Alexei's Home Water Birth
It's been almost 6 weeks since our lovely 'Smallest' was born by candlelight in our loungeroom, and somehow my brain hasn't been nagging me with an entry to the story of Alexei's birth. I think it's partly that keeping up with three healthy, feisty, somewhat demanding boys has me so busy (and tired!) that there's no room in my mind for the creative task of writing, and partly that my most recent journey to birth was not the tale of intervention and learning that Zeke's was, nor the fight to birth how I wanted as I had with Liam, but rather a wonderfully normal, low key and relaxed experience, that as beautiful as it was, doesn't actually inspire my muse, who truth be told, has a flair for the dramatic. However, even with my muse on holiday, I very much want to share our story, especially while the memories are still fresh, so here goes...
Alexei's story begins before I was pregnant, about 6 or so months after Liam joined us. We were thrilled with our newest family member, not to mention still sleep deprived and shocked by how much work one little baby could add to our day, and the idea of another one was pretty well out of the question as far as we were concerned, we couldn't possibly imagine coping with a third child at this point! It seemed the universe or fate or karma or something had other ideas though, as late one evening, years before he would be desired or conceived, and we called Alexei to us. We were standing around on our front step, chatting with a couple who we're very close to, stalling (as is our habit, many late nights have been shared with the 4 of us) actually calling it a night and saying goodbye, when Ryan started in on his love for Children of Bodom, a Finnish metal group, who I can barely tolerate. It turns out the guitar Ryan used to play himself down the aisle at our wedding is the signature series of Alexi Laiho the lead guitarist and singer from Bodom, and is known as an Alexi - it's easily the most valuable guitar, emotionally as well as financially he owns. (Ryan had also recently been to a signing and had his Alexi signed by Alexi himself!) Anyway, with Ryan once more professing his love for Bodom, and specifically the guitarist, one of our friends jokingly asked "Well if you love him so much why don't you name a child after him?" we both laughed like crazy, no way were we going to have anymore children. But then, "You know if we did have another baby it would be a boy for sure!" (We rather wanted a girl, Murphy's Law and all that.) "Yeah, though Alexi John sounds pretty good doesn't it?" (John had been a close second for Liam's middle name, deciding that Liam James looked better on paper, so using it for a third son was a logical progression.) "Okay then, if we ever have another baby (not!) we'll call him Alexi John!" and we all fell around laughing at the ridiculous idea of Ryan and I having a third baby.
So, Alexei John, the baby we'd never have was named. (I thought, wrongly, that our inspiration for the name was spelled Alexei rather than Alexi, and we agreed during my pregnancy we preferred the ei ending.) However not long after that, the phrase "Alexei's Home Water Birth" sang its way into my mind, I could clearly envision birthing this purely dream child in the large corner spa in our bathroom, the home birth I'd wanted since my first birth, lifting him out of the water myself, with Ryan close by. Even when we moved house, away from the big bath, the idea of home birthing Alexei stayed in my heart. At first, I didn't think much of it, I only wanted a third child if it would be a girl, not this little boy I could so clearly picture, and Ryan felt the same, but still Alexei stayed near me, and gradually I felt as though there was room for a third baby no matter what gender. I've been spectacularly wrong as far as mother's intuition regarding my previous pregnancies, so when (some months after me) Ryan agreed there was a space in our family, I still thought we'd have a girl, and figured Alexei was a flight of fancy. We also agreed that we'd be having a homebirth this time, it just felt like the logical option, we'd always thought it was a good idea when everyone was healthy, and with a successful and easy VBAC under my belt, and not liking the hospital environment, or the restrictions put on me to labour their way rather than my own, it simply felt like the right choice for us.
I was hopeful but not expecting that like with Liam, we'd get lucky right away, and when we didn't, I began to chart, realising that breastfeeding Liam was throwing my cycle off, although even with being able to time things more accurately, nothing happened. Then we got notice to move house, the owners wanted to move in at the end of the lease, so packing and house hunting was on the agenda too. Fortunately we found a new house quickly, a house that the second I walked into to inspect, I could see us having a homebirth in, and realised I had never been able to picture it in our current house, and my body knew it too, as not long after we'd settled into the new house, I saw two pink lines, just a few days after Liam's second birthday - exactly the same timing as we'd seen a positive test with Liam, a few days after Zeke's second birthday. Suddenly the waiting made sense, I needed a space I felt comfortable birthing in, and I'd loved the age gap between Zeke and Liam so this baby had chosen the same again, everything just felt right, the same way imagining birthing Alexei at home did, though I still thought we might have a girl!
Although there'd been little soul searching or debating about having a baby at home as the choice immediately felt right to both of us, not long after knowing I was pregnant, Ryan and I spent ages talking about other matters. We decided we would not be telling anyone the exact due date, with the exception of care providers, talked about when we'd plan for hospital birth instead of home, and set about finding a midwife who would support a hospital birth, and not leave us feeling pressured into staying home, in circumstances which, although not life threatening or requiring immediate medical intervention, we would feel more comfortable birthing with in a hospital. It was also important to us that the midwife we hired was respectful and supportive of Ryan’s involvement and presence throughout the pregnancy and labour, and was aware that his presence was of utmost importance to me, as our previous IM from Liam’s birth made him feel as though he was an intruder for wanting to be involved with, and informed about his son’s birth. Our first midwife meeting was exactly that! She looked at the birth just as I did, ‘just’ a birth, and had the same non-emergency hospital birth situations in her mind, I actually doubted at first that she could be the midwife I wanted as I’d heard so many women needing to shop around and interview several before making a choice, however Ryan and I agreed quickly, after talking to a few others, that she was the one for us.
And so, with a midwife chosen, and beginning to break the news (but not the due date) to our family and friends, we were set... or so I thought. Job offers were scarce and the area we were living cost a lot of money, so we were struggling to make ends meet, suddenly it looked as though the home birth in front of the fireplace would not be an option. As we were beginning to explore our other moves, including breaking a lease early, Ryan got an offer from his friend, 3 hours away, to move to Ballarat for more work. I was uncertain at first, it would mean giving up my midwife, as the travel time was just too far for her to consider, especially if I began labour during peak hour, and was further than I’d ever lived from anyone I knew well. Still, living in Warburton was putting a hole in our pockets that grew every week, there were good schools up there, and the cost of living was cheaper, and we crossed our fingers and took the plunge.
We ended up moving when I was around 19 weeks along, which was not without its dramas and stresses, and shortly after I organised to meet a new midwife, Kusum, who would support a home birth at our new location. Well, I’ve spoken to some other mama friends who have had the same midwife present at their births and there seems to be this unanimous verdict of “You just fall in love with her” - it was no different for us, we knew immediately she was the midwife for us. Happy to follow our lead as far as the ‘vibes’ for this birth went, knowledgeable and respectful, and just as friendly toward our boisterous sons as she was toward Ryan and me. She brought a calm, centred and trusting energy into the house whenever she visited, and always had time to explain to Zeke and Liam what she was doing, letting them use her stethoscope, and feel the baby as well. I found myself looking forward to her visits, and wishing they were more frequent, although I and the baby were going great aside from some lingering nausea, just because she was so lovely! The boys were excited whenever she visited too, and quickly learnt to recognise her car, and would run around, gathering toys and things to show off to her when she arrived, which she always had time to see, she really was amazing! The rest of our birth team fell into place easily as well, we met a couple of midwives to be a secondary as there was one weekend near my due date that Kusum would be away, and found a lovely trainee doula, Nikkie to be present as an extra pair of hands and keep the boys out of the way if I wanted some quiet while I birthed, I would be her first home birth she attended, and I felt quite excited and privileged to have that honour. My beautiful doula, Julie who had been present at Zeke’s birth, and a wealth of wisdom for Liam’s (although she had been unavailable for the birth itself), was just 10 minutes away when we lived in Warburton, however when we moved, she agreed to make the drive for us, although given the length of the drive we knew she might miss the main event, still, I was confident she’d have plenty of warning, I’d had a long, slow warm up with Liam and plenty of time to let everyone know things were going to happen soon. With 4 such lovely women on this journey with me, I quickly began to anticipate not just meeting my new baby, but the birth itself, a first for me.
And so, with a midwife chosen, and beginning to break the news (but not the due date) to our family and friends, we were set... or so I thought. Job offers were scarce and the area we were living cost a lot of money, so we were struggling to make ends meet, suddenly it looked as though the home birth in front of the fireplace would not be an option. As we were beginning to explore our other moves, including breaking a lease early, Ryan got an offer from his friend, 3 hours away, to move to Ballarat for more work. I was uncertain at first, it would mean giving up my midwife, as the travel time was just too far for her to consider, especially if I began labour during peak hour, and was further than I’d ever lived from anyone I knew well. Still, living in Warburton was putting a hole in our pockets that grew every week, there were good schools up there, and the cost of living was cheaper, and we crossed our fingers and took the plunge.
We ended up moving when I was around 19 weeks along, which was not without its dramas and stresses, and shortly after I organised to meet a new midwife, Kusum, who would support a home birth at our new location. Well, I’ve spoken to some other mama friends who have had the same midwife present at their births and there seems to be this unanimous verdict of “You just fall in love with her” - it was no different for us, we knew immediately she was the midwife for us. Happy to follow our lead as far as the ‘vibes’ for this birth went, knowledgeable and respectful, and just as friendly toward our boisterous sons as she was toward Ryan and me. She brought a calm, centred and trusting energy into the house whenever she visited, and always had time to explain to Zeke and Liam what she was doing, letting them use her stethoscope, and feel the baby as well. I found myself looking forward to her visits, and wishing they were more frequent, although I and the baby were going great aside from some lingering nausea, just because she was so lovely! The boys were excited whenever she visited too, and quickly learnt to recognise her car, and would run around, gathering toys and things to show off to her when she arrived, which she always had time to see, she really was amazing! The rest of our birth team fell into place easily as well, we met a couple of midwives to be a secondary as there was one weekend near my due date that Kusum would be away, and found a lovely trainee doula, Nikkie to be present as an extra pair of hands and keep the boys out of the way if I wanted some quiet while I birthed, I would be her first home birth she attended, and I felt quite excited and privileged to have that honour. My beautiful doula, Julie who had been present at Zeke’s birth, and a wealth of wisdom for Liam’s (although she had been unavailable for the birth itself), was just 10 minutes away when we lived in Warburton, however when we moved, she agreed to make the drive for us, although given the length of the drive we knew she might miss the main event, still, I was confident she’d have plenty of warning, I’d had a long, slow warm up with Liam and plenty of time to let everyone know things were going to happen soon. With 4 such lovely women on this journey with me, I quickly began to anticipate not just meeting my new baby, but the birth itself, a first for me.
