Giving birth to my first child was the most horrific day of my life. The only comfort was holding my beautiful son.

I was two weeks late and booked in for a hospital birth. They had been suggesting inducing me for weeks now and I remember feeling extremely nervous. I finally went into labour, without any help, about 7am, had my breakfast and my hubby took me to the hospital. I was 19 and here I was, ready to give birth to my first child. I hadn’t a clue what to expect, what the pain was like or even what the labour ward looked like.

I was in extreme discomfort by the time I reached the hospital but was immediately examined and given an enema by a very frosty looking nurse who had obviously done this many dozens of times before and quite clearly didn’t enjoy it. I was now feeling very frightened.

I was put on what looked like a padded table and left in a room with my husband for hours and hours. The pains were getting unbearable and the labour was slow. I begged the nurse for some form of painkiller and she said she would talk to a doctor. The doctor visited and it was decided to give me an epidural. I had never heard of this before but it was explained that they would give me an injection in my spine from which I could suffer severe headaches; but that it would take the pain away. I begrudgingly agreed and they administered it straight away.

Progress was slow, I was now hooked up to a drip, to replace fluids, had an epidural in my back, a monitor strapped round my belly and the threat of a caesarean birth was making me even more nervous.

Over an hour later, the pain began to ease off and the numbness kicked in, now I really wanted to go home. From my hips and below I couldn’t feel a thing. I couldn’t move my legs and I couldn’t feel any contractions. The midwife was telling me when to push and it was then decided that I needed forceps.

After the birth finally came to an end, I needed both internal and external sutures (which needed to be removed, very painfully afterwards) and I can honestly say that that day was the worst and most painful of my life. I had to stay in hospital for four days, and for two of them I couldn’t regain the feeling in my legs properly. I was feeling very tearful, depressed and very sore and suffered postnatal depression for a while after the birth. However, my gorgeous baby son was born and he almost made up for any pain I had suffered.

Two years later I was expecting my second child and my memories of the hospital birth filled me with dread. The only thing that kept me going was that it surely couldn’t be any worse than my first child’s birth. For the whole pregnancy I was ill and feeling sick and being extremely tired were an everyday occurrence that I just got used to.

The night before his birth, I went to bed as normal, but woke up around 3am feeling wide-awake but uncomfortable. I shook my husband and told him I had stomach-ache but I guess he wasn’t listening. We both fell back to sleep. I woke up with a start not long after with a feeling of wetness on the bed. It was blood! My stomach was tight and the pains had got worse. I told hubby I was in labour and perhaps it would be a good idea to phone an ambulance. Of he went, dutifully phoned them and asked if I’d like a cup of tea!

The ambulance arrived quite quickly and two young ambulance men came upstairs to see how I was doing. Oh, said one, you are a little far into labour for us to put you into the ambulance, I think I’d better phone the hospital. Within minutes another ambulance had arrived equipped with an incubator and other special equipment. They also said I couldn’t be moved and sent for a midwife! The bedroom was getting quite crowded by this time and the kitchen was not much better. Many a cup of tea flowed that day and I didn’t even get a cup!

The midwife arrived and 15 minutes later my second son was born. It was a marvellous birth taking only 2 hours from me waking up to actually delivering him. I don’t remember suffering much pain and I didn’t have time to have any intervention. My GP expressed his dissatisfaction at my leaving it too late to get to hospital but I just chuckled to myself as it had been the nearest thing I could ever had to a perfect birth.

Third time lucky they say, and I guess it was, as this time I decided I was definitely having a home birth and nobody was going to get in my way. Giving birth at home was the most relaxing, comfortable unhurried way of giving birth that anybody could ever imagine so that was that.

I went along to ante-natal classes as expected and I explained to the elderly looking midwife that I had decided to have my baby at home. Her face went a funny colour of red and smoke left her ears as she told me that there was no way I could have a child at home and that was final. She told me ‘doctor’ would not hear of it and she then carried on scribbling furiously in her notes.

I felt a little upset after the conversation with my midwife probably because I expected at least some of the medical profession to be just a teeny bit more amiable towards pregnant woman, being in their fragile state of fluctuating hormones but I must have been deluded.

Never mind, I thought, I’ll make an appointment with my GP, he’ll understand. I chatted to him at length and explained my first birth to him and how I had suffered. Then I relayed the enjoyment I’d had with my second child, the differences, and how relaxed I’d felt. He listened, but I felt he wasn’t convinced how determined I was.

The months went on and questions were asked as to how I’d planned the birth. They offered me a domino birth, promised to listen to my needs in hospital, anything just as long as I gave birth in hospital. I was not discouraged in fact, all it did was made me even more stubborn. Many people tried to tell me gory stories of home births and how they had gone wrong, but I didn’t listen. I read many books and watched TV programmes, which gave me the confidence to do what I wanted to do. I had already had one home birth so I knew exactly what it was like.

The doctor and midwives had many a discussion with my husband and I, and I was told I was being silly on more than one occasion. I was also told how unsafe it could be to have a baby at home, although I had read that less than 1% of women give birth at home and that home births were extremely safe. In fact, in most cases, they are safer than hospital as the mother is generally more relaxed, so therefore doesn’t suffer as much pain.

Anyway I put my foot down and eventually they told me that although they didn’t agree with my decision, if I had decided to have my baby at home, that by law a midwife must attend the birth. That was it, I’d crack it! I’d finally got what I’d wanted.

A special pack was delivered to my home, sterile and ready for the forthcoming event. The midwife visited (old frosty face) and checked the room, making sure it was clean and that the furniture was arranged to her satisfaction. She complained also about the fact that we had a budgie, and explained in great detail that they carry diseases and shouldn’t be around children. I just prayed that when the big day came that she wouldn’t be on duty. And I got my wish.

I went into labour two weeks before my due date. It was early morning and the contractions were not very painful. I cleaned the house, did all the washing and pottered around, holding onto bits of furniture to guide me through my contractions. Hours went by and I decided to have a bath. A nice gentle soak to relax the muscles and ease the stronger contractions. We called the midwife and she came to have a look at me. She was middle-aged, kind and chatted to me as I tried to ease the pain. I wandered upstairs and tried to have a little snooze. No such luck. I got a hot water bottle for the discomfort in my back and then hung gently over the side of the bed. Relaxed, unhurried and calm. Once I decided things were hotting up I wanted to lie down, I chose entinox for the latter end of the pain and my daughter was born shortly afterwards with no intervention. No drips, no injections, no blood tests, no enema’s and no sutures. She was laid on my tummy until the cord was cut and then weighed and wrapped in a towel for me to cuddle. She was bathed, we took some photos, the midwife left us, and we all went to bed with one extra family member and a lot of happy memories.

Nine years later, we had a fourth child, another daughter. Another home birth. Unfortunately even nine years later things hadn’t changed at all. As far as I know, there still hasn’t been a dramatic increase in home births and the medical profession, in their so called infinite wisdom still have not changed their opinions on the fact that they consider home births to be unsafe. So for those women out there that would like to have a home birth, determination is the only way forward, say what you want and do not be deterred from getting it.

(Home page www.a-little-wish.org.uk)
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