I have three children and it is fair to say that through their births I have experienced both extremes of child delivery. It was after the birth of my second daughter that I felt like climbing on roof tops and shouting to the world “have a home birth”. Instead, I thought I’d opt for the less laborious way of writing an article.

My eldest daughter was born in an emergency caesarean operation in hospital after twenty four agonising hours of labour. Like most other optimistic mums-to-be, I had an idealised labour plan, as recommended by the authorities on child birth, where I envisaged a natural, drug-free experience, albeit in a hospital environment. I really wanted it to be a water birth, too. 

Unfortunately, my idealised labour plan turned into somewhat of a nightmare. I arrived in hospital after seven hours of strong, frequent contractions, confident that I was about to give birth any minute. Alas, I was greeted by an indifferent midwife, probably at the end of her night shift, who unceremoniously told me I was one and a half centimetres dilated, which is not even considered labour. You can imagine how encouraged I felt. From then on it was a downward spiral. I for one find a hospital environment pretty depressing, however newly refurbished and well equipped the labour ward may be. It also didn’t help hearing a couple of other women go through their labour whilst I was agonising with mine. In particular, I heard one of them in the very last stage of delivery and I remember thinking as I heard her cries – “there’s no way I could go through that!”. I felt frightened, tired and discouraged, and even the arrival of my favourite midwife from the team who was looking after me throughout the pregnancy did not help my cervix dilate faster.

When in a hospital, it’s easy to give up one’s idealised birth plans and quickly opt for the magic drug that would do the trick. So I did. First came the pethidine (made me sick as hell), then the gas and air (no help whatsoever) and eventually the inevitable epidural. In fact three doses of it plus plenty of oxytocin to get the cervix going. None of it helped much. After twenty four hours the baby, let alone the mum, became distressed and I was such a wreck that they could have suggested jumping off the tower block to get labour going and I’d have done it. Instead they kindly suggested a caesarean, which I begrudgingly accepted because I just wanted this whole thing to be over and done with. I ended up feeling disappointed. Not with myself as one might expect but with feeling that I did not play a part in the birth of my child. From the moment I went into hospital I had little control over the process. 

I realised that on their part the medical team did everything they could to help, and I could not fault their care. But I wanted to find out for myself why, being fairly young, fit and well nourished, I ended up delivering in such a miserable, unenjoyable way. Finding the answer to this question was one of the things that prompted me to take a naturopathy (curing using natural means) and nutrition course. With the new, thought-provoking knowledge acquired, I decided to take on my second child as a “health project”. I was determined to have a natural, drug-free home birth – and a water one, too. I’ve always been known as an extremist… 

Now here starts the positive side of this article. I discovered why it was that I ended up with a c-section, and as a result did a lot of nutritional work on myself in the year leading up to the pregnancy and during the pregnancy itself. I also used homeopathy during the pregnancy and had my special kit ready for the big moment. When I felt the need I was helped here and there by other alternative therapies, but in the main it was my work with my body to ensure I give my baby the best start in life from the very first moment. 

With me on the ante-natal route was Mother Earth Midwife Margaret Hill, with 20 years of experience in home birthing – quite a phenomenon in England, where home births are not exactly popular. I was thankful to Margaret that she took me on board despite the background of an emergency c-section. Most people around thought that I was mad to attempt such an ambitious delivery with a history like mine. But I suppose the one thing that did it for me was losing my fear. In a very natural way I was quietly confident that everything would be OK, that I could do it. There can be much fear surrounding home birth – what if the baby is unwell; what if something goes wrong with me; what will happen in an emergency; what do we do without a doctor around; or in my case – what if the caesarean scar bursts, and so on and so forth. But I had none of this on my mind. I had the support of a very understanding midwife and simply knew everything would be fine – and so it was. 

Giving birth at home is a totally different experience. When the time came – a very civilised 7am – our three year old was taken out by her grandfather for the day. From then on all attention was focused on me. There were no people to-ing and fro-ing – it was just Margaret, my husband and myself. It was quiet, so no agonising women in the background. I didn’t have to bring along various props – from bean bags to a tape recorder. It was all there if I wanted it. Margaret made creative use of different parts of the house, making me go up and down the stairs, hold on to the banisters, lean against the stairs or lie propped-up in bed as necessary. My husband was able to be a full partner, which he wasn’t really able to in the hospital. He did a lot of reflexology on my feet to relax me (no, he is not an alternative therapist) and massaged my back when it was hurting. And… he managed the birthing pool, which needed to be put up, filled with water and kept warm throughout. The hours passed, the pain became more intense yet, believe it or not, the thought of pain relief did not even cross my mind. I suppose it’s being at home that does it – you simply know it’s unavailable, so you don’t think about it. You resort to the basics that women have used since the beginning of time –breathing and the human touch (plus the knowledge that this is an unstoppable process!). 

On Margaret’s advice I waited for the pain to become even more intense so that I could fully benefit from the relaxing effect of 250 litres of deep, warm water. What a relief! I can’t say the water has eased the pain – it certainly was no picnic – but for a water lover like myself it was the perfect environment. It was warm, safe, comforting and soothing. I could move about easily and change positions freely, I could float in between contractions. I felt light and supported. Most importantly, I felt relaxed or as relaxed as one can be under such painful circumstances. I was at home – the home that I love so much, the lights were dimmed, everything was quiet and peaceful, there was minimal intervention. There were no protocols to follow, no papers to fill in, no monitors to slave to. Nature was allowed to take its course. 

The end bit, the pushing stage, was oh so very painful, yet it passed surprisingly quickly. Ronni, our second daughter, popped into the water and was put in my disbelieving arms just as I thought I’d never see the end of it… Ah, the sense of joy, relief and achievement – it was far more intense than the pain, which ceased immediately the baby was out. We stayed together in the water, me sobbing my eyes out, Ronni happily kicking her legs and arms, for about 15 minutes until we all calmed down a bit, the cord was cut and Ronni was wrapped and checked. I refused to be dragged out of the pool - it was just too warm and cosy and I literally floated. 

The rewards of this home birth were many, including no tear and wear and bouncing back to normality within an incredibly short time. Yet the biggest reward of all was actually enjoying child birth. Yes, it was terribly painful. Yes, at times I thought I’d lost it. Yet looking back on it, I’d happily repeat the experience because it was so very positive, which is what prompted me to write this article. I hope this article will encourage other women to consider home birth as one of their options. There is no doubt that medical advances in the last century have made child birth safer and less painful. But as with many medical discoveries and inventions, what was once a natural process has become over-medicalised. The soaring rate of caesarean sections is proof enough that something is not quite as it should be. Home birth is often actively discouraged even by midwives, which is a shame. If undertaken by experienced people, it presents a natural, simple, no-frills way of getting in touch with your body and allowing it to do what it was created to do, in a relaxing, secure environment.  

Labour can be a joy.

© Vardit Kohn, natural nutritionist, April 1999         No part of this article may be used or reproduced without the prior consent of the author.