I very much went with the flow during my first pregnancy and in planning for the birth. Pain relief? I’ll just see how it goes. Ideally not an induction but I guess if it’s offered? And I’m presuming I’ll be out walking the dog the next day, right? Needless to say it ended up with an induction after reaching the dreaded 42 week mark, my son being pulled out with no intention of leaving his cosy home and a 2 day bonus stay after we both picked up infections after the birth. 

 

3 years later, an ensuing midwifery degree and my naivety around childbirth banished, I entered into this second pregnancy a new woman, determined to reclaim birth and bask in the oxytocin bubble I’d seen women before me do in homebirths I’d witnessed. It seemed a no brainer with a low-risk pregnancy and a husband so supportive of the plan. I knew going post term was likely again, given my first pregnancy, but decided to remain positive and drank my teas, ate my dates and did all the biomechanics. 

 

Alas, my due date came and went with no signs a baby would make an appearance anytime soon. My 12 week scan put my dates a week earlier than I knew they were, so I felt pretty confident in leaving things a bit longer and was very much supported from the sidelines by my midwives. However, the closer I crept towards the 42 week mark, the more I knew a conversation regarding induction was looming. Given my previous experience, I was not interested in accepting one without strong reasoning but knew the alternative would be advocating for myself and continuing ‘outside of guidelines’. So, at around 41 weeks I had a sweep, which I had some mild cramping after but nothing too exciting. A couple days later, I lost my mucus plug, something that hadn’t happened in my first pregnancy. I went to bed each night, excitedly thinking that might be the night and woke up each morning deflated with no baby. It felt like going to sleep on Christmas Eve and waking up realising Santa hadn’t come, over and over again. What added to the frustration was that I felt great. Annoyingly great. No aches and pains, my sleep only broken by the thoughts swirling in my mind and no niggles whatsoever. But I held onto my mantra that baby’s come when they’re ready and needed to trust in that implicitly.

 

With no baby by 42 weeks, I was counselled by a senior midwife on my decision to continue with my plan for a homebirth. There was no doubt in my mind that I was having a homebirth now - I’d committed to the dream - and I felt totally supported by the midwives who laid out all the information but encouraged me to trust my instincts, whatever they were. However the next 4 days were mentally exhausting. Well wishing messages asking for news made me feel like I was letting friends and family down by not having a baby sooner (ridiculous I know) and the responsibility of continuing outside of guidelines was permeating my every thought and affecting my sleep. I was going on some very long walks up some very steep hills which helped escape some of the noise, and I found enormous comfort in reading stories of successful post term homebirths, a reason why I’m so passionate to share my own. I’d booked another sweep in for Thursday morning, but on Wednesday night, went to bed with very mild cramps, a little more regular than the Braxton Hicks I’d been experiencing on and off through the third trimester. This is it I thought, but I woke up at my standard 3am ‘check in’ to nothing more. Dejected once again, I went about my morning anxious to get the sweep out the way but feeling a glimmer of hope when I realised this incredibly mild cramp was occurring roughly every hour. Sweep complete and all cramping stopped. Fantastic I thought. This baby’s never coming and I’m just never going to go into labour. Off I went on another long walk with the dog and my thoughts, and came home to have a little sob to my husband. I didn’t know how much longer I could go on for mentally, so we agreed to give it the weekend and revisit how I was feeling on Monday, with a high chance of giving in and going for induction. Having his unending support was so comforting. He was also completely sold on the idea of homebirth after I’d regaled him with tales and he’d done his own homework (shout out Ina May Gaskin), so when my confidence was faltering, he built me back up and reminded me to trust myself. 

 

I good friend also dropped by that evening with some crystals she’d energised in Glastonbury’s Challice Well for me. I’m not really the crystal type but thought anything was worth a shot by now, plus laughing about the magic crystals sending me into labour took my mind off the seriousness of the last week. I spent the rest of the evening holding the crystals, watching Fleabag and deciding to forget about everything until Monday when there would inevitably still be no baby and some decisions to be made. I went to bed with the crystals on my bedside and expecting nothing. 

 

That night, my son came in to our room about 3am which is rare for him. My husband resettled him back in his bed and I went back to sleep, cramps gone. However I awoke a couple of hours later to something that felt a bit stronger. Another one followed about 10 minutes later, then another. Knowing that this could be labour starting, and that it could go on for hours if not days, I tried to sleep through them, but they kept getting stronger and were now coming every 5 minutes. I crept out of the room to go for a wee, but as soon as I sat on the toilet the intensity ramped up and I found myself tapping into my hypnobreathing already. “Get a grip” I thought to myself “it’s only just started!” and I casually made my way back to bed, birth comb squeezed in my hand. My husband (Tim) woke up to ask if I was ok. “Just a bit of back pain” I said, but got caught out when a contraction took my breath away and he asked if I was in labour. “Yeah but this is going to go on for ages so just go back to sleep” I told him, but after another contraction he said he’d better stay awake. I thought I’d give the TENS machine a go this time round - I hated it during my first labour - but before long, I’d run out of levels to boost it up to. Lying on my side was doing me no favours and the heat from the shower I’d tried had made me feel sick, so I decided I’d have a wander around my house. 

 

Tim was busy organising dog and child care while I moved on my ball and swayed at the kitchen island. Typically, our son chose that morning to have a lie in, but by 8am Tim was dropping him to Pre-school and the midwives were on their way. Alone in the house, things got intense quickly. The moment Tim left, I felt my body bear down. My baby was rolling and twisting inside me and I could feel and see them moving down. I remember at this point being in total awe of my body. I had relinquished all control and let nature take over. But I wasn’t scared. Rather, it felt totally surreal and freeing. My only worry was that this baby would come while I was on my own, but even then I felt powerful enough to take that on. Thankfully, Tim arrived home, followed by the midwives, Kay and Aly, shortly after with the baby still in situ! 

 

Kay had a first listen in to the baby’s heartbeat, which was a lot slower than expected, so I was offered an examination to determine progression and make a plan. I was confirmed to be fully dilated with big, bulging waters in front of baby’s head, so I agreed to have my waters broken which instantly bought their heart rate back up and provided an immense release of pressure for me. From that point, every movement inside me felt so vivid and I knew we’d have a baby any moment. I knelt on the floor, resting over the birth pool (I forgot to mention, Tim had been trying to fill the pool all morning but it had only got to ankle height. Turns out water pressure on a Friday morning is pathetic!) and let my body push. 

 

At 08.50am, 42+4 weeks after his ‘formal’ eviction notice and 4 hours after that first contraction, our 4.1kg baby boy was born into a sunny Spring day. We’d done it. All the questioning, sleepless nights and steep hills were worth it. Plus I am now a firm believer in the power of a crystal. The fabulous midwives were gone within a couple of hours, having cleaned the kitchen floor the best it’s ever looked, and I had the privilege of taking a shower in my own shower and eating beans on toast on my own sofa! That post birth feeling + being in your own home is unmatched. In the days that followed, gobbling up the bliss of our new addition, I felt immense pride in myself. For trusting my gut. For believing in the process. For having an epic support system around me that never once doubted. And for being patient. Birth is wild and rebellious. It’s powerful, unpredictable and it doesn’t conform. But it doesn’t have to be scary. In fact, this birth gave me a superpower I didn’t even know I had.