A Water Birth
Calm and graceful, you sink into your body’s contractions,Accepting their growing strength and frequency.
Knowing the baby will come,
Trusting your body,
Trusting your baby.
The lights are low.
The pool water is warm.
The small hours of the night pass as you labour.
Outside, the cold fog hugs the ground.
Inside, you move and are still with your body’s efforts.
Your man beside you, hating your pain but admiring your determination.
Then, little catches in your breath at the end of contractions, almost grunts.
The midwives exchange glances and smile at one another.
Reassuring words for you and for your man.
“All is well. This is as it should be. Trust your body.”
You lean back and crinkle up your face as you push.
The midwives move around, preparing quietly for the imminent birth.
The baby’s heart is a steady rhythm.
The bag of waters start to emerge.
You say little as the baby takes up so much space inside you.
No-one touches you or tells you how to do this.
Gently, quietly, you push your baby’s head out.
Your man is amazed. He cannot believe how fast this has happened.
The midwives wait, as the head turns slightly.
You push again and out comes your child into the warm water.
The midwife helps him into your loving arms.
The baby cries firmly, but, held close to your heart, soon stops.
He breathes gently, becoming pink.
Your man comes close to hug you and kiss the baby.
The midwives step back to admire the new family.
His father announces the baby’s sex with great pride.
A little later, you climb serenely out of the pool.
Resting on a nearby bed, you offer your new son your warm breast.
He feeds readily and eagerly.
The midwives withdraw to give you three space to be together.
Dawn breaks as spring birds sing.
