Please note: this contains details of a previous loss...

The story of what went on before my pregnancy with you is as much a part of your birth story as the actual retelling of the night you came to be in my arms, and so I need to take you back 12 months.

In October 2009 I discovered I was pregnant for the third time. Your dad and I had always wanted three children and it looked like we were on our way to peppering our family with what Dean Martin sang about as “three little kids for the flavour”. I did all the usual things – started taking supplements, stopped drinking alcohol, made a booking for the birth centre where your brother Oliver was born, and bought a beautifully bound notebook to start recording my pregnancy and your childhood. But somehow I didn't feel like it was real. I never actually wrote in the notebook, even though when pregnant with Flynn and Oliver I had done so from the moment I had a positive pregnancy test. I remember spending an evening at a cafe with my friend Lara and telling her how I just didn't feel like I was actually pregnant.

It turns out I wasn't. In late December 2009 and 11 weeks along, I started bleeding and discovered I had a “blighted ovum” pregnancy – one where the egg never carries the necessities for life, but the body acts as if were carrying an embryo. Initially, I was more upset about having just told my work colleagues the day before the drama unfolded that I was pregnant. Plus my mother had announced it to all and sundry – everyone knew we had jumped the gun. But after the D&C procedure to remove the pregnancy, which took place on 17 December 2009, I was devastated. Not so much for the baby-that-wasn't, because I felt I couldn't mourn what had never even shown the promise of life, but for the wasted time. We so wanted a third child to complete our family. Already we had strayed from our initial plan of having three children in three years (a crazy one in hindsight!) due to my having changed, lost and changed jobs again in the space of a year, but now I had just spent 3 months being “pregnant” for nothing. I took solace in the fact that I had your brothers and that my body had just shown me how good it was at growing babies (even ones that were imaginary), but the hormonal upheaval of a miscarriage was terrible. I now have a small inkling of how it feels to be pregnant one day only to return home the next with no baby in your belly or children to love.

After the procedure, I decided to throw myself into enjoying Christmas with your brothers, and you will see from the photos of that year that we spent the week before the big day visiting the Crown Christmas lights, making cookies and preparing a huge feast. Sad as I was, I refused to let the setback prevent our family from enjoying our time together. And as we received no advice to wait before trying to become pregnant again, we didn't. By the end of January I again held a positive pregnancy test in my hands.

Again I didn't believe it, and this time I felt I had proof that this pregnancy could just be a mirage. After all, the last one had been. But again I went through the preparatory motions, and signed up for the Sunshine Hospital's home birth pilot program. But early bleeding scared me even more, though in hindsight the fact that I hadn't even had a cycle between the D&C procedure and becoming pregnant made the bleeding quite likely. I had scans at 6 weeks, 8 weeks and 12 weeks – each time all was well, but I was still sceptical. I waited as long as I could to tell anyone but close friends (including my mother) that we were expecting. And again I didn't record my pregnancy in the notebook I had bought so many months before.

It wasn't until I was 21 weeks pregnant that I allowed myself to feel any love for you, so scared was I of facing another loss. And even then, my mind was plagued with fears – what if I was choosing a home birth for the wrong reasons and things turned out badly; what if my baby was stillborn; what if the cord was too short and strangled my baby; what if he or she carried a birth defect or disorder that meant death within months of birth?

A good friend of mine talked a great deal of sense into me and after about 25 weeks I started feeling a little more secure about your pregnancy and impending birth. And I reflected on the fact that this pregnancy, aside from a few early worries, had been as trouble-free as my pregnancies with your brothers. No morning sickness, no high blood pressure, no gestational diabetes, no excessive weight gain and no other obvious problems. All good, all on track.

My midwife, Melinda, was lovely and did much to put my mind further at ease. Because she was my main care-giver during my pregnancy, I came to realise how important continuity of care was. I trusted Melinda and knew that I could birth with confidence with her support. Her partner, Karina, was equally steadfast, and Melinda made sure I met Lorraine and Sue, two other midwives with the Hospital, so that I had familiar faces around me during your birth. I also had Jamie, a student midwife, following my pregnancy. Jamie had never attended a birth before, and I was so looking forward to being able to share what I hoped would be a natural, lovely, homebirth with her.

