Daniela's Story

Before having Grace (my third child, born at home in a birth pool) whenever I heard stories of “active births” or a home water birth I always thought that must be something for “special”, “alternative” or simply “weird” people.

It might be that, being Italian, I come from a culture where you never challenge the medical establishment, you are not encouraged to read and be opinionated, you simply submit yourself to what the “Doctor” says, and you generally go along with what is the common established practice (that is a hospitalized, medicalized birth, preferably a Caesarean). In Italy a home water birth is indeed something very alternative, if it happens at all!

Luckily, I have had the opportunity to have a very positive and deep experience with Grace. Her home water birth was the most natural unfolding of events I could have ever dreamt of, something the body had always being ready for and knew how to deal with, a return to the roots, if you want, rather than a fashion or a mere disdain for a conventional birth.

At 2.30 am I started having the first contractions, mild and gentle, but enough to keep me awake. Knowing that my previous birth had only lasted three hours, I was concerned that this time I would deliver in 45 minutes or so, before I could really get organized (and most importantly organize my two other children with the ever so available and supportive parents-in-law). Instead, something else was in store for me.

I kept contracting every 10 minutes all through that beautiful Sunday, feeling a bit cheated by it all (Wasn’t the baby supposed to shoot out in 45 minutes?, What is this in slow motion?). I decided to follow Sophie (my midwife)’s very wise piece of advice and try and live a normal day, despite the regular appointment with the contraction, every 10 minutes or so. My husband and I went out for a walk, went to Mass, had a nice lunch and watched a couple of DVDs (Ocean’s Eleven and the first episode of Star Wars), which was a special treat, given that we hardly ever watch TV!.

I must confess that towards the evening I was starting to feel impatient and fed up with the slow pattern of my labour. However, I never thought of it in terms of progressing or not progressing fast (during my second labour I remember being told that “I wasn’t progressing well”, something that should maybe eliminated from the list of things to say to mothers in labour!). Instead I tried to be consistently positive, especially when, towards the evening, I was feeling physically tired and unsure of what was going to happen. I remember silencing one little voice asking “How many more of these contractions do I have to take?” or “When is it all going to end?”, by repeating to myself “Think of all the contractions that you have already welcomed and are behind you, each one of them is important and has done its job before fading away”. Positive thinking, which before might have been just a “New Age” fashionable saying, became for me a real help, a useful and effective weapon to support my body.

During labour I also practiced the breathing techniques that I had learnt during my 10 week antenatal yoga course. I am ever so grateful to Janet, my yoga teacher for having passed on to me a little of her energy and faith in what we can do with our mind and body in daring moments like labour and birth. Again, while previously breathing had seemed to me rather irrelevant, this time I understood the meaning of it all. I was breathing nicely to welcome each contraction, inhaling energy, visualizing a golden light, thinking of opening up or counting the outbreaths to accompany the contraction till the end, knowing there would be an end, trying to let go of all the tension on the outbreath, feeling the strength of the earth with my feet. I remember ordering to my shoulder to go down and relax and not to hunch up when the pain of the contraction was coming. I can’t stress enough how essential breathing was for me, and how revolutionary it was it all, it worked for me, it was working and I could do it!

Two other essential tools helped me greatly. First of all, the birth ball. It allowed me to be in the most comfortable position, I felt relieved of the weight of the (huge) belly and could easily rock my pelvis when the contraction came (something my body did instinctively). Then the birth pool. Towards the end of the first phase, when the contractions were coming really strong and closer, my legs had started to tremble and I felt that the birth ball couldn’t offer me any more relief. It was time to move on. My husband very timely recommended that I go into the pool.

A word about my husband: this time his presence was particularly participative and extremely important. I realized that maybe the previous times I hadn’t asked or even wanted his help. When the contractions ushered in the final hike, I felt this need to wake up my husband (at that point we were trying to doze and save our energy – especially mine – for later) and hold his hand, clutching it as strongly as possible. I remember thinking that I needed his masculine strength to ride through the new, most intense, phase. Later on, when I was in the pool, my husband’s help was also comforting as he mopped my sweaty face and offered me little sips of water.

When I entered the pool I knew I had to be physically resilient to be able to pass from floating and relaxing to the correct position for the contractions. I must say that my initial qualms disappeared immediately when I felt the warm soothing water, embracing me all around. I also loved the strong rim of the pool which I could clinch onto and squeeze whenever I had a contraction, I was either sitting or squatting leaning forward and rocking my pelvis at each contraction.

The water seemed to be the most appropriate and natural environment for either me or the baby. I particularly enjoyed the lull (finally, it was happening to ME!!!) between the first and second stage. I had read about it in books, but never actually believed that it was possible to have a heavenly moment of peace and absence of pain after transition and before pushing. At that stage, I was very focused, my whole self inwardly withdrawn, my eyes closed, like in a trance, and experiencing that magic lull in warm water was indescribably blissful.

Finally, the urge to push, like an erupting volcano or an overwhelming avalanche. A primordial force that I could only welcome and go along with. I was particularly aware of the baby wanting to come out, the crowning of the head and then, within seconds, the whole body simply slithered out. It was 11.24 pm. My midwife was very good in guiding me, making me turn on all fours when the baby was coming out. It was such and explosive, but yet again straightforward and natural event. Amazing.

The baby was in my arms and it was a baby girl: what a surprise!!! I burst into tears and I had a beautiful cathartic crying which my whole self really wanted to have, possibly to let go of all that had happened to me, all that long day which had started at 2.30am.

One last thing I’d like to share. Grace’s birth was such a profoundly positive experience that I cannot even remember the pain of labour, probably because it was a creative and meaningful pain I had allowed to go through my body. Within hours I was back to my own self, experiencing a deep peace, a delightfully baby mood that I nurtured with Palestrina sacred music (a CD I keep only for these special occasions), and my husband says he is proud of me.

Daniela