A couple of weeks after the move I organised an ultrasound, to confirm that there was only one baby (I’d have been utterly shocked if not), to check the placenta location, and - after much discussion - to find out whether it was a boy or a girl I was growing. Both Ryan and I still hoped, despite all the ‘signs’ suggesting it would be not only a boy, but specifically Alexei, that we’d find it was a girl. We had loved the surprise of waiting till baby day with Zeke, but Liam had other ideas, and found we’d preferred the bonding process of knowing who the baby was before their birth. I woke up the morning of the ultrasound, an intense calm came over me, and I knew at once that the baby was a boy, but even with the calm and knowing, the hours until the ultrasound felt like forever. I was not very surprised later that afternoon to discover that I was indeed carrying a boy, there was no doubt about it, like Liam, Alexei had everything clearly on display. I had only the briefest moment of disappointment for the daughter I wouldn’t be having, and was far more taken with the idea that this little boy I was carrying was the one I’d known for so long. When the lady doing the ultrasound confirmed the placenta was clear of the cervix, I asked where exactly it was, as I had a fair idea based on where I felt the kicks - what a boost to the ego and mama’s intuition to find out I was right, it was lying high up on the left side, just where the kicks were no more than featherlight nudges compared to the hefty booting on my right!
So we knew everything we needed to know, and a home birth was on the cards, my biggest issue was my ever wonky hips and pelvis causing pain and instability. Again regular physio visits became part of my routine, although I ended up using crutches to take the weight and strain off my hips for the last 3 or so weeks. Aside from my hips, it was a beautifully textbook pregnancy, even the nausea behaved to order, just lasting until I began to feel kicks so I would not worry about the baby (around 14 weeks), and not so bad as to be debilitating or a concern for my health. Some vicious heartburn kicked in around second trimester, but as my physiotherapist straightened my hips out, I found that eased too - I must have been pretty crooked and upsetting my digestive tract. All in all, I was just really enjoying the pregnancy, the new house and getting acquainted with a new area to live in, and meeting some lovely women when I joined the local Birthing and Babies group.
The next few months flew by in midwife visits, booking a back up at the local hospital, deciding I didn’t like them, keeping an eye on my iffy iron levels, not to mention parenting Zeke and Liam, and choosing a new primary school for Zeke for the following year. I was still not telling anyone my due date (the hospital had one, and Kusum had another - she used the Woods Method of counting, which I agreed with more as it fitted my previous pregnancy patterns), but I’d made it clear that I would not be hounded about when this baby would arrive, and found that keeping the date to myself - though no easy feat with pregnancy brain, I nearly slipped a few times! - was far preferable to everyone knowing exactly when I was 40 weeks.
I had a beautiful blessingway at 36 weeks, the last trip I was prepared to make to Melbourne until I’d given birth, and left the weekend feeling loved, pampered and totally empowered. I had the gathering out east, at a friend’s house so all my closest women friends could be there, and received a wonderfully meaningful collection of candles and beads for my birth space. With henna on my belly, and and filled to bursting with positive love and excitment for this baby, all I felt I needed to do was wait (other than collect more towels, plastic sheeting and tidy the house of course!)
There were a few special dates as 40 weeks neared, my grandmother and father-in-law’s birthday as well as my parent’s 30th anniversary on the 25th of November, my other grandmother and a good friend on the 27th, and Ryan’s grandmother on the 3rd of December, which was also the anniversary of the Eureka Rebellion, a big historical event in the area we now lived, which also has a good whack of family history along side. (Liam’s middle name comes from my 3x Great Grandfather James Beattie, who was present at the Rebellion.) Then there was The Day of The Doctor... yes, Dr Who! The 50th Anniversary episode was airing on the 24th of November, first early in the morning to coincide with the UK showing at the same time the first ever episode aired, and then again around 7.30 at night (yes, I’m a geek!) We figured we’d be asleep during the morning showing, but Murphy’s law would have me in hard labour during the evening showing, meaning we’d miss this episode, which we’d been waiting months for. So everyone had their own favourite dates for the baby to arrive, but Ryan and I ‘knew’ it would be the 24th!
Naturally, with the 24th in mind, on the 23rd Ryan had to go to Melbourne for the day to take care of a few things, leaving me with Zeke and Liam for the day. And what an completely miserable day it was! I had really hit a wall and was utterly exhausted, sore, and heavy and I spent the day short-tempered, snappy and generally not at all the peaceful and fun parent I try to be. In response they were grumpy, and very high need, fighting with each other and whining at me, it was just one moment of shouting and upset after another. To add to my discomfort, the baby was busy headbutting my cervix and sending the most painful electric jolts through my system, and huge Braxton Hicks, that didn’t feel functional in any way, just turned my midsection into an aching ball of concrete. I’d kept in touch with Ryan during the day, calling him frequently for brief doses of sanity, to whinge, and ask him how long until he’d be home. By the Woods method of counting, I was 39+6, but with my tendency to have late babies, I was in no way going to psyche myself up for having a baby any time soon, and I felt tired, achy, and was more or less convinced I’d be pregnant forever.
By about 5.30 I’d had it, I’d lost the plot at the boys again, and I rang Ryan to find out where he was. Traffic was awful, it was pouring with rain and roads were axle deep in water, he was going very slowly and wouldn’t be home for 2 hours at the earliest, and that was only if the traffic miraculously cleared. The second I hung up the phone I had a huge breakdown and burst into tears. After sobbing hysterically for a few minutes, I wrapped my arms around my belly and talked to the baby, telling him I was so, so ready for him, and to please come soon. I promised him that I understood it was his timing and not till he was ready, but I had a whole lovely long list of things I wanted to do, hold him, feed him, kiss him, sing to him, introduce him to his brothers, and did he please think it could be soon, because mama was losing her shit! I got myself together, and reheated the previous night’s dinner for Zeke and Liam, while ordering pizza for myself, to be delivered later after they were in bed. They were still ratty in response to my tiredness and I ended up cleaning much of the enchiladas off the floor. I packed Zeke off, and settled down to give Liam his bedtime boob, we’d been feeding regularly at the start of the pregnancy, but sore nipples, a growing belly and a toddler made entirely of elbows meant that we’d weaned to just this one nightly feed. I slowed down for a few minutes, and enjoyed what I felt would be my very last feed with Liam as my baby. It wasn’t until after that I realised, the normally strong Braxton Hicks, and vigorous kicking from the belly babe that came during breastfeeding hadn’t taken place this time, to allow me some a last, quiet moment with Liam.
My pizza arrived not long after the boys had gone to bed, and I decided it looked, smelled and otherwise appeared completely vile. I’d also ordered some chocolate dessert with it, and ate that instead. The chocolate did wonders for my mood, and I suddenly realised I had a whole group of lovely women holding my space from afar. I messaged them on Facebook around 8pm, asking for labour vibes, and after receiving much love and support, and talking through the day and what my body was doing, I realised I was probably on the way. Candles were being lit all over the east of Melbourne for me, and I could feel the support and strength they held for me.
I decided about then to message my doulas and midwives to let them know I was stirring, but felt as though I would still sleep that night, and need them in the morning. Julie rang almost immediately and checked in, she had the furthest to travel, and asked what I was doing and what I felt. I explained that the surges, which had returned after eating, were milder than the shitty BH I’d had earlier, and quite widely spaced, maybe 40 minutes or so apart. We talked for a while, and she helped me get my head in order. I also let her know that Ryan was still an hour or so away, and figured I would relax more once he was home, I kept repeating, “I’ll either go to sleep, or go into labour once he’s back” - but kept reverting to my mindset that I would have a longish, slow labour, although my words were suggesting what my brain was ignoring. I was keeping in touch with Kusum via text as well, letting her know that it was still slow and easy going. Both she and Julie agreed that there was definitely a baby on the way and decided to go to bed early, knowing there may be a call in the early hours of the morning. I resolved to get as much rest as I could too, figuring I’d need all my energy for the following day.
Despite my conscious deciding to rest and take it easy, I found my feet propelling me around the house, picking up the toys from the lounge to make room for the birth pool, locating my birth candles, clearing the dishes from the dining table and generally gathering all the bits and pieces I would need for a home birth into one space. I also spoke to Ryan and told him I was sending him a shopping list, I could do without him for another 20 minutes so that we didn’t have to do a run for labour supplies in the morning. I also asked him to buy a mud cake, I had wanted to make a birthday cake with Zeke and Liam in early labour, and envisioned doing that in the morning after breakfast, but again my words took over, making sure I’d have what I needed, even if my mind didn’t know it yet.