And of course your father was my rock during my pregnancy – always optimistic, realistic and pragmatic. And so totally comfortable with the safety of birth at home.

So I was all set, ready for your arrival. Sure, we didn't get your clothes organised until week 37 and I forgot all about nappies until week 38, but we were so relaxed about your arrival there was no mad frenzy of nesting and preparing in the way there was with your brothers. Still, I couldn't wait to meet you. I was hoping you would come on the 23rd of September, which was the night of a full moon, but that date came and went. Then my waters started leaking at the 38 week mark, but that resolved itself overnight. I was so disappointed when it did, though – I had convinced myself that I would have a baby within days.

Rather than dwell on my situation, I threw myself into enjoying the last few weeks of pregnancy. Pregnancy photo shoots, picnics on the back lawn and a trip to the Royal Melbourne Show with your brothers filled my time. The day I was 39 weeks I had a few contractions in the morning and spent the day preparing a dinner party for close friends (which turned out to be a lovely evening). I was full of energy and excited by the prospect of completing our family.

On Thursday 30th September, I woke with mild contractions 15 minutes apart. Melinda, my midwife, was visiting that day and I had a feeling this would be it, so we sent your brothers to my mum's for the day. But contractions eased off by mid morning and I wondered whether I was going to have another false start like I had yesterday. Still, it was nice to have the boys out of the house and have some peace and quiet. Your dad and I got takeaway for dinner and spent the evening watching the 1981 version of “Clash of the Titans” - a much better pre-birth movie than “The Proposition”, which we saw the night before Flynn's labour started! Things were becoming stronger and more constant by about 8pm so we warned Melinda and Jamie to be on standby. The contractions got stronger as the night wore on but never regularised, so at 9.30 we sent out the call – the real thing was coming.

Melinda, her partner Lorraine and Jamie all arrived by 10.30pm. Your dad had set up the birth pool in the dining room and like a true engineer had a great system set up for filling and emptying it – no buckets of hot water for us! Our hot water service was a tad undersized for the job but we had a nice, deep, hot bath for me to wallow in by about 11pm.

I am never good at remembering the exact details of my births, but I do recall that the contractions hurt but were greatly relieved by being in the water. The pool was just marvellous! The contractions were also much more intense than during your brothers' births – Melinda said this was common with third and subsequent babies especially. They were so strong, in fact, that the adrenaline caused me to throw up twice. At those moments I felt horrendous, but they were quickly followed by calm relaxation in the bath, and I spent a lot of your labour chatting to your dad and the midwives. Melinda and Lorraine were great – always supportive, the only things they did during our labour was to intermittently take my blood pressure (which remained wonderfully constant) and listened to your heart beat (which was beautiful and regular). I could feel your head throughout the labour, nestled like a little nut deep inside me.

I spent almost all of my time in the water but got out at about 1pm to sit on the loo – I was starting to tire so Melinda suggested that the pull of gravity might help things along. She was right – after two contractions I retreated to the mattress next to the pool and experienced the strongest contractions I have ever felt. During one, at 1.11am, our waters broke and I knew things were really moving – again I felt horrendous but was soon back in the water. I distinctly remember looking at the clock in the kitchen and saying in a chatty voice “oh, it's 1.19am, I didn't think it was so late”.

Seconds later, you started to emerge from my body. There was no need to push, you just eased out. I could feel your head coming so I reached down and slowed your progress just a little, and soon it was out entirely. I could feel your lovely hair – for a minute or so we rested, you under water, me resting and touching your head. Then in another slow, painless surge your shoulders and body emerged, and I reached down and scooped you from the water. Moving aside your wonderfully long umbilical cord, I saw that you were a girl, our Rose. (I found myself checking again a little while later – just to be sure!) I held you close to me and almost instantly you let out a little cry, but soon you calmed and we spent the longest time looking at each other. There is a photo taken (here) soon after your birth which I think explains better than I ever could how wonderful I felt at that moment.

Our placenta emerged 20 minutes later, you started feeding strongly almost immediately, and you were the smallest of my babies – only 3.28 kg (7 pounds 3 ounces). Everyone was elated, and your dad was so proud. You were perfect, and you had given us both the perfect birth. You restored my faith in my body and in the strength that birth can bring. I hope that one day you will be similarly blessed, for having a child under such circumstances is life-changing.

My darling Rose.