully amusing, who would have thought, and it won’t be long. So back on the birth stool, I was getting pretty tired but also knew it wouldn’t be long. My family came into the room and Kelly talked me through the crowning, I was absolutely focused on her, breathing, stopping and pushing whenever she said, she was amazing and I absolutely trusted her (which resulted in no tears at all, in fact a few hours later I could hardly believe that I had just given birth, this could also be thanks to yoga and the perineal massage) and then his head was out and then the rest of his body, she gave him a very quick wipe before placing him on my belly. Poe just stared at the light next to me, he looked around as peaceful and as aware as anything. After what felt like a few minutes he let out a wonderful cry. I loved that we were all transfixed by this beautiful boy that it took a while for my mother to look down and say “It’s a boy”. As we were holding him against my skin the placenta literally plopped out, I hardly noticed it happening. As Kelly quickly checked me over Poe was held by his sobbing father. He then hopped into bed with me, skin to skin and started feeding, it was amazing. All I felt was pure bliss and extreme but wonderful tiredness. My family went back to our place for some much needed sleep. Poe and Scott had a sleep next to me as I watched and loved my beautiful boys, my family.

Poe was born at about 4.45am and by 10.00am he was home sleeping on our bed as we all crowded around and stared. It was definitely the best day of my life, the birth was amazing and Poe is just the most wonderful little person ever, he is so happy, always smiling and laughing and has been really alert since day one

When I had my second child, because I knew to expect the type of pain a bit better, I felt more in control and better prepared. I birthed her also in a birth centre, also drug free, and even though it hurts, would do it with any other child that comes my way to be born. I’m someone who doesn’t cope very well with pain; I have a bad habit of fainting at inappropriate moments and don’t react well to needles or blood. If I can do this, I’d say anyone can. I also now empathise more with those annoying strangers who come up and tell you some ‘invaluable’ advice on the street when you’re pregnant. They’re people like me, who just really wish that someone had told them one crucial thing about birth, but didn’t; I now take the view that they’re honestly trying to ensure that you don’t birth without the one piece of knowledge that they themselves weren’t given. Feel their pain, take the advice graciously, and store it away for when you’re feeling your pain.

For the birth of my second child, I put it out there that I wanted to experience a blissful, orgasmic, ecstatic birth. And even though I remained quite lucid throughout, and things never got as psychedelic as my first birth experience, I did get to experience birth the way nature intended.  A transformational rite of passage that equipped me with all I needed, both physically, psychologically and spiritually, to capably mother this new baby.

My young family and I spent the pregnancy on the move.  We moved continents while squeezing in some traveling and visiting friends along the way.

We were in Canada, on the coast of Vancouver Island when my period never came. Hiking through lush rainforests with my toddler I could literally feel my cells spinning with life as this new ball of cells was doing just that and growing exponentially. I felt such a strong awareness throughout the pregnancy, completely connected to my body and this baby, which was so important for us as we moved through the act of birth.

Back in Australia, and with only two months until the expected due date, we felt the pressure to ‘nest’ and quickly found a place to rent. Setting up a house while heavily pregnant and caring for a two year old, with my husband still working full time was pretty stressful.  I struggled to gain any weight and the size of my womb remained unchanged for 3 weeks. I also came down with a fever.  Our dream property turned out to be more of a nightmare, so now, only two weeks to go, we hunted for a nest once again.  Five days before I was ‘due’ we moved. Moving all our belongings to our new place, my husband totally over exerted himself to get it all done. We were fighting off colds on top of it all.  Finally however my belly began to grow again.  I believe my body and baby knew the last house was not safe and so did not get ready for labour there. I was starting to feel like an animal in the wild that will gestate for longer if there is nowhere safe to birth. After trying to get the place somewhat settled and everything organized for the month following the birth I finally had some free time. I sat down to watch a dvd my midwife had lent me (which was ironically called: Orgasmic birth). After about 15 minutes the familiar achy sensations, that felt to me like a deep yearning for this baby, began.  I quickly turned off the dvd and hopped into bed, the line ‘false labour stops if you lie down’ playing over and over in my head.  After a few hours of sleep I woke to what I could no longer deny was in fact proper rushes, or contractions. It was all pretty easy going and so far apart, I was still firmly in my thinking brain as well, so I was sure it was going to be quite some time (a whole day even) before we got to meet our newest family member.  Leaving my husband sleeping in bed, I went to get everything ready for birth. I hadn’t even blown up the birth pool yet.  I took it out to the car, blew it up with the cigarette lighter pump (I had to turn the car on and a Lee Perry album was playing on the stereo. I felt a strong connection to the music and it became the soundtrack for my labour groove), brought it back inside and them rolled it up the stairs.  I was having pretty intense rushes the whole time, but it didn’t seem to slow me down any. Only when I had the pool upstairs did I realize that the bottom needed inflating too. The bike pump’s attachment was too large, so back down the stairs; outside to the car and then back up again, the birth pool and I went.