Meanwhile, the surges were growing closer together, and I began to need to concentrate through them. They were intense and strong, but not painful - the only bit that hurt was that darned head banging my cervix! I was still sure however that once I’d made my birth space ready, I’d be able to sleep, especially once Ryan got home, and was surprised to realise, after a half-hearted attempt at timing the waves on my phone, that I was beginning to get closer together, maybe 3 an hour, instead of one every 40 minutes. Ryan was surprised too, he knew right away something was up when he arrived home, “I got home, and Miranda was cleaning!” he’d later recount, I don’t like cleaning much anyway, never mind how I’d felt about it in the last few weeks of pregnancy, and certainly not with such determination. We spent an hour or so finishing readying the lounge, and beginning to set up the pool. I laid out clean pyjamas for me and picked an outfit for this soon to be baby to wear. I carefully arranged my candles and, with the blessingway beads, lay them out on the table too. I had intended to make a dreamcatcher, not liking the idea of a necklace, but the car had blown its fuel pump just days earlier, and craft supplies had been ignored in favour of spare parts. After Ryan had vacuumed and I had given lengthy instructions about where I wanted the pool, I asked him to set his camera up on the tripod aimed at the pool on interval shots, so that the whole process would be captured. I found my water bottle, heat packs and made up the bed with plastic sheeting under the fabric just in case. With the house satisfactory, we began to think about going to bed.
I realised then that the contractions were now properly strong, I had to go quiet and remember to breathe, I’d begun to moan through a few as well, particularly the one that caught me by surprise on the toilet. If you’ve read Zeke’s birth story, you’ll remember just how much I hate labouring on the loo! I told myself it was time for bed, but when I checked the timer on my phone, my hands took over, and by the time I was speaking to Kusum again, I realised there was a distinct pattern to them, 12-15 minutes, lasting 45+ seconds and I could feel how functional they were. Kusum listened patiently to my explanations, and gently said “I think I’ll come down, have you started to fill the pool?”
So much for bed! The acknowledgement that my midwife thought it was worth looking in switched my conciousness off and my primal brain on. I had no more time for fiddling with towels, bedding or candles, I was in proper labour! A few minutes later, I was kneeling in the lounge, resting my upper body on the couch and working my way through the waves with a heat pack on my back. Ryan dimmed the lights and lit the candles for me in between, but returned to place pressure on the heat pack. I could feel how strong each one was, and really began to moan through them. Kusum arrived during this, as well as our trainee doula, who I’d asked Ryan to call in case I woke the boys. We’d told our birth team that our front door was always open and to just let themselves in when they arrived instead of knocking, it was lovely to open my eyes after another contraction and see Kusum smiling and watching quietly.
I was still talking normally between contractions, asking about Liam (I’d heard him call out), and was reassured that Nikkie was with him, requesting heat my heat pack be re-warmed, and even noticing the oxygen tank Kusum brought in. I was curious about it as Ryan had plans to keg his home brew and needed to get a similar set up with carbon dioxide. I began to get a bit more serious about things, moaning and rocking my hips, and felt a need to hide my face in a pillow to shut out everything. My team responded so beautifully, going absolutely quiet when I did, and not at all disturbing me as I rested in between. After initially acknowledging both Kusum and Nikkie’s presence (Julie was on her way, the secondary midwife had turned out to be on call that night) my focus narrowed to Ryan only, and everything was relayed through him - but very little, I didn’t need anything other than to concentrate, and Kusum and Nikkie quietly went about their business.
I figured in my head I still had a long way to go, I was so conscious in every thought, I didn’t think I could feel so with it if I was really working on a baby yet. I’d totally spaced out with Liam, and expected the same this time. I’d been avoiding the pool as I was managing well where I was, and was also wary of slowing labour down, after 26 and 16 hour labours, I hoped strongly for less than 10 this time. However, the contractions tightened another notch, and after one really hurt, I could feel myself tensing and making it worse. I realised my fists were clenched, and my back tight, and thought about relaxing into the next one. I remembered my doula Julie’s birth story of her little son, “I led the way with my hands” how she’d opened and relaxed her hands to encourage the rest of her to relax. Those exact words came into my head, and I did just that, my arms and hands wide open and soft, my body followed suit, I found my hands deliberately shaking outwards, away from me, like I was trying to flick water off them, and realised I was pushing the tail end of the discomfort away from me as the contraction ended. This physical action to get rid of the pain really helped! A few more of these, and I could feel I was tensing again, Kusum was beside me as another big contraction surged through, watching and waiting until I’d emerged from my ‘face pillow’ that I’d been burrowing in. “Would you like to get in the pool now, Miranda?” she asked softly, and the whole time she didn’t touch me until I reached for her to help get up and turn to the pool. I hated being touched unexpectedly, or with light touches in both previous labours, and I’d asked my birth team not to touch me unless they let me know, and to use a confident hand, my wishes were being respected beautifully.
Kusum and Ryan helped me undress and climb into the pool - oh it was lovely! I like baths at the best of times, and this was bigger, the gorgeous squishy floor and enough room to spread in every direction. I was surprised how much of each contraction I could still feel, I had kind of expected instant relief, but at the same time it was so much better. We’d run it very hot, not knowing if it would be a while till I’d climbed in, and I asked for a cold washer on my neck, and Kusum encouraged me to keep drinking. I moved around the pool a lot more than I had on land, leaning on one side on my knees, then reclining against the other, and back to my knees again. The freedom of movement the warm water gave to get through each contraction as I needed was just bliss. Ryan tried counter pressure on my sacrum, which helped amazingly as well, he was back and forth a bit between each contraction, making the washer I was wiping my face and neck with cold again, I only wanted him in my space for the time being, so Kusum gave him a bucket of water to keep refreshing the washer in so he didn’t have to keep running around. Our request that he be my primary contact the whole time I was in labour was being upheld so nicely. Kusum never got between him and me, either verbally or physically, letting us stay tuned into each other at all times. I realised that Liam was awake, sitting on Nikkie’s lap and watching quietly, this had been our plan if either boy woke, they could be present as long as they or I were not upset, Zeke was still snoring away, despite my noise! I made an effort to smile at Liam a couple of times, but was far too focused on the job at hand for the smiles to feel convincing.
I turned away from the room again, facing only Ryan, and working through a few more, wiping my face with a washer in between, and leaning into him for a cuddle. After one contraction, he put both arms around me for a cuddle, rubbing my back, and I returned the favour, but because of the angle I was on, I could only reach his butt. Ryan obviously wasn’t thrilled about being groped in front of our birth team, and told me, “It’s ok, you don’t need to” and I grumbled in reply, “But I like your butt, it’s nice!” I did stop, but pretty sure I heard a smothered laugh from behind me.
My lips began to feel chapped, and I sent Ryan on another mission, to get my lip balm from my handbag. He got up, and headed for the hallway, where my bag usually hangs by the door, “No, the old one, the one I haven’t thrown out yet - it’s on the dining chair. It’s a pink tube, in the little zip pocket inside the bag.” I surprised myself how precise and descriptive I was, I had bought a new handbag just days earlier, and had not got around to emptying the old one, so it hung on the back of a dining chair, waiting to be organised. I figured with instructions like that, I still had ages to go, so I made myself more comfortable, layering on some balm, wetting my face washer again, and being picky about which drink I wanted, I had 3 on hand, a commercial sports drink (too sweet and sticky), a magnesium supplement Kusum had brought (tasted awful), and water (not as cold as I wanted, but it would do). I also asked for the fan to be set up to provide a breeze, and I turned myself around, facing toward it, sighing with relief as the cold breeze hit my face.
I worked on for a while longer, not wanting to talk anymore, but still feeling surprisingly alert in my head. Ryan kept the pressure up on my sacrum every time a contraction came, and the relief it provided was wonderful. Kusum just watched quietly, occasionally asking to check the heartbeat with the doppler, although there was not much worry about that, the baby was still kicking with vigour, you could see the movements through my belly, even at the height of a contraction. He was actively pushing against my fundus, helping to work his way down, which was bloody uncomfortable, the contractions I could handle, but being kicked midway through hurt and made me nauseous. In between, I’d comment “I don’t like this very much!” and ask him to stop pummeling me - to little effect, he knew what he needed to do!
A surge suddenly got stronger, and as always, Ryan leaned over to press on my hips, that hurt! The baby was moving, and I didn’t want my pelvis squashed shut. I couldn’t find words, and slapped his arm hard to make him stop, which he did at once. I bellowed and squirmed through the contraction, feeling the shift in weight and the baby’s position, but not knowing what had happened. Kneeling was bad too, and I rolled over with my legs out in front of me. I whimpered to Kusum how much that had hurt, and “What the hell are you doing down there, kid?” She knelt by the pool and asked to check the heart again, from the location she was able to tell me that he’d taken a dive into my pelvis, he was definitely moving down. “Oh, I don’t like that feeling very much!” I told her. That was about the strongest complaint I used the whole labour, that I didn’t like this bit very much.
I zoned out a little bit, Ryan holding me, and rocking my hips in the water during the contractions. I was still pretty alert in my head, but had shut out everyone else. Kusum must have heard the change in my voice before I felt it, and asked again to check the heart, I didn’t want to be touched, and said “No, no, I can feel him kicking it’s ok!” She respectfully moved back, trusting that I knew what was going on, and waited until I felt ready to have her check, even with the huge hormonal daze I was in, I so appreciated her respect and waiting for me and really valued how she listened to what I asked. I soon realised my voice felt different, really low in my throat and chest, and that the sound was carrying to lower down, not a push exactly, but a conscious relaxing and opening. I could both feel and ‘see’ the opening, not imagining, but so in tune with the sensation I could visualise the last bits of cervix moving away from the baby’s head. Sure enough, a couple of contractions later, I felt an unmistakable pressure and fullness, I commented “Oh, I remember this... I don’t like this bit very much!” and squirmed myself around to get comfortable with the new feeling of a baby in my vagina. I was surprised by the sensation, it didn’t feel like that long since labour had begun, and I still felt so alert. I thought to myself “I can’t be ready to push, I haven’t lost my shit yet!” I was anxious about pushing and it being too soon, I was still waiting for the labour to get unbearable and out of control for me, other than a couple of rougher contractions, I had felt very much on top of the sensations, and was not at all really in pain or upset by the labour.
