I wasn’t just confident or fearless. I was excited to experience the fullness of labour.
Following a beautiful first birth with Milo, thanks to my ethereal doula
@annamaria_boelskov , gave me agency to elevate Anouks birth and have her at home, with the incredible
@midwifejohunter
But nothing could prepare me for the life changing experience a home birth could be.
Calling our midwife as labour had picked up.
I get into the birth pool.
Milo swims around me like a tadpole but rests his little hand on my back with every groan.
Hours in, my labour begins to slow, realising not only am I not progressing as quick as I would like, the baby seems to be posterior.
Sighing, we bunker down, knowing it’s going to be a long night.
Jo encourages me to lay on my side (to help baby rotate) and try to take naps between each surge.
Jordan puts Milo to bed and my midwife’s go out for dinner. I’m left on the couch alone, my parents pottering around, keeping the birth pool at a perfect 37 degrees.
While I am alone in my labour, my body decides that in my solitude, now is the time. That birth is a solo journey of unveiling and discovering; my body, my mind and my strength.
Transition cascades before anyone notices and here I am in my living room climbing into my birth pool. Gripping my father’s legs with each contraction.
Mum goes to wake Jordan who had fallen asleep with Milo. “Get in the pool, the baby is coming!”
Midwives on loud speaker as they rush back.
My waters break as her head emerged, I free birth her into the pool. Mum picks her up and places her on my chest. And with her first breath Anouk makes her voice known.
Moments later the midwife’s arrive.
The birth of my dreams.
