At 40+3, at 3am on the 3rd of July, the night/morning of the new moon, I woke to contractions 10 minutes apart. Speaking to my baby, I let her know that I was excited to meet her soon, asking that she go gently, that we work together to ensure she was born beautifully and gently, at home.
​
Going to the bathroom, I took my last ever belly-selfie and listened to my hypnobirthing soundtrack. Back in bed I shifted through the discomfort and built a pillow fort to allow me to lean forward. Calm, but unable to rest, I got up to drink and wee several times. Every time I walked by the clock it showed repeated numbers – 3:33, 4:44, 5:55 – just as I’d seen throughout this pregnancy. I decided to get up and sat in my birth space, rocking back and forth with my forehead on the cold window. The space was beautifully prepared, both physically and spiritually – I could feel my tribe of women holding me in this space.

By 10am I felt nauseous; I was working during contractions, but still fine in between! Juz was telling me to stop doula-ing myself! I asked him to set up the pool, maybe that would help me zone in? Jo rang and we chatted through a couple of contractions; we decided she should come and check on us, and we messaged Jacquie and Ru too. Jo and Tash (student midwife) arrived at 11:11am and Jo confirmed that bub was engaged and happy. Jacquie and Jacqui arrived soon after, both bailed up by our dog, Obi. Then Ru arrived. Everyone was here! But I was sure it was too early!
​
I sat on the fit ball, Jo holding a heat pack on my back, Juz holding my hands/heat pack on the front. I felt so supported and loved! But I felt that this wasn’t doing anything! I sat and cried; big fat tears dripping onto my bare belly. “I just want to meet my baby!” Obi licked me, sitting by my side. I asked Jo why it wasn’t progressing; she suggested I get out of my head. I asked her with bitterness, “And how exactly do you propose I do that?” I don’t remember her response, the question was rhetorical.

“How much longer?” “As long as it takes.”
“I’m done!” “One at a time.”
“I need an epidural.” “No, you don’t.”

Each contraction felt worse than the one before! I needed a time limit, answers, SOMETHING! It was relentless. Willow (5.5yo), Hamish (2.5yo) and Juz were providing me water and massages. I was screaming, “Owwww, nooooo, noooo!” until Ru held my hand, massaged me and helped turn it into a “Yesssss-aaaa-owwwww!”
​
I was getting grunty at the end of contractions – ‘Good, we’re getting somewhere!’, but the grunty urges never got longer or stronger. “Jo, can I just start pushing? I need this baby out!” Jo suggested I see if I could feel baby’s head. I reached into my vagina and couldn’t feel anything noteworthy; just a squishy mess. “Where is this bloody baby!?!” I cried.

I was done; I asked Jo what we should do. I’d been in transition for what felt like days! Jo mentioned she could check where we were at. “Yes, let’s check!” As I stood, some bloody show came out – ‘Excellent! That happened when fully dilated with Hamish, this’ll be the same!’ I waddled into the bedroom believing I’d be 9‑10 cm. But I was 7 cm (Jo added I was stretching to 9 cm, apparently I blocked that out!). I despaired – this was too much! Jo reassured me it could go quickly from here, “Let’s just keep going.”
​
I got back in the pool, hating the world, angry at my body, screaming I’d done this before and could do it again! “Come ON baby, go gently!!!” I kept glaring at everyone through weak, cruddy contractions. My mum rang but couldn’t get through, so dropped by. I’d debated whether to have her there, now I was being given the chance to decide. I knew this was too intense for her, it felt too intense for me! I let her be sent home.

I was asked to try 20-30 minutes of contractions without pushing; cue horse‑lips, screaming, tantruming and kicking and punching the lounge! I calculated (still in my head, then) that 20 minutes would around 5 contractions; I did 4. Constant words of encouragement were everywhere now! I asked for the catheter to be removed. “Jo, can you check again?” Surely this was almost over!
​
The lip was still there. “I can’t DO this anymore!” I wanted the pool! More screaming, horse-lips, bum-in-the-air contractions and I started involuntarily grunting at the end. The next contraction, despite doing horse‑lips, my body pushed! “I NEED THE POOL!!” I hopped in, collapsing to my knees. Relief! Then the next contraction came and so did babe’s head – whoa!! I heard Jo ask, “Is that bub’s head?” “Yep.” “Ru, get in here!”

I wanted to birth the placenta in the pool, but had to get out for the bleeding. I waddled to the lounge. Hamish watched closely (“Whoa, mum!”) as I birthed the placenta with some gentle help from Jo. I ate toast and honey tea as I soaked in the beautiful bub I’d just birthed, surrounded by the love and support of my incredible birth team.
​
Jo measured Evalie and tied the cord, Willow cut the cord, Hamish cut our mother’s blessing bands and then we ate birth‑day cake that Jacquie made with the kids while I laboured. We dressed Evalie and I showered (no pain!) and got into bed. Everyone said their goodbyes while Jacquie brought dinner. The kids were so overtired and excited! We chatted through how I felt and I couldn’t stop beaming – I was so proud, happy, and in awe of our perfectly complete family!