My body over ruled my brain, and to my relief, I pushed instinctively. After the one deliberate push I had tried during Liam’s birth, which hadn’t felt right or effective, I was worried about needing to push this time, and was glad when I felt my body working on its own. I got louder as he moved down and began to complain about the stretching, every time I thought I was just about at my limit, I’d ask if his head was out yet - it wasn’t. His waters were coming first, like Liam’s had and stretching me before he was actually crowning. Kusum encouraged me to reach down and feel the bulging, explaining that having my own hand over the area might help me feel more in control and comfortable with the pain. Nope, crowning is just evil, but I could feel that soft, silky kind of plastic of his membranes, and exclaimed “Oh! You’re a caul baby just like your brother.” Suddenly he was so real, and right there, I realised I could talk to him, asking him to come slowly and let me get used to the stretching. Each contraction we’d work together, me chanting “fuck fuck fuck” (it was easier than panting!) and the baby working his way down. In between I’d speak to him, asking him to be gentle and come slowly as I didn’t want to tear.
He listened to every word I said, a few times at the peak of the pressure, I felt like I couldn’t handle it anymore and asked him to slow down and the sensations eased.”Okay baby boy, go easy on mama, I need a break for a minute,” I’d get a breather in, and tell him that I was ready to go, and again we’d start to work together, my body tightened in response, and he’d begin descending more. Kusum now stationed at the business end of the pool rather than beside me, assured me everything was going well, and that I was safe. When Kusum had been recommended to me by the midwife we had chosen at our old house, I was told “She’s French, she’s got a lovely accent, it will probably be more soothing than an Aussie accent in labour,” I had laughed at the time, as I can be pretty bogan in my speech, I didn’t think an Aussie accent would bother me, nor a French one be any more soothing. However it was lovely to hear Kusum gently reassure me “Everything is perfect Miranda, you’re safe, angel.” I was getting impatient for the stretching part to be over, it hurt like crazy, and didn’t feel as though I was getting anywhere, and I asked if breaking the waters would help, Kusum explained that it wouldn’t really improve matters by more than a minute at this stage, and as I began to push again before I had a chance to really process or reply, she leaned forward, placing her hand in the water. “No don’t touch me!” I snapped, thinking she had mistaken my question for consent, I didn’t want the waters broken, I wanted the baby to be born in the caul if he chose to, something I had expressed in my birth plan. She promised that she was not going to to touch me, and I realised right away that she was just keeping her hand near the baby’s head to help slow him, as the position I wanted to push in meant I kept both hands braced on the bottom of the pool and could not do it myself.
Eventually the stretching and burning feeling didn’t recede between contractions and I told him “Okay Alexei, you can come now.” I was considerably less quiet about this one, no chanting of profanities, just plain hollering. I was lifting my butt off the floor of the pool, pushing upward with my hands and feet to do this, was suddenly distracted by a searing pain in my calf muscle, exactly where night time cramps had bothered me through pregnancy. Kusum reassured me again, and I gasped out “No, no my leg is cramping!” She leaned over to hurriedly rub the cramp away for me, I had just been thinking I’d do anything to not feel the pain of crowning, but it certainly wasn’t that! I twitched her away fairly quickly as my body bore down again, I wasn’t talking to the baby anymore, but nothing was stopping him anyway.
As his head was finally born properly, and as I rested my head back on the side of the pool, Kusum called our attention to the fact I’d be able to see his head. I opened my eyes and looked down, pointing out to Ryan that he had hair, I could see it through the whitish yellow of his caul. Ryan was impressed too, we’ve both talked about that moment a lot since he was born, being able to actually see him, though he was still mostly inside me. I realised with a start what the head being out meant, and exclaimed with disappointment “Oh no, shoulders come next, I don’t like shoulders much!” I thought that this would have been a nice time to have had an epidural, but knew that I certainly wasn’t going anywhere, I didn’t want to go to hospital, and that it wouldn’t have been effective this late anyway. I thought that I’d kept that thought in my head, but Ryan tells me I spoke out loud, he had been leaning behind my head the whole time, holding onto my shoulders, and reassured me I was doing well (I do remember that bit), and Kusum apparently replied if I stood up he would have just about fallen out at that point.
Although I don’t recall being told that, I lost all interest in the idea of going anywhere, and began to push again, urging Kusum to “Pull!” as I hoped to get the unpleasant part of feeling his shoulders rotate and be born out of the way fast, I doubt she actually pulled, but she did begin to assist him in his move, “No, don’t pull!” I gasped, that felt worse, and she backed off immediately. It must have been less than a minute later and I could feel that long slithery woosh, complete with kicking legs (ouch by the way!), and he was out.
I opened my eyes and looked down, Kusum may have been speaking to me, but I really only had eyes to find my baby. She scooped him quickly out of the water toward me, barely touching him so I was the first person to properly hold him. I know he had his caul over his face, and that I lifted it off, but I felt very anxious to uncover his mouth and nose so he could breathe, and I barely remember removing it as my hands moved so instinctively and fast. I tried to bring him to my chest, and felt resistance, Kusums hands came into my vision, looping the cord over the front of his head, I realised he was wearing it like suspenders, up from his tummy, over one shoulder, around the back of his neck, over the other shoulder and down between his legs. Seconds later he was against my chest, I felt myself blowing gently on his face a couple of times until I saw a reactive grimace, and relaxed, he was breathing perfectly and hadn’t needed any help, but I needed to see that for myself.
We rested against the edge of the pool, Ryan leaning forward and kissing me, stroking the baby’s head, and telling me what a good job I’d done. The whole time, Liam had been sitting on Nikkie’s lap, quietly watching without a word. He would later comment “You shouted in the blue pool when Alexei was born!” I glanced down at his face several times, surprised by how unsurprised I was at this new person. I’d known him all along and instead of “So that’s who you are,” I felt recognition and familiarity falling into place, “Of course it’s you!” the dream baby I’d thought of years earlier was finally in my arms, exactly as I’d pictured him. I did hold him away from my body briefly, just to confirm he really was a he, but brought him back to my chest quickly. Kusum offered me some water, which I was very glad to have, and I asked her “He’s so small, is he okay?” I really forgot (again) how little a newborn can be, She confirmed he was fine, and I insisted “No, really, are you sure he’s okay? He’s so tiny!” again, I was reassured that he was perfect, he’d pinked beautifully and begun breathing nicely, and was resting quietly against my skin, occasionally watching with huge grey eyes, and sleeping in between.
Kusum began to top the pool up with hot water, just as Julie arrived, only 20 minutes after he’d been born. Kusum had called Julie to come when she’d decided it was time to come see me, and although Julie had left almost immediately, the bad weather had slowed her trip, as it had Ryan’s earlier. She said later, that as soon as she came in, she heard me talking, and thought it was still early, and in a minute I’d start the really hard work. Then she rounded the corner and saw a tiny arm nestled in my own, and she couldn’t believe it. We were both bummed that she’d missed the birth by ‘that’ much, but it was wonderful to have her there afterward, to share my joy with a woman who’s long been a mentor and role model of sorts for me as far as birth goes, and to have her immediately take her camera out and begin snapping photos. I asked Kusum what time he had been born - 3.05am - she asked what time the contractions had really started up, I said 10.30pm, a labour of 4 hours, 35 minutes, I was stunned! I don’t ‘do’ short labours, I go on all night, I lose my shit, and run everyone ragged, or so I thought! I couldn’t believe how quickly it had all taken place.
The oxytocin had kicked in and I was high as a kite and so in love with this tiny new person. Ryan was stoked too, we couldn’t stop smiling at each other, or the baby, who needed a name. “So babe, do you think he looks like an Alexei?” I asked him. The little boy in my arms, squeaked and opened his eyes to look right up at us when I said Alexei. We took that as a sign he liked the name. He really was the baby I’d imagined, our Alexei John. We were both amazed how he’d answered his name, he knew exactly who he was! (Not to mention a bit relieved, we didn’t have a second name on stand by.)
Liam meanwhile, had still been watching quietly, Nikkie filling him in, and lifting him up so he could see, I suddenly realised he was there, and wanted him to come meet his brother, so I called him over to the side of the pool, it felt wrong with only Liam, so I asked Ryan to wake Zeke too. They were both quietly impressed about their brother, and more interested in the pool, Liam was forever dipping his hands in and out of the water, watching the drips. I think he would have dearly liked to get in as well! Zeke was smiling for the most part, very impressed, but not saying much, Liam looked pretty tired as he’d only had a few hours sleep.
The water was still crystal clear, unlike Liam‘s birth I had not lost even a drop of blood, and other than some after pains I was feeling amazing. Alexei had a little feed in the pool too, his latch immediately perfect - and so comfortable after a toddler mouth full of teeth! After a while, with the added stimulation from nursing, I could feel the after pains building in intensity and the boys’ chatter began to annoy me, so Nikkie took them down to the back of the house to play. Kusum suggested I think about standing up and birthing the placenta, I had some panadiene to help take the edge off the cramps, and realised I was feeling pretty awful with it still in me, so it was time to make a move. I wanted to get out of the pool first, as with the extra water that had been added, the water came up very high on my chest and I was having difficulty keeping his face out of the water and letting him feed.
We had discussed 3rd stage during our meetings, and I was unsure if I wanted to have a natural 3rd stage as I had hated the physical sensation, and wanted it over fast after Liam’s birth, I was also hesitant about blood loss, as my iron was low. However, Kusum was confident that if we were not interrupted during the first few minutes after birth, Alexei allowed to feed as he wanted, and I was kept warm and not hurried to move, I would be fine, and I agreed to wait and see, but if I began to get uncomfortable, I wanted to switch to active management. As it turned out, physiological 3rd stage went perfectly. I stood up, and Kusum could tell by the movement in the cord that the placenta was loose, so still standing in the pool, she got an empty ice cream container ready to catch, it still felt awful, but the relief when it was out was instant. We shuffled a few steps to the couch, where I sat on a few towels and had some absolutely deliciously warm ones wrapped around my shoulders. I had no idea how or why they were so warm, but I didn’t care, it felt amazing. A couple of days later, I discovered folded towels in my oven, and realised where the supply was coming from, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in and out of my kitchen!
