A Tasmanian Birth Story
By Jotara Worland, Community Midwife and Doula

T'was a rainy night in the Meander valley, at around 9pm I was called to attend a local woman named Jo, who was birthing her third baby at home.

Jo's midwife, Jenny had asked me to document the birth as it happened, including details such as what members of the family said and other happenings that set the scene. This account was to portray the birth as a family event.

As I drove through the dark, wet and winding country roads my consciousness drifted toward the baby, tonight we were both navigating twists and turns in the dark. 

Before too long, I arrived at a warmly lit house. A kitten was mewing insistently on the veranda and no sign of the inhabitants at windows or doors, despite the late hour. This must be it! I knocked in announcement and opened the front door to be met with a hallway with four doors leading from it. The way was clear, the sounds of Jo labouring led me toward the 'loudest' door…

Inside, my senses were engulfed. The most prominent being the sight of a large white pair of sensible knickers, housing the midwife's bottom! Jenny was in the pool, pink faced from the warmth in the room, a hand on Jo's lower back. Jo was kneeling in the water and leaning against the flexible side of a children's paddling pool (so roomy, great for birthing!)

I made eye contact with each person in the room, one boy child, Jo's husband and her mother were present. I said a few hello's and settled into a chair to observe.

I realized that the birth was imminent. The energy in the room felt thick, the young boy was growing more and more excited. He was quite literally jumping up and down at the poolside, from time to time kissing his mother on the cheek in congruence with her groans of effort. "Thank you darling" Jo said; all hearts in the room appeared to melt. "Our baby is nearly here" he said excitedly.

As if to respond in the affirmative, the baby's black shiny head edged slowly into view through the elegant elliptical oval of Jo's vagina. 

The cat mewed louder than before, Jo's husband reached for the camera and a second, younger boy appeared in his pyjamas, rubbing his eyes. He nestled into his grandmother's lap. Within seconds, curiosity drew him in close to the pool side. Jo's mother sat within eyeshot of her daughter, her grey hair elegantly tied back. We glanced at each other then, her eyes stung with tears and a grin a mile wide.

The water went "slap, slop" against the edge of the pool, as mother and midwife moved. "Ahhhh…. stretching" says Jo. Jenny readies her hands, the children lean over to look craning their necks to get closer. Dad gets the camera ready, grandmother's tears are falling steadily now. The sounds Jo makes are primal and mirror the slow steady, graceful advancement of this baby's shiny black head.

As she cries out once more, the baby's head is born, quickly followed by her body. Everyone breathes audibly, shoulders fall down a notch or two, smiles burst forth, faces beam all around the room. Release, relief, joy. The air is filled with the unique responses of each person present, there is laughter, "oh's", "oh baby", "hello", "there she is… oh look, look at her beautiful black hair". I am surrounded by an exquisite symphony or love, each instrument playing it's own tune.

Around about thirty seconds later, the youngest boy tells us how to catch a baby. "Well you just put your hands like this (makes a cupping shape with both hands), and the baby just falls in there"… Laughter ripples around the room. This little boy has received a gift, witnessing the ease of his sister's birth and the calm, loving way in which she was greeted.

"It wasn't so bad after all that carry on", says Jo. She proudly announces "this is Penelope as she clutches her daughter close to her breasts, love and pride seem to ooze out of her pores, "this is my first 'un-interfered-with' birth, and it was at home!" she says with triumph.

Not long afterwards, Penelope's grandfather arrives to meet her. Sitting on the sofa, holding his new granddaughter he says "history was made today, my brother was born in this house 70 years ago".