Beau Zias' Birth Story

the birth of baby beau zias

The start of my birth story wouldn’t be complete without paying respects to this little guy (pic of Bowie the cat)

We had been fondly anticipating the meeting of our gorgeous cat-son Bowie with our little bubba. I had been dreaming long lazy postpartum days with bubs and he curled up on the sofa, nuzzling away, drunk on oxytocin. I had listened to a podcast recently about a dog playing a crucial role of ‘mid-dog’ during their freebirth, and had (half) joked with Jason about our ‘mid-cat’ and how he may respond to the roars of birth and the pool.

Unfortunately this wasn’t what the stars had aligned. At 41 weeks and 3 days pregnant, we received devastating news that our curious, adventurous lil guy had been run over, a road away from us.

Whilst I had been dancing in limbo land awaiting birth to begin - trusting they would arrive when they were good and ready (I was not going to have an unnecessary induction, no blimming way) …I was also praying for their imminent arrival - feeling ready and excited to meet them and be their mama.

But as soon as we heard the news, the last thing I wanted to do was to give birth that day. The grief was immediate and all consuming and I worried it may impact the birth process in some way. 

At the same time, I knew I just  had to surrender to the reality that it very much could have happened that day, and that I could hold it all.

I could hold life and death and see the majesty in the unfolding of that sequence of events, should it be the case. The agonising truth, as clear as day, and such powerful medicine for the coming days. 

Our dear friend @saara.turiya, who I had booked in for a pregnancy massage that day, came over and held space for my body to process and listened as we shed tears from our tender hearts.

Luckily, we were gifted 3 days to allow ourselves to cry, walk, talk and reminisce about his 5 years of life. He had such a cheeky character, playful and adventurous, with that wise and all-knowing glint in his eyes.

In some ways, perhaps he did play the role of mid-cat from the stars…

…

And so, the first sign of incoming babe arrived on Saturday 2nd October. I woke up and went to the bathroom. Checking my wipe for what felt like the billionth time, there it was - a splodge of pinky tinged mucus. Could this be the start of my bloody show? Eeek!

Another day waiting for babe to arrive, I pondered what to do with my day. I had wanted to try acupuncture as labour prep and NOT as a way to bring on or induce labour as I knew this to be very effective.

I guess labour was on the cards anyway…as I sat in the treatment room that afternoon poked with needles, I noticed some gentle cramping - not unlike period cramps. Hmm… another sign! Though I have read and heard many a birth story that this stage can go on for quite some time, even days, and so even with another sign I was patiently waiting for more to reveal itself.

Jason had some acupuncture straight after me and as I lay in the next room, the cramp-like feelings became more pronounced. I went to the toilet, and more of my mucus plug was coming away.

We walked past a preacher handing out leaflets and a far more than appropriate ‘NO’ was shot his way. Jason felt the wrath and commented on the intensity of my reaction. I had just that second had another cramping feeling, the most intense yet. 

I gave Jason a warning: that the next day or two could (would) get VERY intense and to please hold me in it ALL, do not hush any reaction, no matter how dramatic-seeming. I need to be what I am feeling and express it as is instinctive and necessary.

Though he received regular (ahem, daily😆) pep talks the entire of the pregnancy any time I learned something new, along with @livewildbirthfree Radical Birth prep and @kghypnobirthing courses…this calm before the storm reminder got him into focus!

I noticed that the cramps were surging, lasting maybe 30 to 60 seconds-ish and were averaging out every 20 minutes or so.  I decided to practice the hypnobirthing breaths through them anyway so that I could get into the rhythm and mindset of breathing with and surrendering into every sensation.

Things were still fairly gentle, and I felt like they would be for some time yet. Birth didn’t feel imminent - and to be honest I was relieved that it wasn’t happening a hundred miles an hour like I’d heard it could!
 I wanted to feel and experience everything to do with this process from start to finish.
As we walked home, the advice of @nadiaraafatyogabirth rang in my ears - at the first signs of labour, eat a big meal and get a good night’s sleep if you can!