The boys had wandered back in just in time to see the placenta come out, and Zeke looked quite shocked by it, I pointed it out to Ryan and Nikkie, who explained what was going on. We had read the book Hello Baby a number of times, so they understood what it was, and once we were on the couch, both Zeke and Liam were very interested in the cord and the placenta, and how it was still attached to Alexei’s belly. Julie set to work on my kitchen, which was looking worse than usual after being so exhausted the last few days, and Kusum watched, took notes and helped clean up.
Alexei and I cuddled on the couch for a while, the placenta sitting in its tub next to us. He began to feed again, gulping strongly, his cheeks hollowing purposefully and swallowing loudly. While he had his feed, Kusum tied off the cord with extra yarn from my blessingway binding, and Ryan cut it. It bled slightly, although it had looked perfectly white and limp at the time. Once we were separate from the placenta, Kusum checked it out, it was perfectly whole, healthy, quite large, and heart shaped! After a very long feed, it was time for Ryan’s first cuddle, and as he had with the bigger boys, he took his shirt off so Alexei could lay against his skin. He kept moving to the other couch from where I was though, which bugged me, I was not ready for my baby to be quite so far away from me just yet - all of 5 feet!
While Ryan cuddled Alexei, I began to think of a hot bath. Julie ran it for me, and I hobbled down the hallway with Kusum to check if I had any tears. I did, quite a decent labial one again, though my perineum was intact. I asked anxiously if it needed to be stitched, and Kusum explained that this one was big enough to require it, but with good care and careful movement the way the two edges sat, it should heal nicely on its own. I opted for good care - I was far more scared of stitches than the tear itself! With manuka honey and Julie’s herbal baths for healing, the tear healed quickly and as though it had never torn to begin with. I soaked in a bath, that as I requested was “volcanic hot”, Julie asked if I wanted Alexei in with me, but I felt the water was too hot, and I wanted to give Ryan some time with him.
By the time I hopped out, my kitchen looked like new, and a hose was set up, beginning to syphon the water out of the pool and straight to the storm water drain - conveniently on our front lawn. Julie and Kusum helped me get my pyjama pants on and Alexei came back for yet more milk, he was also weighed 3.25kg, about 7 pound 2 ounces, my middleweight baby, a little smaller than Zeke, a little bigger than Liam. Nikkie took the placenta home to dehydrate and turn into capsules for me, which turned out to be an amazing benefit, my milk came in sooner, my mood was more stable, and my bleeding was less. I wish I had known about placenta pills earlier! The boys were playing in and out of the lounge, coming back to check on their brother and to ask repeatedly what his name was. Liam called him “Alexei-John” for the first week, running the names together beautifully. We laughed when we noticed the time - we could have been watching the early airing of Dr Who right then! The Day of the Doctor indeed, and not a doctor in sight for this birth. I was thrilled!
So we knew everything we needed to know, and a home birth was on the cards, my biggest issue was my ever wonky hips and pelvis causing pain and instability. Again regular physio visits became part of my routine, although I ended up using crutches to take the weight and strain off my hips for the last 3 or so weeks. Aside from my hips, it was a beautifully textbook pregnancy, even the nausea behaved to order, just lasting until I began to feel kicks so I would not worry about the baby (around 14 weeks), and not so bad as to be debilitating or a concern for my health. Some vicious heartburn kicked in around second trimester, but as my physiotherapist straightened my hips out, I found that eased too - I must have been pretty crooked and upsetting my digestive tract. All in all, I was just really enjoying the pregnancy, the new house and getting acquainted with a new area to live in, and meeting some lovely women when I joined the local Birthing and Babies group.
The next few months flew by in midwife visits, booking a back up at the local hospital, deciding I didn’t like them, keeping an eye on my iffy iron levels, not to mention parenting Zeke and Liam, and choosing a new primary school for Zeke for the following year. I was still not telling anyone my due date (the hospital had one, and Kusum had another - she used the Woods Method of counting, which I agreed with more as it fitted my previous pregnancy patterns), but I’d made it clear that I would not be hounded about when this baby would arrive, and found that keeping the date to myself - though no easy feat with pregnancy brain, I nearly slipped a few times! - was far preferable to everyone knowing exactly when I was 40 weeks.
I had a beautiful blessingway at 36 weeks, the last trip I was prepared to make to Melbourne until I’d given birth, and left the weekend feeling loved, pampered and totally empowered. I had the gathering out east, at a friend’s house so all my closest women friends could be there, and received a wonderfully meaningful collection of candles and beads for my birth space. With henna on my belly, and and filled to bursting with positive love and excitment for this baby, all I felt I needed to do was wait (other than collect more towels, plastic sheeting and tidy the house of course!)
There were a few special dates as 40 weeks neared, my grandmother and father-in-law’s birthday as well as my parent’s 30th anniversary on the 25th of November, my other grandmother and a good friend on the 27th, and Ryan’s grandmother on the 3rd of December, which was also the anniversary of the Eureka Rebellion, a big historical event in the area we now lived, which also has a good whack of family history along side. (Liam’s middle name comes from my 3x Great Grandfather James Beattie, who was present at the Rebellion.) Then there was The Day of The Doctor... yes, Dr Who! The 50th Anniversary episode was airing on the 24th of November, first early in the morning to coincide with the UK showing at the same time the first ever episode aired, and then again around 7.30 at night (yes, I’m a geek!) We figured we’d be asleep during the morning showing, but Murphy’s law would have me in hard labour during the evening showing, meaning we’d miss this episode, which we’d been waiting months for. So everyone had their own favourite dates for the baby to arrive, but Ryan and I ‘knew’ it would be the 24th!
Naturally, with the 24th in mind, on the 23rd Ryan had to go to Melbourne for the day to take care of a few things, leaving me with Zeke and Liam for the day. And what an completely miserable day it was! I had really hit a wall and was utterly exhausted, sore, and heavy and I spent the day short-tempered, snappy and generally not at all the peaceful and fun parent I try to be. In response they were grumpy, and very high need, fighting with each other and whining at me, it was just one moment of shouting and upset after another. To add to my discomfort, the baby was busy headbutting my cervix and sending the most painful electric jolts through my system, and huge Braxton Hicks, that didn’t feel functional in any way, just turned my midsection into an aching ball of concrete. I’d kept in touch with Ryan during the day, calling him frequently for brief doses of sanity, to whinge, and ask him how long until he’d be home. By the Woods method of counting, I was 39+6, but with my tendency to have late babies, I was in no way going to psyche myself up for having a baby any time soon, and I felt tired, achy, and was more or less convinced I’d be pregnant forever.
By about 5.30 I’d had it, I’d lost the plot at the boys again, and I rang Ryan to find out where he was. Traffic was awful, it was pouring with rain and roads were axle deep in water, he was going very slowly and wouldn’t be home for 2 hours at the earliest, and that was only if the traffic miraculously cleared. The second I hung up the phone I had a huge breakdown and burst into tears. After sobbing hysterically for a few minutes, I wrapped my arms around my belly and talked to the baby, telling him I was so, so ready for him, and to please come soon. I promised him that I understood it was his timing and not till he was ready, but I had a whole lovely long list of things I wanted to do, hold him, feed him, kiss him, sing to him, introduce him to his brothers, and did he please think it could be soon, because mama was losing her shit! I got myself together, and reheated the previous night’s dinner for Zeke and Liam, while ordering pizza for myself, to be delivered later after they were in bed. They were still ratty in response to my tiredness and I ended up cleaning much of the enchiladas off the floor. I packed Zeke off, and settled down to give Liam his bedtime boob, we’d been feeding regularly at the start of the pregnancy, but sore nipples, a growing belly and a toddler made entirely of elbows meant that we’d weaned to just this one nightly feed. I slowed down for a few minutes, and enjoyed what I felt would be my very last feed with Liam as my baby. It wasn’t until after that I realised, the normally strong Braxton Hicks, and vigorous kicking from the belly babe that came during breastfeeding hadn’t taken place this time, to allow me some a last, quiet moment with Liam.
My pizza arrived not long after the boys had gone to bed, and I decided it looked, smelled and otherwise appeared completely vile. I’d also ordered some chocolate dessert with it, and ate that instead. The chocolate did wonders for my mood, and I suddenly realised I had a whole group of lovely women holding my space from afar. I messaged them on Facebook around 8pm, asking for labour vibes, and after receiving much love and support, and talking through the day and what my body was doing, I realised I was probably on the way. Candles were being lit all over the east of Melbourne for me, and I could feel the support and strength they held for me.
I decided about then to message my doulas and midwives to let them know I was stirring, but felt as though I would still sleep that night, and need them in the morning. Julie rang almost immediately and checked in, she had the furthest to travel, and asked what I was doing and what I felt. I explained that the surges, which had returned after eating, were milder than the shitty BH I’d had earlier, and quite widely spaced, maybe 40 minutes or so apart. We talked for a while, and she helped me get my head in order. I also let her know that Ryan was still an hour or so away, and figured I would relax more once he was home, I kept repeating, “I’ll either go to sleep, or go into labour once he’s back” - but kept reverting to my mindset that I would have a longish, slow labour, although my words were suggesting what my brain was ignoring. I was keeping in touch with Kusum via text as well, letting her know that it was still slow and easy going. Both she and Julie agreed that there was definitely a baby on the way and decided to go to bed early, knowing there may be a call in the early hours of the morning. I resolved to get as much rest as I could too, figuring I’d need all my energy for the following day.
Despite my conscious deciding to rest and take it easy, I found my feet propelling me around the house, picking up the toys from the lounge to make room for the birth pool, locating my birth candles, clearing the dishes from the dining table and generally gathering all the bits and pieces I would need for a home birth into one space. I also spoke to Ryan and told him I was sending him a shopping list, I could do without him for another 20 minutes so that we didn’t have to do a run for labour supplies in the morning. I also asked him to buy a mud cake, I had wanted to make a birthday cake with Zeke and Liam in early labour, and envisioned doing that in the morning after breakfast, but again my words took over, making sure I’d have what I needed, even if my mind didn’t know it yet.
