An Ordinary Day (The Story of My Second Freebirth)

The final few weeks of pregnancy for me were filled with many sensations in my changing body. Movements from my baby; stretch marks erupting across my lower belly; random releasing of mucous; many crampy feelings; a random afternoon of purging that I thought might be things starting. All of it preparing my body and mind perfectly for the birth ahead.

As I approached 40 weeks, my husband stayed closer to home, ever anxious, as he was sure I would birth around my guess date as I had had a "due date baby" last time. And 40 weeks came and went, and still no baby...

So many people had projected their stories onto me: I was so big, I had to go early; second babies come earlier than first babies; surely I wouldn't make it to 41 weeks. And unconsciously, I had taken some of that on - as much as I was also comfortable waiting up until 42 weeks for spontaneous labour if everything else was fine - part of me also believed it wouldn't come to that. But apparently, my baby had been listening and had to prove them all wrong by taking us through to 41 weeks and into the next month from my due month!

Every day past 40 weeks was a mental challenge. I felt like a watched pot, with people checking in, my husband anxiously hovering, and my body continuing to ready itself for the marathon ahead. My guess date was a Saturday, then we went out to church on Sunday, and my husband went back to work Monday! He thankfully had some work lined up closer to home, and we felt comfortable that he could make it home if I needed him, and I also felt that his time out of the house would do us all good! On the Tuesday my doula texted me: I feel like I need to be with you, how do you feel about me coming down??

What a surprise! After the roller-coaster of surrender we had all been through to get us to the point of choosing to freebirth alone, we had also decided on my doula and her 16mo travelling to us for postpartum support in the weeks after birth, for when my husband was ready to go back to work and I still wanted some support. Now I got to decide if I wanted her for birth and immediate postpartum or if I would rather wait and have her join us a week or two after birth. Ultimately, it felt right for her to join us as soon as possible, and there was also a very real chance that I would birth before she got here anyway! She spent the Wednesday preparing her home and family for being away, and started her trek south on Thursday, intending to be with us by Friday.

I spent Thursday pottering around the house, cleaned the bathrooms, communicated with my baby, and spent some time in the kitchen. I prepped some of the foods that I have loved making for other postpartum mums in my circle, and it made my heart so happy to be making the food that I fill with love for others for myself this time! Around midnight Thursday night, I experienced crampy surges, strong enough to wake me up. They didn't keep me awake however, and I was able to drift back off to sleep, but this was the beginning of early labour for me. When I woke Friday morning, they came to my notice once again; like period pain, that stretching, opening sensation of my cervix preparing for birth. The surges continued under the surface throughout the rest of the morning, enough that I noticed them, but not enough to pull me away from what I was doing. My husband headed off for work once again, and we all felt relaxed, knowing our doula would also be with us in a few hours.

She arrived around lunchtime; we put together some food, chatted, hung out, and settled in. The sensations in my body were still coming and going, but nothing too intense, so it was a good chance for us all to get acclimated. My doula's toddler was glad to be out of the carseat, and my 3yo was happy to have a friend, though she also needed to adjust to having someone else in her space, playing with her toys! Once the heat went out of the day, we went for a walk, did the evening chores, and prepped dinner. My husband got home from work, and we enjoyed a family meal together; it really felt like they were part of our family! Then we all headed to bed, to see whether baby decided to be born that night or not! (This was also the eve of a new month, taking me out of my birth month and giving me a November baby instead).

I had no trouble falling asleep, and it wasn't until around 2am Saturday morning I was awoken by strengthening surges once again. They came and went as they had been, too strong for me to sleep through, but somewhat dozing in between them, so I didn't feel the need to get out of bed yet. By first light they were getting stronger and I was just starting to think I might have to get out of bed and start moving through them to cope with the intensity, but around 5:30am the household came awake and with the morning hustle and bustle the surges faded into the background.

Hubby headed out to do a half days work, finishing up what he hadn't got to the day before. And my doula and I and the kids did the morning chores and hung out a bit until it was time for her toddlers nap. I was tired from my broken nights' sleep, and Miss 3 had been up earlier than usual with the excitement in the house, so we went for a lay down too; she ended up napping and I even got half an hours sleep, which refreshed me so much! We prepared a light lunch, the weather was hot, and we set up in the lounge room in the aircon for the afternoon; listening to music, chatting, and me on the birth ball. I was nervous about eating, as early labour in my first birth had me throwing up anything except fluids, but I felt I needed to fuel my body this time and picked at food throughout the day. I was really feeling the heat, so I planted myself right in front of the aircon, sitting on my ball, and moving my hips as it felt right.

