By 
My homebirth story is filled with comparisons. The beauty of already having given birth once is that it allows you to make more informed decisions and do things differently if you wish. For me, I truly did. With my first child, Eden, it was an assisted delivery that left me in shock. Everything had been progressing smoothly until a change of midwife disrupted my rhythm. The baby wasn’t moving down, I was exhausted, and eventually, I ended up in the operating room. Forceps were used, which was tough on both of us. This experience, although challenging, wasn’t as harrowing as some birth stories I’ve heard. Yet, it was the hospital environment afterward that was the hardest part. The morning after, another woman in my ward started smoking behind her curtain, and we were all rushed out. It was a moment that made me long to be home with my husband, but I had to wait until visiting hours.
This time, I knew I wanted a homebirth, to be in my own environment. Preparing for this second birth was tricky. We had recently moved into a house that needed renovation, I had a toddler, and I was managing a business. Finding any mental space was challenging. I tend to “wing it” with many things in life, which can go either way. At my 36-week appointment, my midwife discussed what a homebirth would entail. I was nervous, but ready to commit. My midwife supported me in designing my own birth plan, although I was prepared to go to the hospital if necessary.
As my due date passed, each day felt like “the day,” but it wasn’t until 40 weeks and 5 days that I felt the first signs. The contractions felt both familiar and foreign. I remembered just one line from a hypnobirthing course: “with each contraction, you are one step closer to meeting your baby.” It kept me going.
As an introvert, I draw energy from solitude, so giving birth in a dark, quiet room was perfect for me. My husband’s task was to fill the birthing pool, which he struggled with, calling my parents to figure out how to connect the hose to the tap. Despite the chaos, I eventually made it into the pool. The water provided relief I hadn’t realized I needed.
My contractions slowed but grew more intense, and I could feel the baby coming. This part of labor, the transition phase, was something I hadn’t experienced naturally before, and it felt like nothing I could have anticipated. Fortunately, it passed quickly.
At 11:39 pm, after 10 hours of labor, my son was born at home, in the pool. He weighed 9lb 8oz, and he was all mine. In that moment, I felt like a hero, though an exhausted one who couldn’t feel her limbs and was incredibly thirsty.