Meanwhile, the surges were growing closer together, and I began to need to concentrate through them. They were intense and strong, but not painful - the only bit that hurt was that darned head banging my cervix! I was still sure however that once I’d made my birth space ready, I’d be able to sleep, especially once Ryan got home, and was surprised to realise, after a half-hearted attempt at timing the waves on my phone, that I was beginning to get closer together, maybe 3 an hour, instead of one every 40 minutes. Ryan was surprised too, he knew right away something was up when he arrived home, “I got home, and Miranda was cleaning!” he’d later recount, I don’t like cleaning much anyway, never mind how I’d felt about it in the last few weeks of pregnancy, and certainly not with such determination. We spent an hour or so finishing readying the lounge, and beginning to set up the pool. I laid out clean pyjamas for me and picked an outfit for this soon to be baby to wear. I carefully arranged my candles and, with the blessingway beads, lay them out on the table too. I had intended to make a dreamcatcher, not liking the idea of a necklace, but the car had blown its fuel pump just days earlier, and craft supplies had been ignored in favour of spare parts. After Ryan had vacuumed and I had given lengthy instructions about where I wanted the pool, I asked him to set his camera up on the tripod aimed at the pool on interval shots, so that the whole process would be captured. I found my water bottle, heat packs and made up the bed with plastic sheeting under the fabric just in case. With the house satisfactory, we began to think about going to bed.
I realised then that the contractions were now properly strong, I had to go quiet and remember to breathe, I’d begun to moan through a few as well, particularly the one that caught me by surprise on the toilet. If you’ve read Zeke’s birth story, you’ll remember just how much I hate labouring on the loo! I told myself it was time for bed, but when I checked the timer on my phone, my hands took over, and by the time I was speaking to Kusum again, I realised there was a distinct pattern to them, 12-15 minutes, lasting 45+ seconds and I could feel how functional they were. Kusum listened patiently to my explanations, and gently said “I think I’ll come down, have you started to fill the pool?”
So much for bed! The acknowledgement that my midwife thought it was worth looking in switched my conciousness off and my primal brain on. I had no more time for fiddling with towels, bedding or candles, I was in proper labour! A few minutes later, I was kneeling in the lounge, resting my upper body on the couch and working my way through the waves with a heat pack on my back. Ryan dimmed the lights and lit the candles for me in between, but returned to place pressure on the heat pack. I could feel how strong each one was, and really began to moan through them. Kusum arrived during this, as well as our trainee doula, who I’d asked Ryan to call in case I woke the boys. We’d told our birth team that our front door was always open and to just let themselves in when they arrived instead of knocking, it was lovely to open my eyes after another contraction and see Kusum smiling and watching quietly.
I was still talking normally between contractions, asking about Liam (I’d heard him call out), and was reassured that Nikkie was with him, requesting heat my heat pack be re-warmed, and even noticing the oxygen tank Kusum brought in. I was curious about it as Ryan had plans to keg his home brew and needed to get a similar set up with carbon dioxide. I began to get a bit more serious about things, moaning and rocking my hips, and felt a need to hide my face in a pillow to shut out everything. My team responded so beautifully, going absolutely quiet when I did, and not at all disturbing me as I rested in between. After initially acknowledging both Kusum and Nikkie’s presence (Julie was on her way, the secondary midwife had turned out to be on call that night) my focus narrowed to Ryan only, and everything was relayed through him - but very little, I didn’t need anything other than to concentrate, and Kusum and Nikkie quietly went about their business.
I figured in my head I still had a long way to go, I was so conscious in every thought, I didn’t think I could feel so with it if I was really working on a baby yet. I’d totally spaced out with Liam, and expected the same this time. I’d been avoiding the pool as I was managing well where I was, and was also wary of slowing labour down, after 26 and 16 hour labours, I hoped strongly for less than 10 this time. However, the contractions tightened another notch, and after one really hurt, I could feel myself tensing and making it worse. I realised my fists were clenched, and my back tight, and thought about relaxing into the next one. I remembered my doula Julie’s birth story of her little son, “I led the way with my hands” how she’d opened and relaxed her hands to encourage the rest of her to relax. Those exact words came into my head, and I did just that, my arms and hands wide open and soft, my body followed suit, I found my hands deliberately shaking outwards, away from me, like I was trying to flick water off them, and realised I was pushing the tail end of the discomfort away from me as the contraction ended. This physical action to get rid of the pain really helped! A few more of these, and I could feel I was tensing again, Kusum was beside me as another big contraction surged through, watching and waiting until I’d emerged from my ‘face pillow’ that I’d been burrowing in. “Would you like to get in the pool now, Miranda?” she asked softly, and the whole time she didn’t touch me until I reached for her to help get up and turn to the pool. I hated being touched unexpectedly, or with light touches in both previous labours, and I’d asked my birth team not to touch me unless they let me know, and to use a confident hand, my wishes were being respected beautifully.
Kusum and Ryan helped me undress and climb into the pool - oh it was lovely! I like baths at the best of times, and this was bigger, the gorgeous squishy floor and enough room to spread in every direction. I was surprised how much of each contraction I could still feel, I had kind of expected instant relief, but at the same time it was so much better. We’d run it very hot, not knowing if it would be a while till I’d climbed in, and I asked for a cold washer on my neck, and Kusum encouraged me to keep drinking. I moved around the pool a lot more than I had on land, leaning on one side on my knees, then reclining against the other, and back to my knees again. The freedom of movement the warm water gave to get through each contraction as I needed was just bliss. Ryan tried counter pressure on my sacrum, which helped amazingly as well, he was back and forth a bit between each contraction, making the washer I was wiping my face and neck with cold again, I only wanted him in my space for the time being, so Kusum gave him a bucket of water to keep refreshing the washer in so he didn’t have to keep running around. Our request that he be my primary contact the whole time I was in labour was being upheld so nicely. Kusum never got between him and me, either verbally or physically, letting us stay tuned into each other at all times. I realised that Liam was awake, sitting on Nikkie’s lap and watching quietly, this had been our plan if either boy woke, they could be present as long as they or I were not upset, Zeke was still snoring away, despite my noise! I made an effort to smile at Liam a couple of times, but was far too focused on the job at hand for the smiles to feel convincing.
I turned away from the room again, facing only Ryan, and working through a few more, wiping my face with a washer in between, and leaning into him for a cuddle. After one contraction, he put both arms around me for a cuddle, rubbing my back, and I returned the favour, but because of the angle I was on, I could only reach his butt. Ryan obviously wasn’t thrilled about being groped in front of our birth team, and told me, “It’s ok, you don’t need to” and I grumbled in reply, “But I like your butt, it’s nice!” I did stop, but pretty sure I heard a smothered laugh from behind me.
My lips began to feel chapped, and I sent Ryan on another mission, to get my lip balm from my handbag. He got up, and headed for the hallway, where my bag usually hangs by the door, “No, the old one, the one I haven’t thrown out yet - it’s on the dining chair. It’s a pink tube, in the little zip pocket inside the bag.” I surprised myself how precise and descriptive I was, I had bought a new handbag just days earlier, and had not got around to emptying the old one, so it hung on the back of a dining chair, waiting to be organised. I figured with instructions like that, I still had ages to go, so I made myself more comfortable, layering on some balm, wetting my face washer again, and being picky about which drink I wanted, I had 3 on hand, a commercial sports drink (too sweet and sticky), a magnesium supplement Kusum had brought (tasted awful), and water (not as cold as I wanted, but it would do). I also asked for the fan to be set up to provide a breeze, and I turned myself around, facing toward it, sighing with relief as the cold breeze hit my face.
I worked on for a while longer, not wanting to talk anymore, but still feeling surprisingly alert in my head. Ryan kept the pressure up on my sacrum every time a contraction came, and the relief it provided was wonderful. Kusum just watched quietly, occasionally asking to check the heartbeat with the doppler, although there was not much worry about that, the baby was still kicking with vigour, you could see the movements through my belly, even at the height of a contraction. He was actively pushing against my fundus, helping to work his way down, which was bloody uncomfortable, the contractions I could handle, but being kicked midway through hurt and made me nauseous. In between, I’d comment “I don’t like this very much!” and ask him to stop pummeling me - to little effect, he knew what he needed to do!
A surge suddenly got stronger, and as always, Ryan leaned over to press on my hips, that hurt! The baby was moving, and I didn’t want my pelvis squashed shut. I couldn’t find words, and slapped his arm hard to make him stop, which he did at once. I bellowed and squirmed through the contraction, feeling the shift in weight and the baby’s position, but not knowing what had happened. Kneeling was bad too, and I rolled over with my legs out in front of me. I whimpered to Kusum how much that had hurt, and “What the hell are you doing down there, kid?” She knelt by the pool and asked to check the heart again, from the location she was able to tell me that he’d taken a dive into my pelvis, he was definitely moving down. “Oh, I don’t like that feeling very much!” I told her. That was about the strongest complaint I used the whole labour, that I didn’t like this bit very much.
I zoned out a little bit, Ryan holding me, and rocking my hips in the water during the contractions. I was still pretty alert in my head, but had shut out everyone else. Kusum must have heard the change in my voice before I felt it, and asked again to check the heart, I didn’t want to be touched, and said “No, no, I can feel him kicking it’s ok!” She respectfully moved back, trusting that I knew what was going on, and waited until I felt ready to have her check, even with the huge hormonal daze I was in, I so appreciated her respect and waiting for me and really valued how she listened to what I asked. I soon realised my voice felt different, really low in my throat and chest, and that the sound was carrying to lower down, not a push exactly, but a conscious relaxing and opening. I could both feel and ‘see’ the opening, not imagining, but so in tune with the sensation I could visualise the last bits of cervix moving away from the baby’s head. Sure enough, a couple of contractions later, I felt an unmistakable pressure and fullness, I commented “Oh, I remember this... I don’t like this bit very much!” and squirmed myself around to get comfortable with the new feeling of a baby in my vagina. I was surprised by the sensation, it didn’t feel like that long since labour had begun, and I still felt so alert. I thought to myself “I can’t be ready to push, I haven’t lost my shit yet!” I was anxious about pushing and it being too soon, I was still waiting for the labour to get unbearable and out of control for me, other than a couple of rougher contractions, I had felt very much on top of the sensations, and was not at all really in pain or upset by the labour.