Anticipating the monumental shift about to take place in our lives drawing ever closer, we began to prepare ourselves, revisiting our vision and how we were dreaming our birth experience to unfold…

…

I come home and try to rest a little, tuning into the mammoth journey ahead of me. I haven’t yet decided whether we’re doing this alone or calling for assistance - the clarity had not yet arrived. Which I thought I was cool with, I knew the moment would come. 

But right at this time, I felt like I had to and it was a problem that I hadn’t yet.

In this place I have a dark, soul reckoning moment that shakes me to the core. I have a panic attack. Birthing breaths out of the window, my heart beating in my throat. I am shaking uncontrollably from head to toe and I cannot stop. I’m crying. I’m worried my baby will feel me experiencing this terror. I’m scared it will impact labour in some way. 

I go to Jason, pale face and dry mouthed. ‘I’m panicking’. He holds me very tightly and we breathe long and slow and deep for a very long time. He then kisses me over and over and over, all over my head and face. He reminds me of my power, strength and capability. He reminds me how ready I am for everything. How much I have been preparing for this moment my whole life.

I cry not in physical, but emotional agony and let the knot of worry untangle and  make room for even more trust and surrender in the process.

The first ring of 🔥

On the other side of this, I decided to make the most of the time before the impending descent into the underworld of full blown labour and attune to the co-creation between me, babe and birth.

I felt called to create a devotional embodiment ritual while I still had the energy and insight to do so. Feeling the magic of the trust that I had cultivated the pregnancy unfold and embrace me through this intuitive urge.

I popped on an ecstatic dance wild woman playlist that had been shared in a sister’s group earlier on that day.

Birthing candle lit, a cup of cacao brewed and off I danced my ripe and ready body in full appreciation of this journey of pregnancy that had forever changed  and transformed me. 

Ceremonially dancing with my maiden self in simultaneous grief and joy and tears falling in recognition of the threshold I was crossing in that very moment.

And for what felt like the tenth ‘this could be the last meal before I go into labour, let’s make it a special one’, we ordered my favourite vietnamese takeaway. Little did I know it’d be the last full meal I could stomach (including water 😮) for over 24 hours!

We watched a shit film that I wouldn’t wish on anyone to watch in early labour (crass portrayal of period sex and pregnancy loss), with me between the  sofa (where I could not get comfy for the life of me), eating mouthfuls of tofu curry clay pot, to bouncing on and hugging the birth ball on all fours... as bubs bobbed his sweet little head against my ripening cervix.

Jason attempted to keep track of the timings and space between each surge. By the third time I snapped at him to stop. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to be on the timer. I didn’t want to apply any ‘logic’ to this process in the slightest… it was taking my brain to places I didn’t want to be. I told him to keep it to himself if he wanted!

It was my job to stay deep in the process of listening to my body.

And so, I attempted to get some rest that night...

…

‘At the first sign of labour, get a good night’s sleep’ she (@nadiaraafatyogabirth) said!

Picture this: 
I go to bed, get a surge strong enough to wake me up,  I breathe  through it, try to drop off to sleep again and repeat repeat repeat what feels like every 15 minutes until the morning 🤪

Following Nadia’s cues from our birth rehearsal, I was up on all fours on the bed with each one. Feeling each of them fully. And then trying my god darn hardest to get a bit of shut eye before…ohhhh here we go again. Halfway through the night, I began sitting on the side of the bed, pushing into the wall to manage the intensity.

Cue waking up feeling a bit whack, not very well rested, and wondering if my attempt to rest has actually slowed down  the progress of labour?! Who knows?!

I go and have a bath and listen to an hour long hypnobirthing recording intended for use during labour (@emmakennytv YouTube). Writhing from side to side in the tub, the water offered some temporary relief. 

After, I try to get some more rest as I am pretty exhausted from the night before. 

At this point I had STILL not decided whether I was going to freebirth with just me and Jason, the Homebirth team we were with, or call @_laura_hart_swann_ my beautiful birthworker friend .