After finally getting the pool in place along with all the sheets and towels and other birth ‘gear’ I curled up on the couch to rest. The time between rushes had not increased and if the rushes themselves had increases in intensity I hadn’t noticed. I was able to doze off to sleep, wake up, have a rush, go back to sleep.  That went on for about an hour or two. After one rush, I stood up and swoosh… my waters broke.  It made a surprising loud ‘plop’ sound and took me by surprise (as my first baby was born in her caul, I had no idea what waters breaking would feel like). My husband heard it all, and called out ‘Call the midwife now!” On the phone to the midwife I was still quite rational and chatty, stopping only to breath through a rush. She said she’d make her way over.  I went upstairs again to fill the pool.  I couldn’t figure out how to get the hose to attach the tap in the bathroom and things were beginning to heat up. I now had to get down on my hands and knees. I gave up on the whole filling the birth pool idea, hoping Lianne the midwife would deal with when she got to the house. I started to feel the urge to push, so went downstairs to run myself a bath, where I figured I would hang out and wait for Lianne to arrive.  I turned the stereo on in the house and cued the same album that had been playing in the car and organizing a nice little labour playlist for myself, with a few hours of music on it, thinking id be pushing by the time the last album, Bob Marley’s Kaya, played.  The bath was full and I was so badly ready to push, I had been feeling the baby sliding it’s way down the birth canal for a while now.  In the bath I put my hand inside myself to check how far down the head was and if my cervix was fully open… It felt like the baby was about to fall out, but it wasn’t all-hard like a head should be, it felt more soft and squishing with a little lumpy node (which I assumed was my cervix) slightly off centre.  I thought to myself, I don’t care if I get a prolapsed uterus because of this- every part of my being is telling me to push. Kneeling into the water, with my head under and my shins along the bottom of the bath, I went with it and pushed. I could feel the baby sliding out. It felt good, and then as she slid out further the craziest thing happened: her legs uncurled and her little arms began to move around. I had just birthed her bum! A breech baby! What a trip, it didn’t faze me in the slightest though, I was completely chilled out while at the same time remembering everything I’d ever read and heard about breech birth (which was quite a lot actually, as educating myself about natural childbirth is a bit of a hobby of mine). I came back up onto all fours, and felt between her legs to see what sex our baby was. A little girl.  When I’d been feeling what I thought was my cervix I’d actually been feeling her labia instead. It seemed like there was a lot of time between rushes for me to process all of this.  Feeling her moving of her own accord reassured me that she was fine, but I did think that I shouldn’t mess around and get the head out fully next rush.  Then I felt the rush come over me, squatted back in the water with my head under and whoosh, Kirra was born. It had all happened so quick.  I was alone in the bathtub in the dark. I called upstairs to Mike, come down here NOW. I didn’t want to freak him out by saying the baby’s arrived, but I did want him there right away. I sat back as Kirra swum around, I unwrapped the cord from her neck and my beloved joined us in the bathroom. He wondered if she was okay, I assured him she was as we lifted her out and she took her first breaths. It was a lot to get our heads around. A little girl, who came out a surprise breech and I did it completely unassisted after only four hours of labour. The stereo was playing, only the second or third song since I started it. Mike wrapped Kirra up in a towel on my chest and set up some heaters in the bathroom. Some more time passed and then Lianne joined us. She then told me that when she listened to me experience that rush on the phone, she knew she wouldn’t make it in time. We talked awhile as Mike went outside to chop firewood. We talked about how efficient my body was and how I felt let down that I never got to that transcendental state I was expecting.  How even though my primal animal instincts were strong and helped me birth, I never fully got out of my thinking brain. I’m pretty sure we hung out in the bathroom for about an hour waiting for the placenta. It felt good to push out, but a little piece of membrane stayed attached for ages. It was hard work to let it go. Lianne suggested it was my body’s way of not fully letting go of the pregnancy; I had to really focus and accept that before it separated.

