Jasmin's birth report: My home birth

It was a balmy, sunny Friday in November. I was sitting in the car on the way from my pre-natal acupuncture to the hairdresser when I could clearly feel the pulling in my abdomen. Ah, something's happening now! I told myself I was having practice contractions. I had firmly resolved to deny everything until the last minute this time so that I wouldn't be so excited right from the start. Secretly, I knew this was the beginning.

When I arrived at the hairdresser's I quickly went to the toilet, the coffee from this morning had to come out. And that's when it happened: the mucus plug came out! Totally relaxed and excited at the same time, I sat down in the hairdresser's chair. I had decided to stay. After all, I wanted to deny it until the last minute! I also knew that, in theory, the mucus plug coming out didn't mean anything yet and it could be days before the birth started. Theoretically. Secretly, I knew it.

I didn't tell my hairdresser, it was my wonderful and exciting little secret. I had my hair cut shorter than ever before. Just below my ears, Victoria Beckham of the 90s. I felt somehow adventurous and thought to myself, it will probably be some time now before I have time to cut my hair again.
The tugging in my abdomen didn't increase significantly, but it didn't decrease either. When I was stuck in a traffic jam for 20 minutes on the way home, I felt a bit out of shape. Our shower is broken. The sanitary film for the birthing pool hadn't arrived yet. 1000 things were running through my head. A phone call to my father-in-law with an urgent request to fix the shower TOMORROW EARLY and the fact that the pulling in my abdomen became a little less intense at home calmed me down a little.
I knew that my baby and my body felt that there were still two important things that needed to be done to be able to let go completely: the shower and a conversation with the midwife.

One last clarifying conversation.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I was relieved. The night was calm. But it felt like the calm before the storm. My father-in-law arrived and I could literally feel the tugging in my stomach getting stronger as the shower fitting was installed. My midwife arrived at 4pm for a final consultation that had been arranged a long time ago. As I mentioned in my last article, there were a few discrepancies. I realized that I didn't feel strong and confident around her, but insecure.

These were things that I found hard to put into words, but I knew I needed to have a clarifying conversation before I could go into this birth with her.
As the three of us, my friend, the midwife and I sat at the table, the tugging became more and more pronounced and rhythmic. I often had to take breaks in the conversation to catch my breath. After a clarifying conversation, my midwife drove home with the words 'you'll call me when it's time'.
The day was long. At 8:30pm, my daughter was finally asleep in our family bed and my boyfriend and I had already gone to bed. He was about to doze off, but I couldn't sleep anymore. Now it really started.

Safe and secure in the family bed.

The pulling in my abdomen quickly became very intense. The pain rolled in and out like regular waves. It was definitely contractions.
I didn't want to leave the bedroom. I felt safe and secure there and my fear that my daughter would wake up was gone at that moment. My gynecologist was right. That was the magic of birth. In that moment, everything was forgotten and I knew: nothing could bother me anymore.

Because I wanted to deny it until the end, I decided to do 'the test' and take a shower. If the pain went away, I knew it was just training pains.
Grateful for the new faucet, I stood under the warm water that splashed over my back. The pain was definitely more bearable, but it didn't get any less, on the contrary. This is it. This is birth.

I sat down in my bathrobe on the bedroom floor. Only a tea light offered me guidance. As I began a meditative breathing exercise, the contractions increased in intensity at a rapid pace. I accompanied my circular movements in a sitting position with powerful sounds. 'I am opening up' was my inner mantra. My sound was now so powerful that my friend perked up and immediately called the midwife. I remember a brief moment when I thought I was going to throw up. Then I knew it wouldn't be long now.

Eight centimetres - I was in tears.

We decided to go down to the living room after all so as not to wake our daughter. We had also spontaneously decided to call my mother-in-law, who arrived shortly before the midwife and lay down with our daughter in the bedroom so that I could relax and know that she was being looked after. My midwife and my friend and doula Andrea arrived in quick succession and stayed in the background.
I did what I hadn't thought to do but needed at that moment.
I asked my midwife to check my cervix. I wanted her to feel 'if' and how wide it was open. Part of me still couldn't quite believe that this was REALLY birth already and not a miserably long and intense preterm labor like when my first daughter was born.

Eight centimeters. I was in tears. I couldn't believe it.
So it's true: in a few moments I'll be holding my baby in my hands.

An unexpected and exhausting delay was caused by a so-called 'cervical lip'.
One last small part of the cervix didn't want to retract completely. After a few changes of position and support from the midwife, I felt how the cervix was now fully retracted and the head was sitting very low. An incredible downward pressure. I could feel it so clearly. I felt completely safe and calm and also felt that she was safe and calm. And yet I was glad to have made it straight away. My legs were tired.
I squatted, supported by the arms of my friend and Andrea. The head was there and then the rest. For a second, I was stunned.
I actually did it. She was there, at just after midnight.
I'd had my baby at home.

We really had done it.

I accepted her and laid her on my stomach and chest and felt her warm, moist body breathing on me. My midwife, Andrea and my friend prepared cushions and blankets for me so that I could lie comfortably on the floor. We lay there for quite a while, my baby and I. The fire in our stove, the only source of light in the room, blazed in the background.
I had no injuries.
So after the placenta was born and the umbilical cord had completely pulsed out, my boyfriend cut it. Now he held her while I was supported and transferred to the couch, a little more comfortable than on the floor.
In the kitchen, a rice congee was cooking, a fortifying and warming dish that was to be my first meal, and the midwife and doula chatted and took care of the placenta and clearing away.

The three of us slept on the couch - the fire blazing in the background.

When my midwife and Andrea made their way home after about two hours, the three of us fell asleep on the couch in the living room with the fire still keeping us nice and warm.
We woke up shortly after 6:00 a.m. and a little later we heard our 2-year-old and my mother-in-law waking up in the bedroom upstairs. The stairs creaked with the careful steps of the two of them on their way down to us. I'll never forget the look on the big girl's face when she came around the corner and saw her little sister for the first time a few hours after she was born. With a sparkle in her eyes like Christmas.
Now there were four of us.