Stubborn and determined. Two words Beckah will identify with when she planned her unassisted home birth. She combatted negative feelings and worked through many doubts and fears but Beckah made the birth of her dreams come true. Here’s her story.
I’m not even sure I like the flavours in a vindaloo or the challenge more? Either way, my reasoning for having one felt purely to tick some boxes. Have lots of sex, they say, have a hot curry, eat 56 pineapples in 30 seconds etc. Does any of that work? Who knows. But one thing I do know, babies come when they are ready.
Cue 4.33am the following morning.
I awoke suddenly and instantly, cursing my local curry house while blurry-eyed searching for my gaviscon tablets. Off to the toilet I waddled hoping I could make it.
Mummy where are you? Mummy? Are you doing a poo? Yes to all the questions you are shouting through the wall at silly o’clock, son.
After ten minutes, I returned to bed and cuddled Ethan. I put the hairdryer on because it’s the only noise in the world that makes me feel better when I feel poorly or restless. But Nope,nuh uh, no way I could sit down. Back to the toilet for me. I lost my bloody show, but I was still not accepting this was labour.
I decided not to wake Sean at this point, as I felt very adamant I was not in labour and it was the vindaloo. I made it to about 5.10 am before messaging my doula to let her know the jury was out – over spiced curry or adorable babe? She was ready. Within 15 minutes, I started to get fast and furious lower back pain. I was feeling scared anxious and crowded. I couldn’t leave the toilet room, the lights were so bright and the candles too dim, everything was off. I felt grumpy, I felt out of control.
I woke Sean up. I asked him to pump up and prepare the pool. I knew he could sense my distress. Sean is such a calm and wonderful man. He told me to stay present and be calm. The doorbell rang and it was Rachael, my doula. Hey Rach!
Shortly after, I decided to get in the pool. It wasn’t filled very much but it was enough. It had to be; time wasn’t hanging around. It was around 5.45am when I realised the surges were coming in strong. They lacked in timing or pattern, they lacked in everything Google had ever tried to teach me, but why question your own body? Why? And oh my goodness EVERYONE STOP GOOGLING , myself included.
I used very vague hypnobirthing breathing throughout, mainly because I used an awesome cd, which I often forgot to listen to or fell asleep to. I used grunting and visualisation, or could I say the visuals used me? I saw lots of things during birth. Mostly, I saw my dad in my mind – his broad northern attitude, his strong accent telling me I’m bat shit for doing this, probably making some vindaloo joke and definitely laughing at the poo drops that I couldn’t control that were slowly filling the pool. He got me through that phase. Thanks dad.
I felt Eugene’s head move down. That’s when I knew shit was getting real. I decided it was a good time to explore my vagina, see what I could feel in terms of the head and how far. I’m so glad I did. I instantly felt in control and I needed that.
At this point, my surges were intense and I felt the only way through was breathing, grunting when needed and doing what my doula said.
LISTEN TO YOUR BODY BECKAH.
These words got me through. I will be forever grateful to my doula.
After an hour of this, maybe less, Eugene Wizard was born. I felt my waters pop in the pool and, bam, he came. I had 3 surges and he entered earth side, still in his sac with a tear in it. It was mind blowing – he was calm, asleep and alive.
I gently waited for his shoulders to come through with another surge, picked him up with my own two hands and brought him to my chest. This moment has been on long play repeat ever since. Ethan came into the room as Eugene was born and we all sat gazing. I did it, we did it. WE DID IT.
Eugene Wizard Hill was born, 7.07 am (we think,we were all a bit high to check). He was beyond perfect. I stayed in the pool for another 20 mins or so and then remembered to call the hospital, who sent out some pretty pissed off but lovely paramedics to cut his cord, followed by a midwife. My placenta was, literally, farted out seconds before they arrived and was almost caught in the bucket by my awesome partner, Sean.
I honestly could not have done this without the support and love of Sean Hill, Ethan Hill or Rachel Stobart, my doula and my mum, who was by me in my mind the entire time.Thank you to you all.
My advice? Get a doula, one you trust, one that gets you, one you will love forever. Find your jam, a pool is mine, I had no idea until I got in it. Believe in yourself,
Beckah is 36 year old punk rock feminist to her two beautiful babies Ethan Milo and Eugene Wizard. A trained baby wearing consultant, who loves film cameras and has a deep passion for writing about shit that means something to her.
*Editors Note
This is the latest labor in our new Punky Moms birth story series and we are grateful to be sharing these stories with readers like you. Care to share your birth story? We would be honored if you would consider sharing yours with us. Send us an email and say hello.
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