At first I thought I was going to die.......then I got scared that I wouldn't.

This was how I described my first birth.

I have been doing some birth processing lately and one of the things that has struck my over the last few years is that sometimes we are not entirely honest with ourselves (or those around us) when it comes to talking about birth. I think, personally, I do this in an attempt to counteract the intense negative image of birth as it is portrayed in the media and general mainstream. As a result, some women can go into birth with a warped view and come out the other end feeling like a failure because they didn't achieve a pain free birth or an orgasmic birth.

I also get a bit pissed when people imply that I birth easily. Not. True.

When I think back on my birthing 'career' I am taken through such a journey of emotion. I was naive with my first baby (aren't we all?) and went into the entire process with huge trust for 'the experts'. 'They' would keep my baby safe, 'they' would keep me safe. I was not prepared for the intensity that was birth and it was only my stubbornness (and not knowing what was to come) that enable the drug free birth that it was. By the time I couldn't cope anymore, it was too late.

If I had to describe my daughters birth in just a few words they would be fear, horror, helplessness and pain. My heart still starts to beat faster and my stomach drops when I think of her birth. It really was that (at first) I was thinking I was dying - and that made me fear full. Then it got to the point that what I was going through was actually worse than death and I became scared that I wasn't going to die.

It was these emotions that I carried over into my second birth. I hadn't worked on any of the trauma I had sustained, hadn't explored any of the emotions and every time I thought of birthing while pregnant with my second child my brain would shut down. I just couldn't go there. I had share-care with a GP because visiting the hospital made me feel....weird. I couldn't have described it then but I now know that I was suffering from (mild) PTSD and what I was experiencing was flashbacks and emotional breaks.

I was proud of myself for giving birth naturally but didn't feel the need to do it again. On both my birth plans I had put that my preferred pain management was an epidural. Not gas, not pethidine. People wondered at the choice, it was made because I had been told in the ante-natal class that the epidural was the only thing that didn't cross the placenta. Any and all side effects would be to the mother. In my mind it was a sacrifice.

I laboured with J in a dark movie theatre. I was so fine, it was intense but felt like the good kind of hard work. You know, where you are really exerting yourself but feel really productive. As soon as I set foot in the hospital the pain started. And the panic attacks. Then I was told that the anesthetist's was going home and if I thought I would want pain relief at all now would be the time.

I was terrified. I curled up in the position required and sobbed through the procedure. At the time I felt like a complete failure, like I had screw my baby over and that I had lost all control. I had sold out. What followed confirmed every thought I had during that procedure. My baby was hurt, I was ignored and we both suffered terribly. And it was all my fault.

After the birth was a blur of trying to cope, trying to block out what had happened and feeling like an idiot because everyone was saying how fine everything was. I felt like Jake was going to die (I am looking back with a lot more clarity and so can put the feelings I was having then into words now) and felt paranoid and detached. It wasn't until he was one year old that my life changed. That is a story for another day but suffice to say I walked away from a gathering of women a completely different person.

It was at this meeting that I met two women (both of whom still influence my life in a big way today - one does it online for lots of people now!), one who had home-birthed her eight children and the other who was planning her first homebirth after a traumatic hospital birth. I asked her whether it was legal to birth at home in Australia :D

Within a year of that conversation I found myself pregnant with my third child. I found myself having to walk my talk. It was a pregnancy of processing, working through unsubstantiated fears and family mythology. Looking at all the evidence and having my world turned upside down. Changing my entire mind set around birth and pain and labour. It was full on. Pushing Tiana out and all the sensations that went along with it were so far in the past that I couldn't quite recall all the fuzzy details - not that I tried hard. I had not experienced the pain of childbirth for 4 and a half years.

I freebirthed Aron just 18 months after that conversation. Talk about quick learner :D

I found myself in the bath the other day, in the very spot that Aron had been born and the emotion that hit me was huge. His birth is still very fresh in my head and the thought of having to push another babe out my vagina makes me feel a little sick. This was a huge consideration for me when planning a fourth child.

Many people think I birth my babes at home because I birth easily, or because it isn't the same for me as it is for them. This really upsets me because the fact of the matter is that I don't really like labouring or giving birth. It terrifies me, it hurts me, it makes me just as small and out of control as everyone else.

So why do it this way? Because as much as it hurts to push a babe out, as scary as it all can be sometimes, the thought of handing myself and my baby over to someone else in an unfamiliar environment with scary, damaging temptations (ever heard of Just Say No campaign? I'm trying to get one started for birth as well), is so much worse. Staying in my own environment ensures that me and my baby get everything we deserve - respect, endorphins, love and true compassion.

Compare the title of this post (and my description of feelings from my first two births) to the last paragraph of Aron's birth story and why I do all this will become crystal clear:

The power and the pride I felt following this birth has never left me. It shines through every aspect of my life, even now. There are not many times when a woman can stand up and unashamedly shout from the roof tops “I am powerful, I am beautiful, I am a WOMAN”. That is the power of an unhindered birth.