I had kept all options open: educating myself and excavating fears as comprehensively as possible during pregnancy to manage birth intuitively,  independently and outside of the grossly pathologised birth that we all know too well.

I had attended most NHS antenatal appointments, however I had declined GD tests, the final growth scan, they knew not to mention sweeps, VEs or induction til at least 42 weeks (and even then I was ready  to continue saying NOPE as much as I needed to). They  were armed with a comprehensive, entirely hands off, birth plan (for which I had signed to waive liability 🙄)

To be honest, it’s ridiculous that the things on my birth plan are not standard and come up against hospital policy…to preserve naturally unfolding, hormonal matrix of physiological birth at all costs.

They were also aware that we may not even call them from the very beginning. I was not going to jump through a legislative loop for anyone, unless my instinct strongly guided me to. We all have this right to do so, you know?

We’d often had open and nuanced conversations on physiological, un-intervened birth and they were very much on the same page (as much as their professions will allow them to say so). I know that sadly the same cannot be said for many within the institutions of birth across the country / rest of the  world.

And to be brutally honest you can have all the open conversation you like, but if interacting with ‘the system’, there’s not much that can shake of the fear or possibility that after all of this, some misinformed jobsworth could still report you to social services for doing something as natural as the air we breathe.
Whoops, that turned into a rant didn’t it?!

…

Another option was to call @_laura_hart_swann_ (or @birthmagical in the event she couldn't make it) - who was on call to be potentially called for the birth, should that be something aligned for both of us when the moment arose.

Well versed in the liminal, inbetween worlds, we spoke a lot about whether she was there or not, it would be exactly what needed to happen. I had to be really ready to trust that I could birth on my own with Jason as my support.

Having walked the path of the feminine mysteries and womb awakening for some time I know how integral it is to have a wise woman, a woman who has seen and known the path ahead, to literally and figuratively hold our hands as we cross the threshold.

Working with Laura, she has this innate ability to send you back along the path you frolicked upon earnestly in search the more wisdom and knowledge you thought you needed. She reminds you that you already have those exact keys within. One by one, she’ll reveal each key to you, placing each back in your hand, clasping your fingers back over the handful, and slowly pushing and poking you back along your path to continue walking. Leaving you spluttering and gulping, slightly bereft and bewildered, but also with a stronger sense of your sovereign self.

What I mean is: she doesn’t believe for one jot of a second that you don’t have the capacity to do what your heart desires, what your soul is guiding you to do and what your body is truly capable of. She simply won’t have it! Yes, it’s annoying as hell, but it’s the energy that makes her work so necessary and impactful, especially in the field of birth.

She is embodied in her magic as a priestess, mother, a wayshower, storyteller and all round ethereal being, deeply aligned with the essence of birth. From the moment I had met Laura (at the first of two Conscious Conception ceremonies I attended with her) I had wanted her to be at the birth.

I noticed at some point that I had been carrying the belief that by having someone else at my birth meant that it wouldn’t be ‘free’... a belief that had a number of faces to it…that I would continue to unpick and alchemise in between waves.

I realised that this didn’t have to be true. I wanted Laura to be there for what she stands for. I wanted Laura there to remind me of my vision, power and trust in myself should I falter / to be witnessed in my power and trust.

So, about midday on the Sunday, I sent a text to Laura to let her know I may well want her at the birth. I turn my phone on airplane mode as that text and looking at the time on my phone was too much for me.
Should I tell anyone I was well in the throes of labour, and light the candles I had given them, I wondered? No… I don’t want anyone checking up on me at all (soz close friends and family members 🙊).
Jason took care of arrangements with Laura once it became clear to me I did want her wise woman presence beside us.

She made her way over after having miraculously been called to another freebirth that afternoon, driven by a cab driver that also turned out to be a birthworker 😮

Back to the labour in the next bit, I promise. You're getting a real time style flow of events here, thank you for reading 🥰this far!

o, back to the story… I spent the day in the living room rolling around on the birth ball with my eye mask on, listening to my birth playlist, tracing the labyrinth with my finger, hugging Jason and swaying side to side. When it was time for Jason to fill the pool, I spent some time in the bedroom in my own space.

