Chalk and cheese - June, Birmingham

I have given birth twice, each time to a boy, each time the boy was a good weight and the labour started naturally approx. 24 hours after a sweep, each time the boy was in a back to back position and neither boy was on time, although D (no 2) was only 2 days late. That is where the comparisons end, and yet I approached each one with a similar attitude and disinclination towards pain relief.

Baby no 1 J was born 9lb 12oz (that’s right…) back to back after 33 hours. He was born screaming I would imagine, pulled, tugged, crunched by forceps, yanked into the bright lights of a delivery room one Saturday in October 2011. I say I imagine because I cannot remember. I remember bits. The bright lights, the pain, me shouting ‘You’re hurting him’.  I remember the panic, the feeling that my body had let me down, let him down; had failed us both. And the exhaustion. Not being able to hold him when we were back in the ward. Too tired to feed him. He was so tired he didn't even cry for food. Relief that he was too exhausted to want to feed. Just watching him in his little cot with the strangest mixed feelings... That was not what I’d expected. I loved him so much. In the weeks after the desperate love and guilt that he’d had such a terrible journey into the world affected our ability to breastfeed, even to bottle feed happily. I was finally able to relax when I weaned him. That’s that over with I felt. I never ever wanted to repeat the experience.

That’s not to say we didn’t want more children. Beautiful J; how could we not want more? As the months went by I gradually let go of the birth experience and we started trying. When we were booked in by a midwife and she said ‘Have you thought of a home birth?’ I was at first dismissive. But her words stayed with me ‘Don’t just assume you’re doomed to repeat the last labour and birth; second births are much easier. If you go into it in a positive mood you might give yourself an easier experience’

It was a nice idea. But my husband wouldn’t want to. My in laws would say I’m crazy. My mum would stress.

But it drew closer and it became clear that a home birth was something I kept being drawn to. It was the only way to guarantee a birth pool (but not a water birth), the only way to ensure consistency of care, and keep me far removed from epidurals and forceps. A tour of the hospital left me in no doubt that I did not want to go back.

It was official. The box was delivered, the midwife signed me off (after a scan to check he was not breech, as feared), the pool was bought and tested for leaks, the books read and digested, the date came and went. I went for my sweep. I was told I was 1cm dilated but nothing would happen soon unless I started spontaneously dilating, which seemed to her unlikely.

One and a half days later we put J to bed and I looked at my angel and knew someday soon an era would end. I served up dinner and had a bit of a tummy ache. We eat together and I told my husband afterwards about my tummy ache and when I felt my tummy it was rock hard. We watched some telly, feeling relaxed and knowing everything was in place. After a short while I started breathing through the contractions. This was it! With no idea of how long a night it might be my husband phoned J’s godmother to tell her she might need to collect him in the morning and we called the Home Birth phone number. This was especially for anyone going into labour in the evening, when the community midwives handed over to the hospital. The message said the number was not working. Not working?!!! A few more goes bore no result. We called Triage: engaged each time. Finally, in between contractions, switchboard put me through. They had to call me back. Contractions were getting stronger and about 30 seconds in length but 5 minutes apart (they actually never lasted any longer than 30-40 seconds usually). The midwife said no midwives were available. I protested. “You can talk to the head midwife if you want but there isn’t anyone available, we’re very busy; you’ll have to come in” she said grumpily. I told her I’d been assured they could juggle staff in this scenario and she needed to make it happen because I was having the baby at home and didn’t want to do so alone.

“Are you refusing to come in then?” I said: “Just do what you have to do!”

I hung up and felt desperate. Hubby said we’d just have to go in then. But 15 minutes later a midwife called Gemma called and said they were on their way. The relief! This turned out to be the only hiccouph in the process and the minute they arrived I relaxed. They were so calm and relaxed, smiley but not in your face. I just got on with my breathing and being on all fours (to turn the baby if he was still back to back). I’d done natal hypnotherapy and was nice and relaxed. Hubby brought a cold flannel for my shoulders: it was beautiful! He also made me laugh a few times and there was a calm happy air in the room as he filled up the birth pool.

After going to the loo for a wee they said they’d better investigate me to see how dilated I was. No one was in any real hurry. Suddenly as I lay down my waters broke. (I’d been so worried that this wouldn’t happen naturally, like the last time). Then the midwife said “Oh my god you’re 9 and a half cms dilated; you’re going to have your baby at any moment! You need to get in that pool otherwise your husband will kill me!” I took off my tens machine when I got up, relieved myself (oh the shame!) hobbled across the floor to the pool (wishing I’d kept the damn machine on – hardest hobble of my life), hopped in (all a blur), squatted, pushed and out came the head. The water was so helpful! As soon as I got in I knew I’d be ok. Another push and out he came, wriggling in my hands, covered in white gunk; perfect!

We spent another 40 minutes in there and then I delivered the placenta in the pool while they weighed him. Those 40 minutes were so lovely; me and my husband just basked in the warmth of it all. Delivering the placenta didn't hurt and the gas and air arrived as I was about to be stitched up (only minor) and I said I didn't need it.

I went to bed cradling my new baby I think it was 2 o'clock ish and my husband cleaned the pool out. He came to bed at 4am. The next morning he brought our toddler in when he woke up and we introduced him to his new baby brother.

Amazing J