My body over ruled my brain, and to my relief, I pushed instinctively. After the one deliberate push I had tried during Liam’s birth, which hadn’t felt right or effective, I was worried about needing to push this time, and was glad when I felt my body working on its own. I got louder as he moved down and began to complain about the stretching, every time I thought I was just about at my limit, I’d ask if his head was out yet - it wasn’t. His waters were coming first, like Liam’s had and stretching me before he was actually crowning. Kusum encouraged me to reach down and feel the bulging, explaining that having my own hand over the area might help me feel more in control and comfortable with the pain. Nope, crowning is just evil, but I could feel that soft, silky kind of plastic of his membranes, and exclaimed “Oh! You’re a caul baby just like your brother.” Suddenly he was so real, and right there, I realised I could talk to him, asking him to come slowly and let me get used to the stretching. Each contraction we’d work together, me chanting “fuck fuck fuck” (it was easier than panting!) and the baby working his way down. In between I’d speak to him, asking him to be gentle and come slowly as I didn’t want to tear.
He listened to every word I said, a few times at the peak of the pressure, I felt like I couldn’t handle it anymore and asked him to slow down and the sensations eased.”Okay baby boy, go easy on mama, I need a break for a minute,” I’d get a breather in, and tell him that I was ready to go, and again we’d start to work together, my body tightened in response, and he’d begin descending more. Kusum now stationed at the business end of the pool rather than beside me, assured me everything was going well, and that I was safe. When Kusum had been recommended to me by the midwife we had chosen at our old house, I was told “She’s French, she’s got a lovely accent, it will probably be more soothing than an Aussie accent in labour,” I had laughed at the time, as I can be pretty bogan in my speech, I didn’t think an Aussie accent would bother me, nor a French one be any more soothing. However it was lovely to hear Kusum gently reassure me “Everything is perfect Miranda, you’re safe, angel.” I was getting impatient for the stretching part to be over, it hurt like crazy, and didn’t feel as though I was getting anywhere, and I asked if breaking the waters would help, Kusum explained that it wouldn’t really improve matters by more than a minute at this stage, and as I began to push again before I had a chance to really process or reply, she leaned forward, placing her hand in the water. “No don’t touch me!” I snapped, thinking she had mistaken my question for consent, I didn’t want the waters broken, I wanted the baby to be born in the caul if he chose to, something I had expressed in my birth plan. She promised that she was not going to to touch me, and I realised right away that she was just keeping her hand near the baby’s head to help slow him, as the position I wanted to push in meant I kept both hands braced on the bottom of the pool and could not do it myself.
Eventually the stretching and burning feeling didn’t recede between contractions and I told him “Okay Alexei, you can come now.” I was considerably less quiet about this one, no chanting of profanities, just plain hollering. I was lifting my butt off the floor of the pool, pushing upward with my hands and feet to do this, was suddenly distracted by a searing pain in my calf muscle, exactly where night time cramps had bothered me through pregnancy. Kusum reassured me again, and I gasped out “No, no my leg is cramping!” She leaned over to hurriedly rub the cramp away for me, I had just been thinking I’d do anything to not feel the pain of crowning, but it certainly wasn’t that! I twitched her away fairly quickly as my body bore down again, I wasn’t talking to the baby anymore, but nothing was stopping him anyway.
As his head was finally born properly, and as I rested my head back on the side of the pool, Kusum called our attention to the fact I’d be able to see his head. I opened my eyes and looked down, pointing out to Ryan that he had hair, I could see it through the whitish yellow of his caul. Ryan was impressed too, we’ve both talked about that moment a lot since he was born, being able to actually see him, though he was still mostly inside me. I realised with a start what the head being out meant, and exclaimed with disappointment “Oh no, shoulders come next, I don’t like shoulders much!” I thought that this would have been a nice time to have had an epidural, but knew that I certainly wasn’t going anywhere, I didn’t want to go to hospital, and that it wouldn’t have been effective this late anyway. I thought that I’d kept that thought in my head, but Ryan tells me I spoke out loud, he had been leaning behind my head the whole time, holding onto my shoulders, and reassured me I was doing well (I do remember that bit), and Kusum apparently replied if I stood up he would have just about fallen out at that point.
Although I don’t recall being told that, I lost all interest in the idea of going anywhere, and began to push again, urging Kusum to “Pull!” as I hoped to get the unpleasant part of feeling his shoulders rotate and be born out of the way fast, I doubt she actually pulled, but she did begin to assist him in his move, “No, don’t pull!” I gasped, that felt worse, and she backed off immediately. It must have been less than a minute later and I could feel that long slithery woosh, complete with kicking legs (ouch by the way!), and he was out.
I opened my eyes and looked down, Kusum may have been speaking to me, but I really only had eyes to find my baby. She scooped him quickly out of the water toward me, barely touching him so I was the first person to properly hold him. I know he had his caul over his face, and that I lifted it off, but I felt very anxious to uncover his mouth and nose so he could breathe, and I barely remember removing it as my hands moved so instinctively and fast. I tried to bring him to my chest, and felt resistance, Kusums hands came into my vision, looping the cord over the front of his head, I realised he was wearing it like suspenders, up from his tummy, over one shoulder, around the back of his neck, over the other shoulder and down between his legs. Seconds later he was against my chest, I felt myself blowing gently on his face a couple of times until I saw a reactive grimace, and relaxed, he was breathing perfectly and hadn’t needed any help, but I needed to see that for myself.
We rested against the edge of the pool, Ryan leaning forward and kissing me, stroking the baby’s head, and telling me what a good job I’d done. The whole time, Liam had been sitting on Nikkie’s lap, quietly watching without a word. He would later comment “You shouted in the blue pool when Alexei was born!” I glanced down at his face several times, surprised by how unsurprised I was at this new person. I’d known him all along and instead of “So that’s who you are,” I felt recognition and familiarity falling into place, “Of course it’s you!” the dream baby I’d thought of years earlier was finally in my arms, exactly as I’d pictured him. I did hold him away from my body briefly, just to confirm he really was a he, but brought him back to my chest quickly. Kusum offered me some water, which I was very glad to have, and I asked her “He’s so small, is he okay?” I really forgot (again) how little a newborn can be, She confirmed he was fine, and I insisted “No, really, are you sure he’s okay? He’s so tiny!” again, I was reassured that he was perfect, he’d pinked beautifully and begun breathing nicely, and was resting quietly against my skin, occasionally watching with huge grey eyes, and sleeping in between.
Kusum began to top the pool up with hot water, just as Julie arrived, only 20 minutes after he’d been born. Kusum had called Julie to come when she’d decided it was time to come see me, and although Julie had left almost immediately, the bad weather had slowed her trip, as it had Ryan’s earlier. She said later, that as soon as she came in, she heard me talking, and thought it was still early, and in a minute I’d start the really hard work. Then she rounded the corner and saw a tiny arm nestled in my own, and she couldn’t believe it. We were both bummed that she’d missed the birth by ‘that’ much, but it was wonderful to have her there afterward, to share my joy with a woman who’s long been a mentor and role model of sorts for me as far as birth goes, and to have her immediately take her camera out and begin snapping photos. I asked Kusum what time he had been born - 3.05am - she asked what time the contractions had really started up, I said 10.30pm, a labour of 4 hours, 35 minutes, I was stunned! I don’t ‘do’ short labours, I go on all night, I lose my shit, and run everyone ragged, or so I thought! I couldn’t believe how quickly it had all taken place.
The oxytocin had kicked in and I was high as a kite and so in love with this tiny new person. Ryan was stoked too, we couldn’t stop smiling at each other, or the baby, who needed a name. “So babe, do you think he looks like an Alexei?” I asked him. The little boy in my arms, squeaked and opened his eyes to look right up at us when I said Alexei. We took that as a sign he liked the name. He really was the baby I’d imagined, our Alexei John. We were both amazed how he’d answered his name, he knew exactly who he was! (Not to mention a bit relieved, we didn’t have a second name on stand by.)
Liam meanwhile, had still been watching quietly, Nikkie filling him in, and lifting him up so he could see, I suddenly realised he was there, and wanted him to come meet his brother, so I called him over to the side of the pool, it felt wrong with only Liam, so I asked Ryan to wake Zeke too. They were both quietly impressed about their brother, and more interested in the pool, Liam was forever dipping his hands in and out of the water, watching the drips. I think he would have dearly liked to get in as well! Zeke was smiling for the most part, very impressed, but not saying much, Liam looked pretty tired as he’d only had a few hours sleep.
The water was still crystal clear, unlike Liam‘s birth I had not lost even a drop of blood, and other than some after pains I was feeling amazing. Alexei had a little feed in the pool too, his latch immediately perfect - and so comfortable after a toddler mouth full of teeth! After a while, with the added stimulation from nursing, I could feel the after pains building in intensity and the boys’ chatter began to annoy me, so Nikkie took them down to the back of the house to play. Kusum suggested I think about standing up and birthing the placenta, I had some panadiene to help take the edge off the cramps, and realised I was feeling pretty awful with it still in me, so it was time to make a move. I wanted to get out of the pool first, as with the extra water that had been added, the water came up very high on my chest and I was having difficulty keeping his face out of the water and letting him feed.