When it was filled, we prepared a ‘land station’ - a yoga mat, cushions and blankets on the floor so I could lay and rest when I felt to.I spent a long time breathing between the ground and rocking to and fro over the ball in this place.

I then decided to get in the pool to change things up a bit, which helped with easing the sensations. The warmth of the water was soothing and hydrating.

By this time the waves were becoming increasingly all-consuming and closer together so the rest in between was imperative. I would let each one take me as I floated my body up, allowing my body to relax from the tremble and slowly release.

The time spent in the pool is a blur to be honest… in no particular order - Jason was trickling water down my back with the abalone shell, massaging my back, shoulders and breasts. Offering me sips of water, holding my hands through each surge, and offering the occasional word of encouragement.

Not much was said between either of us the whole day as we stepped deeper into the unknown and closer to our babe.

I remember a lot of peace, a lot of spaciousness. No real memory of pain, just intense sensations. It was mostly ambient, peaceful.

Time felt as though it was passing slowly. I noticed as the room changed from daylight to evening. I was trying to stay focused on staying in my centre and was careful to divert any thoughts about how long things were taking when it came to the realisation I had been in some form of labour for around 24 hours now.

I checked in with my instinct. It didn’t feel too long. It felt just right. But the thought was a niggling one.

I remember the wise words of @jillianmolloy_ (who I was on @livewildbirthfree Radical Birth course with) on alchemising fears during her birth ‘ it’s about being forged by the fires no matter what the specific fears are’.

And so I forge the ‘time’ fear on the fire: placing this as my focus during the next surge, riding the fullness of these thoughts out through my body.
This will take as long as it takes, I told myself. I trust myself, I trust baby is choosing their time of arrival.
As I recall the memories of the day, it dawns on me how little was said, how each moment was accepted as it was, nothing was pushed, there was no fear, panic, worry, concern or disbelief in myself or my baby to ride out this process as nature intended.

Yes, there were fears to forge on the fires, but that was to be expected.

There was something so very normal and everyday to this highly anticipated, miraculous event.
How I wish for so many more of us to experience this, true childbirth.

It is our birth right to be born and to be birthed in these ways.

‘Deep in it’ I manage to muster when @_laura_hart_swann_ asks how it’s going as she arrives at our home. I was out of the pool again after a few hours of being in it. On the floor, over the ball. 

I had dropped into the deep, trippy, lucid in-between worlds of the birthing portal. The place of the primal, animal brain. I remember thoughts taking a long time to come to fruition. I’d begin thinking about something I’d want to say and it would take me a few surges to build up the energy and mental clarity to actually voice it.

Words became used only for essential purposes - water, no, yes, hand, come here (and stop fiddling with the camera, Jason😂😅), next song (the playlist was getting repetitive🥱).

Such a potent yet highly vulnerable space. I can’t imagine advocating for my choices and needs in this place, having people around me I don’t trust, or being in an environment far from home.

Laura sat with us for a while, observing and witnessing me and Jason in our sacred birth dance. He had been clasped to my side for hours, holding my hips, pressing into my sacrum, holding my hands.

At some point, she recommends he takes a break to recuperate and Laura’s hands are with me, rocking me with the rebozo, reassuring holds on my arms, head, neck. She held my shoulders and poured golden, timeless birth wisdom into my ear, reminding me of the epic threshold I was crossing.

I missed being naked embraced by the warmth of the pool, so get in there again an hour or so later. Laura strokes my hair, pours water from the abalone shell and watches me as I allow my body to wiggle and wave on the water (like a mermaid she recalls🧜‍♀️)

Things were ramping up, the surges getting closer together, longer and more intense. Sometimes there would be a break, sometimes the next one would come on thick and fast with barely any time to rest as I had been before. Shit was getting really real.

