A record of my own birth written by my Mum 35 years ago and perhaps where it all started.

A few years ago my Mum found the hand written accounts she had made of each of her 5 births. I am ofcourse often asked why I chose midwifery and without a precise answer what I do know is that throughout my childhood my Mum was always able to share her birth stories with us positively. What a gift, particularly as a woman, to recieve. Her stories were not of fear or trauma but of the journeys she went to to birth each of us. She speaks fondly of her births while also not shying away from saying yes it was painful. This alwasy struck me as unusual, so many stories I heard from my friends parents or even just out and about in the community were at the best caveated alongside a shudder. She faced disapproval from the doctors particularly with me as they were concerned that I was a small baby, she made an informed decision to step out of the doctors care and choose only midwifery care, declining further scans in her pregnancy with me and declining all scans in her future pregnancies. Her first baby, my sister, Keziah, was born with severe cerebral palsy and as such my parents were very used to the medical system and making decisions that worked best for them as a family but definitely decisions that were not the usual things recommended, be that birth place, medication or routine screening to name a few presented in pregnancy. Her choices were not entirely without fear or knowledge but they were informed and felt right and safe for her family.

With her permission (ofcourse) I have shared her account of my own birth below.

I woke at 02.30 to a familiar ache. There was the softest rain falling so quietly outside and the occasional flash of far away lightening. After one or two contractions (more widely spaced than “usual” - 10 minutes instead of 4!), I woke Trevor to say I thought the baby was coming and we waited together during a few more contractions. I then turned over and announced I was going to sleep as I was pretending (?) that it was a false alarm. A real conker told me it wasn’t and I got out of bed.

Before I write of her birth, I should mention visions. When I was pregnant with Fred, I always felt he was a boy and Trevor too had a dream of me holding a baby boy in my arms. No surprises when Fred turned up. When I’d given birth to Fred I’d felt that my next baby would be a girl. And while pregnant this time, Trevor had a dream and knew on waking , we had to call this baby coming Rachel. One night too, I woke and “saw” a child, aged about 2, standing next to a tall swiss cheese plant we had in our bedroom. She had dark hair and she eyed me solemnly for some while before going again. I was sure this was our child in the future.

So, visions. And now back to the journeying. During the contractions I really went into the pain, closing my eyes and trying to find where exactly it came from. I went down inside myself a long long way and felt like I was gently falling into a dark place but didnt find the root of the pain.

Thereafter followed the majority of cotnractions, almost inevitably occuring with me on the loo. To vary a theme though, I sang, or “toned”my way through this labour. I was very keen not to wake the children if at all possible so I tried to make a sound through the contrctions rather than bellowing. CLosing my eyes, I elt the sound flow out.

Trevor was making things ready downstairs. He went into Kezzie’s room to get some things and she was lying wide awake and birght eyed, knowing everythig…

I came downstairs with cotnractions coming fast and frequent and Big. Breathng doesn’t seem to help my pain but I persisted with my “singing”. Walking and moving with Trevor behind me rubbing my belly and holding his arms around me. I love him so.

Pushing sensations started to make themselves felt and I got a bit worried. No breaking of waters yet, no midwife. I tried panting like I’d read one “should” but I didn”t know if my bottom should be sticking in the air and it seemed a bit silly to be wondering about such a thing. Not to worry…. pop! Went the waters and a warm gentle flood bathed my legs. Trevor was in the process of taking my trousers off and narrowly missed getting wet. Phone went. Pace hotting up now. Let trevor go once I felt “safe”. Midwife. Lost in Buckfastleigh. Heard Trevor giving calm precise directions (what would it take for him to lose his cool??) When he came back, the pushes were coming and found myself kneeling with my head over the washing up bowl (in case of sickness) and Trevor behind me. It was obvious by now that the babe was not going to wait for any midwife. To stop myself shouting out loud, I found my mouth irresistably drawn to biting on the rim of the bowl. trevor meanwhile watched the baby’s head emerge: eyes. pause. nose. pause. mouth. pause. Baby screws up face in grimace but doesn’t cry. One more push and Rachel is here. Trevor sucked her nose and mouth and held her gently announcing “it is Rachel” as if we’d ever really doubted. As she was borna dn immediately afterwards the waters flooded down and apparently (according to the mdiwfe who came 5-10 minutes later) this was a textbook birth, with the waters breaking just before the emergence of the child, to sterilise the vaginal passage and during birth to ease the child’s way.

I said please let me hold her and I lay down on cushions (once we’d sussed the cord wouldn’t go round my leg and we’d passed her through like a rugby ball out of a scrum), with Rachel covered and under my nightshirt. She cried for a while then until she found her fingers and sucked them. After a while she had a steadfast suck on one of my breasts and remained quiet and content while the midwife did paperwork.

Fred woke at 05.30 and Trevor went to him and told him Rachel had come. Very solemnly he came downstairs with all his children. He kissed me and looked under the nightshirt at his sister. Gently he kissed her and then his children, one by one, all kissed Rachel on the head. He sat in the rocking chair, thoughtfully nibbling a biscuit and compeltely full of wodner and peace. The blood etc made no impact on him at all. It was beautiful.

At 6 Kezzie woke and came downstairs with Trevor. She smiled widely and happily at Rachel but appearedto be more interested in making friends with the midwife. She too paid no attention whatsoever in the messy side of things.

New born children are so wondrously tiny and perfect. What a wonderful experience to have aprticipated in, and especially for Trevor and I, and Rachel, to have shared it with no-one else except the angels.

Rachel Anna Rose 6lb 15oz 21 May 1989 at 4.30am (the same time as Kezzie and also on the cusp between 2 signs, what ever that means!)