The surges had been continuing to come and go all day but once we settled in the lounge room, they started to gradually get more intense. I was sitting on my ball, but the sensation was very low under my tummy, and it got to the point that I could no longer sit through them. So I would stand and breathe through each contraction, then sit on my ball in between. I had a deck of affirmation cards on the bookcase, and, serendipitously, the one facing out said 'insert faith wherever fear is.' Everytime I walked past that while I was in labour, I noticed it, and it was a good reminder. Hubby came home from work and joined us, just hanging out. I was kind of present but kind of off in my own little world. A part of me felt like I was going to be in this stage forever; that I was just going to have to keep breathing through surges and that was my life now! In hindsight, I was in labourland - but in the moment, I was in denial that I was in labour yet.

After a couple of hours of just being content to sit on my ball and stand through contractions, I started to get restless and felt a bit 'bracey.' I tried kneeling and leaning on my ball; I tried standing and leaning on the arm of the couch. I prowled around the house a bit; I stood and leaned on the kitchen counter, and my doula commented that she had a photo of me doing the exact same thing during my first birth! I went to the toilet to wee and sat through a couple of surges there, and hanging off the toilet door. The isolation felt good. I came back out to the lounge room and it felt too loud and busy, so I left and walked the house a bit more. It was hot, so I went to my bedroom and turned the aircon on. I stood at the end of my bed and leaned over, pressing my palms into the mattress; I felt too high up, so I dropped to my knees and braced my forearms on my bed. That felt better.

I ended up placing some puppy pads on the floor there (I had the reusable ones from kmart), and also one on the end of the bed - I alternated between sitting on the bed to rest in between and kneeling on the floor to ride out the waves. Once I retreated to the bedroom, Miss 3 came periodically to check in on me. I told her that our baby was ready to be born; she went and told my doula that "mummy's going to pop the baby out!" I think each time she popped back in, she fully expected that the baby would just be there! I breathed. I moved. I chatted with my toddler and doula as they popped in and out. At some point I took off my dress and put on the robe I had bought to labour in (part of me was still in denial that it was the real deal yet so I felt like it was too soon to dress for the event haha), and oiled my belly with a clary sage birth oil that was a gift from a friend.

After nearly two hours of this, my doula popped in to let me know she was going to take the kids out for a walk. My husband was also out, shifting vehicles around and getting things under cover as there was a storm blowing in. I was at the foot of my bed, on one knee with the other foot on the ground, when a strong wave hit; mid contraction I changed knees and as I lifted my leg to plant my opposite foot on the ground I felt my waters pop! All of a sudden, I could feel my very full bladder, even though I had been going to the toilet periodically all this time; it felt like I could finally empty my bladder properly for the first time all pregnancy!

I was still breathing my way through contractions up until my waters released, though things were getting more and more intense. Once my waters were no longer cushioning my baby's head, she started coming down hard and fast; and as I now had the house to myself, I unleashed. Within a couple of contractions after waters breaking, I was roaring my way through each wave; I had to. The volume was the only way I could cope with the intensity within me. No position was comfortable any more, but it didn't matter, because there was no way I could move from where I was! The only movement I could manage was swapping knees, as I needed that openness of one leg up, but couldn't stay either way for long. That last hour of labour was so intense. My body was working so hard; I had sweat pouring off me, despite being right under the aircon. Very soon, I shed my robe that I had intended to birth in - too hot, too overstimulating! With each surge, I yelled; long, low, and loud. In between, I had to make a very conscious effort to steady myself, to get my breathing under control - when I panted too much, I could feel the lack of oxygen and my vision got fuzzy around the edges. So I roared, and breathed, and watched my horses out the window in between the pounding waves, as the wind also roared outside...

It was just me and my baby, with the house to ourselves, moving through birth together. I could feel her moving down with each contraction, feel her moving and communicating with me and with my body. Right before I started to feel the next wave build, she would kick or move, making minute adjustments, readying herself for the next part of her descent. Our bodies intelligently worked together in that dance of birth. At some point, my husband came back to the house, came into the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes and told me he was going for a quick shower - I didn't say anything but I was mid roar so I was just like leave me alone haha! Then my doula and the kids got back to the house; my 3yo bounced into the room "is the baby here yet!?" Uh-oh, the next contraction was building, I didn't even have time to speak, to warn her; I just roared. Tears; I scared her; oops. She was a little upset, but she ended up getting her ear muffs (that she wears in the cattle yards when the gates banging are too noisy for her), and sitting out with her Dad in the next room, talking about the baby coming.