I sound out the surges with huge ‘aaahhhs’ and ‘ooohs’, knowing how effective this is in supporting the pelvic muscles to relax and release.

Though I was becoming overwhelmed by the intensity, writhing and becoming entwined in the discomfort.

I was coping with breath, movement and water… but I did then wonder (in the pockets of space between surges) whether a teeny bit of pain relief might help. I tuned into what it would be like to call the midwives just for the gas and air - the reality felt too noisy and clunky. What if they asked for a vaginal exam or to monitor me? What if they felt I needed to transfer? 

Nope. I didn’t feel like making ANY compromises on the peacefulness of the situation. So, that was not an option any longer. Right, so I've now fully decided were going to freebirth.

Finally, I ask Laura - would the TENS machine make a difference now? Hindsight, stupid question. I was in the pool. That would require me to get out and dry off completely. Way too much effort for what I could manage!
‘Unlikely’ she responds. I kind of knew the answer already. I know now my request meant ‘I’m struggling a bit, can anything help me?’ She proceeded to remind me of the tools I had at my disposal. And brings to light some things that I hadn’t realised…

…

‘Drop your voice to your vagina, your root, your womb. It’s in your head’.

Fuck, I thought I had been sounding from my pelvis. In that moment, I noticed that I had been resisting going even deeper. Had things been so slow and undulating because I was not dropping deep enough? What fears am I STILL holding on to?

I had come up against a swamp of mental chatter, some pretty hefty limiting beliefs rearing their head. It was obviously clear on my face I had become consumed by them.

And so came the bellowing roars. I am sure they were heard beyond our four walls and someway down the street. Animalistic, gutteral, primal, I roar the entirety of the surge and gosh they felt fucking powerful.

‘Speak to the baby’, Laura says later on. ‘Remember you are working together, listen in, see what they need, how can you do this together?’

I realised that I had been so immersed in my own experience I had almost forgotten that there was a dance between me and babe here, that I was here to collect him from the stars and bring him earthside.

I felt a twang of guilt, but knew this is exactly where my focus needs to orient as we go in and through another ring of fire and deeper through the portal.

‘Hey baby, I’ve got you… mama’s here. Thank you for all of your hard work, I can’t wait to meet you oh so soon. I love you’. I speak to him like this for a long time through the ongoing surges.

I remember feeling rooted back into my power and strength and realising:

I really am going to do this thing. We are doing this thing. 

Little did I know, he was almost here…

…

At some point, I fancied another change and got out of the pool. I decided to try a squat with the rebozo over Jason’s shoulders.

A huge (what I think is a) surge came and the release was so deep I slid all the way down the scarf and stayed there, melting into a heap on the floor.

I stayed on the floor on all fours for quite a while, my body taken over by these involuntary movements. 

These‘surges’ felt as though they were gutteral and more forceful, like no longer contracting per se, but pushing down and out.

Jason later told me he had thought things had slowed down and had thought we were still very far away from meeting our babe.

I suspect Laura may have had her knowings, but was letting the mystery unfold in it’s own unique way.

I now realise that the fetal ejection reflex was at play. I had no urge or thought to push at all. My body had taken over fully.

Now, we’re all friends here, and I’m all up in your face about yonis and wombs at the best of times.

I’m not one to give a TMI warning, but if you’re eating a tasty meal right now and want to retain your appetite, here you go.

I stood up and felt something round protruding from between my bum cheeks. I thought it could be a poo.

Alas, it was the birth of a beautiful baby hemorrhoid 🤪🙊😜🤣

Either way, the thought inspired me to waddle slowly and surely to the bathroom. I must have instinctively felt this would release the pressure. I needed to change things up anyway.

On the toilet seat I found comfort sitting with my legs wide, my hands on the sink to the left of me, rocking back and forth. I made sure to pop a towel underneath me, you know, just in case.

Laura was waiting outside the bathroom. I heard Jason clanging about putting some oven chips on, resigned to the long haul, or so he thought.

