Surprise
I had planned a serene birth, but it didn’t all go to plan…
Charlotte Symonds, 41, from Keighley
Unpacking the last of the boxes, I put a hand on my aching back and let out a huge sigh.
At last, everything was in its place.
We’d moved into our new home and life felt really good.
My partner Joe, 38, and I were expecting our Firstbaby together.
I already had a son, Freddie, now 10, who lived with us, and Joe had a daughter and son aged 10 and seven who came every other weekend to visit.
We hadn’t planned on extending our family, but during lockdown and weekends together there hadn’t been a lot to do…now I was expecting!
As the pregnancy progressed, I bought clothes, toys and things for the nursery.
But the news reports on the TV worried me massively.
Dads are now banned from birthing suites...
Covid rules mean mums give birth alone...
The headlines were horrible. I didn’t want to give birth alone in a cold, sterile room with Joe waiting in the car park. I wanted him with me.
‘Maybe we should do a home birth?’ I suggested.
‘What?’ Joe said. ‘Is it safe?’ I explained I’d already had one son who had flownout quickly with no complications.
‘I’m sure the second time it’s easier,’ I uttered. ‘At least we’ll be together.’
After some convincing, Joe agreed – we didn’t want to be separated due to Covid rules.
I wanted Joe to be there for the birth
So, the next time I saw my midwife, I opted for a home birth. The weeks flew by and my stomach grew. Ascan showed we were expecting a baby girl.
‘When the time comes, you’ll be allocated two local midwives,’ a midwife told me one day. ‘They’ll come to you, and you do the rest!’
We started preparing. We were told to get a shower curtain for the bed and another for the 昀氀oorto protect it from blood and bodily fluids.
We got everything all ready and it was a case of waiting for the baby to finally arrive.
Yet my due date came and went, but our baby still hadn’t arrived.
Then one evening, Joe and I were cooking vegan sausage sandwiches when I felt a sudden twinge.
It hurt, but they weren’t as bad as true labour pains.
‘I’ll have a bath,’ I suggested. I soaked in bubbles and touched my bump. I didn’t feel pain. But after the bath, the pains were stronger and much closer together, too. I knew this feeling. They were contractions. ‘Joe, the baby’s coming,’ I said through the pain.
‘What – now?’ he said.
‘Now!’ I said.
He grabbed the midwife’s number from my birthing notes and called it.
She said she was in another part of town, almost an hour away,