I was vaguely aware of my doula around, but she didn't interfere, just witnessed. At one point I heard the sucking sounds of her breastfeeding her toddler in the room with me; it made me smile. My baby moved down until I could feel inside and touch her head with the tip of my finger. Within a couple more contractions, she was crowning. And I wasn't ready. It felt too fast, too soon, too intense. I held back for a couple of surges, my body stretching, aching. Her head finally burst through, with my hand supporting my perineum as best I could. I felt myself tear. "Ow" I said. Then, a moment of stillness. I caught my breath, felt her head, felt her little face. Waited. Breathed. Thought, "hmm, this seems to be a big pause." (In reality, it was a full two minutes between the surge that birthed her head, and the one the brought her body out). I talked to my baby. Felt at the nape of her neck and felt the cord there, not tight. Looked up to the doorway, saw my doula watching; told her the head was out. Placed my hands on my tummy, feeling my baby, "are you ok?" And then felt it; her last kick, an adjustment, the surge building...

I was still on one knee with the other foot planted on the floor, I couldn't figure out how to get my hands down far enough to catch her, so I squatted back low as she came down, and plopped her onto the floor in front of me at 6.05pm on the 1st of November 2026. In the same movement, I continued all the way to sitting on the waterproof mats at the foot of my bed. My baby opened her big, beautiful, dark blue eyes and looked up at me, and I felt as if I'd always known her. She was wearing her cord across her shoulders and behind her neck like a shawl. She didn't cry then, just looked up at me, and I unwrapped her cord and scooped her up, held her, spoke to her, stroked her little arms and legs. As she integrated, she began to cry. I continued to talk to her and hold her, as we landed in that moment together.

While this was happening, my doula flitted around; turned off the aircon (apparently the room was freezing, I couldn't feel it!) She had set up her phone to record this emergence and landing which I was so grateful for! She sat on my toddler's floor bed, near where I was sitting, and it was only after a few minutes of meeting my baby that I looked over and realised she was even in the room. She passed me a towel to cover bub with, and then my water bottle - I was so thirsty after all that hard work! After a minute, I asked her to help me up, sitting directly on my bruised and torn perineum was painful - I'd forgotten how uncomfortable it was to sit after giving birth! We got me propped against some pillows at the end of the bed, and I asked for my hubby and daughter to come in to meet our new baby.

They came, we talked; Miss 3 was smitten. We peeked to find out if we had a boy or a girl - a baby sister! (When she landed on the floor in front of me, I didn't consciously notice, and then I'd scooped her up against my body and forgot to check, until we could all find out together.) My doula left the room to give us some time as a family. Very soon, I was uncomfortable again with how I was sitting, so I asked my husband to help me up, and I perched on a puppy pad on the end of the bed. Within seconds I was gripped with this unsettling sensation, and I didn't know what to do or where to be for a second. Then I stood up, and felt a little clearer - ah, the placenta's coming. My husband panicked a little bit and started to put another puppy pad on the floor, thinking only of the *splat* that would happen if it hit. I was just like, grab the bowl and catch it! So he grabbed the bowl and scooped between my legs as an aftershock of a contraction brought my placenta with it. In hindsight, this was a massive moment of trust for me because if he hadn't caught it, and my hands were busy holding my baby, I was standing up, and the floor was further away than the length of our cord, so it would have not been good had it free fell to the floor, but I trusted him to catch it for us.

After the placenta was born, I sat back on the edge of my bed until my doula came back with a cup of tea, then we set up a nest of pillows and puppy pads on my bed for me to lay down on with my baby on my chest for her first feed. And so began my postpartum, where I would stay for the next 5 days, being nourished and looked after! (The story of this will be another blog).

So the next few hours consisted of getting me to the shower while dad and baby had skin to skin, and then doing some weighing and measuring and admiring our new bundle. I got light headed and my vision went dark on the way to the shower, so I got down on the floor for a minute to recover. And again in the shower, the heat had a similar effect, and I squatted down to let some blood come back to my head... I had lost some blood, more than my first birth, and probably what most would determine a postpartum haemorrhage (more than 500mls), but apart from the getting up and moving around, I felt okay. It hadn't even occurred to me to reach for the herbal tinctures I had on hand to help with placenta release and/or bleeding. My body had built up the extra blood stores during pregnancy for a reason, and it was a good reminder to stay in bed, to rest, and heal!

After weighing (3.5kg), and measuring (52cm), my baby, we all finally went to bed at around 9pm. We had set up the cot side-car to our bed with level mattresses to give us the extra sleep space since our 3yo still lands in our bed most nights if she wakes during the night, with the idea being that baby would sleep in the cot, me on the join, and the rest of the mattress for dad and sister; but that first night, we let our big girl sleep in the cot, with dad on my side of the bed, and baby and me on the free side of the bed so that I could more easily get in and out of bed if I needed to. And so we went to bed, our first night as a family of 4...