I was left to it. In a dark, undisturbed corner like a feline. A woman consumed by her🔥

At some point, I popped my hand on my vulva to see how it felt at this stage, out of curiosity. It felt huge and puffy. I noticed a hard bit.

‘Interesting’, I thought ‘ perhaps my skin is so taut from where it’s being stretched right now?’

A tremendous charge moves through me...

Another gutteral bellow that seemed to last minutes moves through me. I put my hand to the same place again, the hard bit had got bigger and wider. And then it dawned on me. This wasn't my vulva 😮

‘Oh my gosh I think I can feel the head!’ I call out. They come rushing in.

Ever the clean freak, Jason’s eyes fill with ‘do not let my newborn child be born into the toilet bowl’. Laura reassures him quietly there is the canopy of the towel.

I stand up, we all bring our hands in between my legs. @_laura_hart_swann_ begins to sing ‘Belle mama, belle mama, belle mama ay’, a song sung to me at my mama blessing. Tingles rush through me.

We both join in…me wavering somewhere mid song and mid roar, I feel like I am being stretched open… and Beau pops his gorgeous little wet head out. 

‘Oh my fricken gosh, he’s kind of here!’ I think. I cannot recall in any clarity this moment of total inbetween-ness as his head hangs between my legs. What the actual?! Jason recalls touching his warm, slimy head and is overwhelmed with emotion, also not quite sure what to say or do.

In what feels like forever, or was a couple of seconds or minutes, I wait for my body to do the final ejection, he turns, and whoosh we all bring his slippery lil self into mine and Jason's hands and arms. Laura unfurls the cord from his neck before we can even notice that it’s there. 

Our son, born standing over the toilet on Monday 4th October 2021 at 2.50am (guestimate once we returned to the living room half hour later). Our surprise baby boy, though we both immediately knew, just by looking at him.  

💖 Welcome to the world, Beau Zias 💖

We are in love. In awe of this glorious, fragile, magnificent being that has blessed our lives. 

My heart exploding open, my body now empty of babe after 9.5 months, my mind blown at what had just happened…and we were trembling and kind of all over the place.

You see and hear of these moments of euphoric bliss and joy when people meet their babies. Well, there was that, but there was a complexity of co-existing emotions and sensations.

We were both jelly. I noticed I didn’t recognise him, like I had thought I’d have this ‘oh, it’s you, we’ve met before’ feeling. But instead I thought ‘oh, you’re a brand new person, of course I’ve never met you, hello my love!’ A little awkward perhaps, how do I speak to this little thing? What does he need? Fuck, I’m actually another human’s mum!

As he slowly uncurled from his womb and birth canal shape… I noticed a distinct feeling of relief that he had made it. That is the total uncertainty of birth. A harrowing truth I am sure I am not alone with....the worry that arrives as soon as the news of pregnancy does, the constant prayer that babe will arrive, and be healthy and well.

It may have also been my instinct - bubs was slow to take his first breaths and when he did they were shallow and raspy, meaning he was struggling to cough up excess fluid, have his first full cry or be able to latch. I was full of joy and wonder, along with relief, exhaustion, worry and overwhelm.

We had a tender and somewhat fraught golden hour, skin to skin, back rubs, waiting for the cries and coughs, closely observing the situation. We were both treated with a concoction of herbal and vibrational remedies by Laura to treat the shock to our nervous systems along with tea and toast.

I waited some time to birth the placenta naturally before calling the midwives, which came along like another huge surge and plop into a bowl within the hour. We notice the amniotic sac (which didn't noticebly burst) is tinged brown, indicating meconium in the waters.

The midwife arrives and responds with total calm, carrying out our checks at home before gently advising a transfer to check up on babe and support him to clear his lungs. 

He is stable after one night in NICU, yet we stayed in hospital for a further 6 days while on antibiotics to clear up any possible infection. 

Though I am going to save this challenging tale for another day.

Thank you dearly for opening your heart to our birth story. I truly wish my story may have inspired you to claim your sovereign, wild birthing experience as nature intends 🙏