We had discussed 3rd stage during our meetings, and I was unsure if I wanted to have a natural 3rd stage as I had hated the physical sensation, and wanted it over fast after Liam’s birth, I was also hesitant about blood loss, as my iron was low. However, Kusum was confident that if we were not interrupted during the first few minutes after birth, Alexei allowed to feed as he wanted, and I was kept warm and not hurried to move, I would be fine, and I agreed to wait and see, but if I began to get uncomfortable, I wanted to switch to active management. As it turned out, physiological 3rd stage went perfectly. I stood up, and Kusum could tell by the movement in the cord that the placenta was loose, so still standing in the pool, she got an empty ice cream container ready to catch, it still felt awful, but the relief when it was out was instant. We shuffled a few steps to the couch, where I sat on a few towels and had some absolutely deliciously warm ones wrapped around my shoulders. I had no idea how or why they were so warm, but I didn’t care, it felt amazing. A couple of days later, I discovered folded towels in my oven, and realised where the supply was coming from, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in and out of my kitchen!
The boys had wandered back in just in time to see the placenta come out, and Zeke looked quite shocked by it, I pointed it out to Ryan and Nikkie, who explained what was going on. We had read the book Hello Baby a number of times, so they understood what it was, and once we were on the couch, both Zeke and Liam were very interested in the cord and the placenta, and how it was still attached to Alexei’s belly. Julie set to work on my kitchen, which was looking worse than usual after being so exhausted the last few days, and Kusum watched, took notes and helped clean up.
Alexei and I cuddled on the couch for a while, the placenta sitting in its tub next to us. He began to feed again, gulping strongly, his cheeks hollowing purposefully and swallowing loudly. While he had his feed, Kusum tied off the cord with extra yarn from my blessingway binding, and Ryan cut it. It bled slightly, although it had looked perfectly white and limp at the time. Once we were separate from the placenta, Kusum checked it out, it was perfectly whole, healthy, quite large, and heart shaped! After a very long feed, it was time for Ryan’s first cuddle, and as he had with the bigger boys, he took his shirt off so Alexei could lay against his skin. He kept moving to the other couch from where I was though, which bugged me, I was not ready for my baby to be quite so far away from me just yet - all of 5 feet!
While Ryan cuddled Alexei, I began to think of a hot bath. Julie ran it for me, and I hobbled down the hallway with Kusum to check if I had any tears. I did, quite a decent labial one again, though my perineum was intact. I asked anxiously if it needed to be stitched, and Kusum explained that this one was big enough to require it, but with good care and careful movement the way the two edges sat, it should heal nicely on its own. I opted for good care - I was far more scared of stitches than the tear itself! With manuka honey and Julie’s herbal baths for healing, the tear healed quickly and as though it had never torn to begin with. I soaked in a bath, that as I requested was “volcanic hot”, Julie asked if I wanted Alexei in with me, but I felt the water was too hot, and I wanted to give Ryan some time with him.
By the time I hopped out, my kitchen looked like new, and a hose was set up, beginning to syphon the water out of the pool and straight to the storm water drain - conveniently on our front lawn. Julie and Kusum helped me get my pyjama pants on and Alexei came back for yet more milk, he was also weighed 3.25kg, about 7 pound 2 ounces, my middleweight baby, a little smaller than Zeke, a little bigger than Liam. Nikkie took the placenta home to dehydrate and turn into capsules for me, which turned out to be an amazing benefit, my milk came in sooner, my mood was more stable, and my bleeding was less. I wish I had known about placenta pills earlier! The boys were playing in and out of the lounge, coming back to check on their brother and to ask repeatedly what his name was. Liam called him “Alexei-John” for the first week, running the names together beautifully. We laughed when we noticed the time - we could have been watching the early airing of Dr Who right then! The Day of the Doctor indeed, and not a doctor in sight for this birth. I was thrilled!
Ryan realised that it meant at least one of his sisters would be awake, and went out to make some calls. Kusum left a little after that too, as we were all doing well, and my bleeding was of no concern. She took with her the beads from my blessingway and wove them into the dream catcher I had planned for, using willow from her own garden, it is just beautiful, and such a special gift, and a very nice memento of Alexei’s birth for those who are squeamish about placenta prints and dried cord stumps - some lovely work from Nikkie along with the pills.
Julie asked if I was hungry and brought me some strawberries and grapes to nibble and some orange juice. Sitting on the couch, my hours-old baby resting on my lap, the pool where he had been born just a metre or two in front me, my two big boys running freely around their space, returning briefly to inspect their brother, then flitting off again - how amazing. I couldn’t have felt any better, Julie kept pottering around the kitchen and laundry, I could hear her singing in the background. How lovely to have a wonderful, birth-wise woman caring for me! It all felt so surreal somehow.
Ryan returned, having managed to contact some of his family and let them know the good news. My phone was beginning to go haywire too - we’d messaged the women holding my space shortly after the birth and they had begun to wake up and see our announcement. It was now nearing 7am, and the long night and excitement had started to hit, we decided it was time for everyone to go back to bed for a while. Zeke took some convincing, especially as the sun was up, and Liam cuddled up next to Ryan but we were all asleep - including Julie on the sofa bed - very quickly.
The boys didn’t sleep long, and were up and out of bed after maybe 90 minutes or so. I kicked Ryan out after them, but Julie sent him back to bed while she fed them breakfast and did more laundry. I woke properly myself after only 2 and a half hours of sleep, and couldn’t believe my eyes, there was a tiny, perfect, peacefully sleeping little baby snuggled next to me. I lay there and admired him, too excited to go back to sleep, and hardly able to believe that the simple, no-fuss, quick birth had really taken place. Lying quietly next to Ryan, who was still absolutely out of it, I made some phone calls, first to my mum, and then to my grandmother, who was thrilled as it turned out that it was her father’s birthday, a special date I wasn’t aware of! (Technically he wasn’t born on the anniversary of Dr Who, that was the 23rd, but with time zone differences it was the 24th for Australia.)
The day floated by, Julie made me eggs on toast for breakfast when I emerged a little later, just what I needed after a late-night labour! Ryan’s mum and a couple of his sisters visited later in the day too, they had planned to come up anyway, but the pre-baby helping out visit turned into an admiring the baby one instead. We shared the mudcake I had asked Ryan to get late the night before as well, a ‘birthday’ cake of sorts in Alexei’s honour. I was still in absolute awe that evening, I couldn’t believe how good I felt, I was tired of course, but physically going amazingly, and unbelievably happy.
It wasn’t till I reflected on the birth, that I realised how much intuition there’d been, even years earlier, hearing Alexei’s name, his birth story, seeing him be born into my own hands in the water, predicting the date as a joke, to just hours before his birth, the way I repeated “I’ll either go to sleep, or go into labour as soon as Ryan gets home” , sending Ryan on a hurried shop mission and preparing the space for a baby I was still telling myself was a day or so away. His birth was exactly what I’d wanted, ‘just’ a birth, no huge fuss, quite quick and very simple. Just a birth... but what a birth!
Oh... and the Dr Who 50th Anniversary episode we predicted we’d miss? The five of us sat down as a family that night to watch it together!
Julie asked if I was hungry and brought me some strawberries and grapes to nibble and some orange juice. Sitting on the couch, my hours-old baby resting on my lap, the pool where he had been born just a metre or two in front me, my two big boys running freely around their space, returning briefly to inspect their brother, then flitting off again - how amazing. I couldn’t have felt any better, Julie kept pottering around the kitchen and laundry, I could hear her singing in the background. How lovely to have a wonderful, birth-wise woman caring for me! It all felt so surreal somehow.
Ryan returned, having managed to contact some of his family and let them know the good news. My phone was beginning to go haywire too - we’d messaged the women holding my space shortly after the birth and they had begun to wake up and see our announcement. It was now nearing 7am, and the long night and excitement had started to hit, we decided it was time for everyone to go back to bed for a while. Zeke took some convincing, especially as the sun was up, and Liam cuddled up next to Ryan but we were all asleep - including Julie on the sofa bed - very quickly.
The boys didn’t sleep long, and were up and out of bed after maybe 90 minutes or so. I kicked Ryan out after them, but Julie sent him back to bed while she fed them breakfast and did more laundry. I woke properly myself after only 2 and a half hours of sleep, and couldn’t believe my eyes, there was a tiny, perfect, peacefully sleeping little baby snuggled next to me. I lay there and admired him, too excited to go back to sleep, and hardly able to believe that the simple, no-fuss, quick birth had really taken place. Lying quietly next to Ryan, who was still absolutely out of it, I made some phone calls, first to my mum, and then to my grandmother, who was thrilled as it turned out that it was her father’s birthday, a special date I wasn’t aware of! (Technically he wasn’t born on the anniversary of Dr Who, that was the 23rd, but with time zone differences it was the 24th for Australia.)
The day floated by, Julie made me eggs on toast for breakfast when I emerged a little later, just what I needed after a late-night labour! Ryan’s mum and a couple of his sisters visited later in the day too, they had planned to come up anyway, but the pre-baby helping out visit turned into an admiring the baby one instead. We shared the mudcake I had asked Ryan to get late the night before as well, a ‘birthday’ cake of sorts in Alexei’s honour. I was still in absolute awe that evening, I couldn’t believe how good I felt, I was tired of course, but physically going amazingly, and unbelievably happy.
It wasn’t till I reflected on the birth, that I realised how much intuition there’d been, even years earlier, hearing Alexei’s name, his birth story, seeing him be born into my own hands in the water, predicting the date as a joke, to just hours before his birth, the way I repeated “I’ll either go to sleep, or go into labour as soon as Ryan gets home” , sending Ryan on a hurried shop mission and preparing the space for a baby I was still telling myself was a day or so away. His birth was exactly what I’d wanted, ‘just’ a birth, no huge fuss, quite quick and very simple. Just a birth... but what a birth!
Oh... and the Dr Who 50th Anniversary episode we predicted we’d miss? The five of us sat down as a family that night to watch it together!