Even though I did not experience an totally out of this world, ecstatic and orgasmic birth, Kirra’s birth was still pretty amazing and there has been plenty of bliss since.  There was much bliss in curling up by the fireplace after getting out of the bath, early morning sunlight streaming in, Kirra sleeping softly on the couch above me, her placenta still attached and keeping her company.  There was much bliss in having such a skilled and capable midwife caring for us postpartum. There was much bliss in relishing heavenly goji berry, papaya and tahini porridge as my first post birth meal. There was absolute and total bliss in staying at home to birth, creating a sacred and safe place for our baby to enter the world. And as I look back and integrate the whole experience I realize now that Kirra’s birth rebirthed me. I feel a renewed sense of love and duty to the whole world and I feel like a newly wed with my husband again.  I am so completed and utterly in love with the little newborn babe, even through the long nights, when she doesn’t stop breastfeeding, at all. And I realize now that this state of bliss comes from the uninterrupted flow of hormones that began when Kirra signaled to my body that she was ready to come out. The flow of hormones and endorphins that was supported by choosing homebirth, an intervention free pregnancy, and trusting my body completely.  I am grateful and I am empowered and I am… oh so blissful.

As with my first son, I had a lovely non-eventful pregnancy, and was well cared for by my independent midwife, who was also the midwife who ‘caught’ Tyler.

Things began very slowly, on Wednesday night, I was in bed just dozing off, when I felt a pop, and some of my waters leaked out. I didn’t get any pains to speak of, so went back to bed and slept for the rest of the night, waking in the morning with some mild period like pains.
I was having bloody show, so thought my plug must be coming away, and there might be some action from my cervix.
Then all the leaking and bleeding stopped, so I thought – false alarm, and dh went off to work, but called a little later, and said he had decided to come home after all, which was nice, because I was getting light pains again, so thought things may be starting.
Nothing really happened at all, until about 3:30pm, when I began having contractions with a vengeance, and they were very intense, enough so that I had fleeting thoughts of ‘I want drugs!!’
I had one particularly strong contraction, and felt myself begin to grunt through it, and thought to myself: “that felt like i was pushing!”
I decided that was just silly, as I had only just gone into labour really, and didn’t mention it to my partner.
With the next contraction though, I yelled to Ian “OMG – I’m pushing!!”
He got straight on the phone to our midwife, who we had spoken to earlier, but we thought things were progressing slowly, so she was waiting for our call.
He was in such a panic, he did not even say who he was, just “You’ve gotta come now! She’s pushing!” His worst nightmare is the thought of an unassisted birth.

Up until now I had been in the living room, leaning on furniture, and pacing around, but could not stand up any more, and felt an intense need to take my skirt and knickers off, as I knew this baby would not be long in coming.
I crawled up the hallway towards the bedroom, where I wanted to birth my baby, resting with contractions, and calling instructions to dh to lay down plastic and sheets.
I was in the bedroom pushing nicely, with dh applying hot towels to my lower back when our doula arrived, (we had rung her previously, and asked her to come when she was ready) and dh was so happy, to no longer be by himself with me, he almost cried!!
Our doula was great, she got straight onto the hot towels, and was strongly massaging my lower back with each contraction.
A little while later our midwife arrived, and by this time Louie’s head was on show with each contraction, a piece about the size of a 10-cent piece.
He was eventually born about an hour later, and was very white, just covered in vernix, as he was a little early by my dates.
He needed a little bit of mucous suctioned out of his nose and mouth, and a whiff of O2 to get him breathing properly.
Unfortunately I tore a fair bit, and needed to be stitched by our midwife, not something I would like to go through every day!

