The first heatwave has just passed, and I am getting up from the sofa at home to go to bed. At that exact moment, my phone lights up; your mom is calling me. She says she isn’t quite sure, but you might be on your way. She tries a warm shower and notices that your surges are staying. To better focus on you and your birth process, she organizes “Grandma’s hotel” for your big sister and gets back to me afterwards.
I set off in the night to your beautiful house by the lake, and when I arrive, your mom is already having regular and frequent surges. Soon, a beautiful atmosphere fills your living room. Quiet and romantic, eventually illuminated by the dawn. A rooster crows to welcome the day and the flies wake up. Your dad does a great job with his mission and the fly swatter. Your birth becomes more intense; cool washcloths and the “scented cloth” help your mom. I call your second midwife, Charlotte, assuming that you would arrive as soon as your water breaks.
I feel your amniotic sac in front of your head; it is thick and strong. Despite movement, stretching, and gentle pushing, it does not open. Your mom swallows hard when I recommend going to the hospital.
She wanted a home birth for you so very much. But the birth is not progressing, and so we now make our way. During the drive, your surges remain strong and regular. The journey is difficult for your mom; the seat is uncomfortable, and your mom breathes through your contractions with a kind of yodel—it sounds surprisingly good!
Once at the hospital, you are looked at via ultrasound and your heart rate is checked. You are positioned well and you still seem quite lively. So your hospital midwife breaks your water, and your mom is relieved. Finally, nothing is holding you back! With great strength, she pushes you through her pelvis and you come into the world. You are placed directly onto mom’s chest and turn a healthy pink.
Welcome to this world, little citizen of the earth.