Steph’s HBAC.

In the words of my doula, my homebirth after caesarean (HBAC) was extraordinarily ordinary, and the most transformative experience of my life to date. 

My first daughter was born in January 2021 via an emergency c-section. I was 26 at the time and had a straightforward, healthy pregnancy with no complications. I went into my labour on my due date and despite wanting as ‘natural’ a birth as possible, a classic cascade of interventions followed after nearly 40 hours of contractions – syntocinon drip, epidural, CTG, fetal scalp monitoring, two failed vacuum attempts, a balloon to push baby back into my uterus, and ultimately a caesarean. While I had a happy and healthy baby, I came away from the experience feeling like my body had failed me, and the long road to my physical and mental recovery began.  

Before conceiving our second child I’d done my research and set my mind and heart on a homebirth. I didn’t want to navigate the restrictive policies of a VBAC in a hospital setting if I could avoid it. So when I fell pregnant again when my first daughter had just turned 1, I surrounded myself with the best birth team possible to achieve my goal of an HBAC including my amazing private midwife Claire, and Doula Lou. Both helped me to work through the fears that stemmed from my previous birth, and as I approached the end of pregnancy I felt calm and excited.  

Labour began just after 11pm under the light of the partially eclipsed blood moon on a warm November’s night, at 41 weeks on the dot. After an hour of period like cramps coming regularly, I hooked up the TENS machine and lay back in bed listening to the sounds of the ocean which had been a calming anchor throughout pregnancy. By 3am contractions were coming every 3 minutes and I began to vomit through some of the more intense ones. At this stage I began to instinctively make low ‘oooo’ sounds through the peak of the surges, which rose to a crescendo of roaring as labour progressed. I moved into the laundry at this point, perhaps intuitively as it was the furthest room from our sleeping toddler! My husband began to fill the birth pool in our loungeroom and would intermittently check on me and provide lollies and water. I had no desire to move but instead stood straight and still with eyes closed, steadying myself on a small fridge in front of me during the contractions which were intensifying rapidly. After growing pressure my waters broke with a gush on the laundry floor.  

Around 6am Claire, Lou and my second midwife Louise had arrived, and it was time to move into the pool. In retrospect this moment marked transition, as once I was in the pool the contractions spaced out and were dominated primarily by a pushing sensation. I was vaguely aware of my daughter joining us in the loungeroom for breakfast around 6.30, commenting “mumma birth pool”. I was glad she was there for a brief time, before a friend picked her up around 6.50. The room was quiet and calm, punctuated only by the loving words of support from my team.  

I was amazed that my body pushed my baby down without much effort on my behalf, as I tried my best to simply breathe through the surges. Reaching inside I could now feel my baby’s head and her moving down during a couple of contractions. I don’t think it was until she was crowning that I fully believed she was about to come out of my vagina, and I recalled my midwife’s comment that “you don’t know you can do it, until you’ve done it.” Wow crowning was a BIG sensation! Trying my best to be patient during this stage it was a few contractions until her head was born, followed quickly by her body. I pulled her onto my chest and sat back in the birth pool. She was born at 7.06am. 

I was…dumbstruck! I couldn’t believe I’d done it, and while the sensations of labour were intense, I’d never felt like they were particularly painful or bigger than me. I made my way out of the pool and the placenta was born around 15 minutes later while I stood up in a semi squat. I then lay down on our couch and enjoyed the golden hour…really a golden day. The sun was up, my dog lazing on the deck, my husband making cups of tea, and Doula Lou playing with her 5-month-old baby Forrest on the rug while the midwives did their checks and chatted. How utterly normal and delightful! After repairing a couple of small tears and measuring my baby (who shocked me by weighing in at 4.31kg) by 11am everyone packed up, leaving us to rest and get to know our gorgeous baby. 

The array of feelings that coursed through me that day included pure satisfaction, joy, gratitude, excitement, awe, empowerment, pride, and an overwhelming sense of being healed. I’d done it. I’d met my wild woman head on, and I absolutely loved her. Where can I take this feeling next?

Photography: Doula Lou.