Our 2 year old son was present for the whole birth, and he was just great, took everything in his stride, was not distressed in the least, spent most of his time bouncing on the bed, or reading books, playing with toys, etc.
Even when I was being quite vocal, it didn’t phase him, he just gave me a couple of funny looks
We are very indebted to our Doula, as she helped out in so many ways, including supporting our toddler, and really helping to keep him feeling safe, happy, and at ease.

All in all, it was a simply wonderful birth, and best of all, it was at home!

Louie was born at 7:22pm after 4 hours of active labour, 8 lb 2 oz on the 19th of January.

He had apgars of 9, and 10.

It Was supposed to be a Waterbirth! The Homebirth of Marley (05/05/09)

This baby really wanted to be born, he snuck in right under the radar, only days after Ian and I agreed completely we were only having two children, I suddenly realised my period was late, and when I tested, hey presto, pregnant!

I rang my doula of choice straight away, worried she may be booked out, I had decided I did not want to have a midwife present at this birth, I wanted an unhindered birth, and this doula provided exactly the kind of support I was looking for.

This was a really different pregnancy for me, a lot more difficult than my first two, which I put down to me not being terribly fit beforehand, whereas I had been for the others.

I plodded along feeling pretty tired, running around after my two other youngsters, slowly getting bigger and bigger, seemingly much bigger than ever.

I was getting great support from my doula, we had long lovely meetings where we chewed over the failings of the maternity system in Australia.

I watched a good number of really inspiring homebirth dvds during my pregnancy, getting the boys to watch as well, to make sure they were prepared for how I may look and sound in labour, they really enjoyed them, which was reassuring.

I fully expected to give birth a little before my ‘due date’ as Louie had been a week ‘early’ and I was tandem nursing, something I expected to impact my pregnancy by the end.

Well, ‘due date’ came and went, I was not really coping with it too well, I was determined to let bub come in his own time, but was surprised (and annoyed! Whoops!) at how wrong I was about him being early.

I got a pretty bad cough around this time, and a few days later I popped some cartilage in my ribs from coughing, wow, the pain was just excruciating! I couldn’t really take anything for the pain and I didn’t really want to being pregnant. I went to see my doc, I just wanted to get my ribs taped up, and see if I could heal up before I went into labour. I was in a bit of a panic about it all, it was so painful.

My doc was not at all reassuring, in fact she told me to go straight to the hospital and be assessed for a c/s. Hmmm…. I don’t think so.

I decided to simply wait it out, and see if I could heal up, so from wanting bub out in a hurry, I was now willing him to wait, wait, wait, and let me be able to cope with a homebirth.

I was healing well, and then I did it again, more cartilage was torn, I was over 41 weeks now, and really feeling stressed about it all. I just kept trying to heal up, still willing bub to stay put, and finally, on the evening of 41 weeks and 5 days, I got a bloody show, and started having the mildest of contractions.

This was around 9pm, so I rang my doula, just to let her know something ‘may’ be happening. I really couldn’t sleep, and the pains were niggly enough to make Ian think full blown labour might be imminent, so he convinced me to ring my doula again, and ask her to come over.

Well, she came, and nothing changed. We all tried to get some sleep, and that morning I was a bit annoyed it was not really happening, and feeling silly for having got my doula out so early.

We could see bub had his butt sticking out of my belly on the right side, and my doula offered to do some rebozo work on me to see if we could straighten him up. She put the rebozo around my back, and held both ends, and pulling the ends alternately, she flicked my belly side to side. It felt lovely and relaxing, and then suddenly I felt a really odd sensation, I could feel bub sliding further down into my pelvis.

I lay down for a sleep, and it must have been less than 10 minutes later, my waters broke, rather more than a trickle, this was midday. I was elated, good progress at last!! Yay for the rebozo technique!

I was chatting to my doula out by the clothesline (she was getting the washing in!) and suddenly had a doozy of a contraction, waters leaking like crazy, I realized there was no point having any clothes on any longer, so stripped off on the back lawn, and I had a huge bloody show from that one contraction, things were really heating up. This was about 1:30pm.

I asked for the birth pool to be filled up, dying to get in, and while I was waiting I had a couple of really good contractions while leaning on the edge of the deck, I must have been in transition at this stage, as the thoughts of “Whose stupid idea was a homebirth?” flitted briefly across my mind, and then I started to get ‘pushy’ feelings with the next contractions.

I got into the pool, and it immediately felt really wrong, I couldn’t get comfortable, I felt totally ungrounded, and like a beached whale that was just floating this way and that, I just had to get out of there.

We moved into the lounge, but I felt too exposed there as well, so my doula hung her rebozo over a door in the hallway for me to hold onto while in a semi squat. It was a really good position for me, but my hands couldn’t hold on after a while, they were just too tired, I was gripping it too tightly and the muscles in my hands were giving out.

We moved to the bedroom (where my second son was born as well) and I leaned over the edge of my bed. It felt too low, so we found the ironing board, and I leaned over that with my head on a pillow, grasping it like it was my lover, trying to breathe my way through every contraction, trying to relax as much as humanly possible, labour was really underway, and my body was intent on pushing this bub out.

I have long pushing stages unfortunately, and this was no exception, just over 2 hours of pushing, and then bubs head was on view. I put my hand down on my vagina to feel this little head sitting right on my perineum, pushing its way out of my body.

I find crowning such a difficult part of labour, the pain is so intense for me I tend to push way to hard to get my bubs out, and tear badly. I was SO determined this time not to make that mistake, and I made myself go ‘elsewhere’ while the crowning was happening; just relaxing while my body did all the work.

When my doula could see bub was about to pop out, she called to Ian to come to the bedroom to see, and I immediately tensed up, and said “No, I don’t want them here!” I was working so hard getting this crowning right, I kind of got stage fright, and didn’t want to be watched. I felt my body close up, and the baby got sucked back up into my body, it was a really uncanny feeling.

My doula stalled everyone, and I got back to labouring to get this baby out, it took a few more full on contractions until baby was back to crowning again, and then out he came, he had his fist tightly stuck to his head, and this meant I had to work a little to get him out, and as his head emerged, with two loops of cord, his arm came at the same time, then his whole body slipped out really easily.

He breathed pretty much straight away, and was quite mucously, so I faced him slightly down to drain it out.

I was overwhelmed that it was all over, and I was sitting on my bedroom floor with a gorgeous baby in my arms. I didn’t look to see what sex he was, I just stared and stared at him, until Ian broke into my reverie to ask “what have we got?” and that was when I discovered I was the mum of three boys!

Marley was 9lb 4oz, my biggest baby by far.

My big fear of bleeding was unfounded, I hardly bled at all afterwards, and my placenta came out really easily after a couple of pushes. I also had only a small tear, nothing which would need stitching, I just treated it with colloidal silver spray, and it healed very easily.

Marley was very interested in the breast straight away, and as soon as I got him positioned right, he latched on really strongly, and fed like a little champ.

So, I proved the doctor wrong, no unnecesarean needed, although my ribs were extremely sore afterwards, two and a half weeks on, they are still sore every morning when I wake up, but get a lot better during the day.

I did REALLY want a waterbirth, but obviously I am just a land birther, I like to have my feet planted squarely on the ground to bring these babies earthside.

I am ecstatic with my choice to have no midwife present, this was my best birth so far, my doula provided the most amazing emotional support I could have wished for, if I ever have any more babies (I’m not) I would definitely have my doula again.

My lovely doula very kindly prepared the placenta for me, she made me a placenta smoothie to drink immediately after the birth, and cut the rest into small pieces so I can eat them every day to stave off a repeat performance of PND.

So far it seems to be working a treat, I’m feeling pretty upbeat despite being fairly sleep deprived.

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.