An extraordinary Gift

Many attempts have been made by me to write Jacks birth story. But I always abandon the task for not really knowing where to begin. Jack offered us many signs of his intended existence in this world leading up this conception. So it seems that Jacks journey into this world began well before his conception.

Prior to Jacks conception, I could sense our baby was coming to us, but was filled with a combination of elation and fear at the prospect of having another child. I had suffered terribly with depression 5 years proceeding as a result of a bad reaction to the contraceptive pill. This led me to believe I would never be able to have another child. The risk of becoming pregnant and developing depression while pregnant was too frightening a prospect to imagine. I feared how depression would affect my growing baby. I feared how a panic attack experienced in pregnancy would affect my precious little one. I feared the negative effects of medication upon my baby. As a highly maternal person, these fears had the same effect on me as it would had something physical prevented me from having children. My fear of depression had rendered me infertile. And my ‘infertility’ shattered my spirit.

It was summer 2003, and I had been well and free of depression for several years’ thanks mostly to the continued support of my husband and soul-mate, Glenn. One night, while Glenn was cooking dinner while I stood by chatting with him, (our accustomed nightly routine) the topic of vasectomy came up. To snip or not to snip? I shared with him this feeling within me, a kind of knowingness, that there was still another baby waiting for the right time to come to us. I was wondering if the right time was drawing near. Yet, that lingering fear of becoming ill again lingered in my psyche. I wanted a baby desperately, yet the thought terrified me. Even though well, my past illness still held such power over me.

We decided to take the girls to the coast for a week and it was there that while out walking on the beach I met a woman. We had an immediate connection and she shared many intimate family secrets with me, telling me that she was unsure why she was telling these things. She had not shared her secrets with anybody, but she felt that for reasons she couldn’t explain, I must need to know. She told me about an experience she had once, where she found herself unexpectedly pregnant. This had happened at a time in her life when having a baby would have been enormously difficult. She felt that this pregnancy was not welcome. She explained that during a meditation, she shared her feelings with her baby. She explained that the time was not right for her to have a child. She explained that she saw in her minds eye, a tiny light coming towards her, growing larger as it approached followed by a light kiss on the cheek. She then heard the words ‘it’s okay, I will kind somebody else.’ And she saw a tiny hand waving goodbye. Not long after, she miscarried. She held no guilt as the baby was happy to ‘find somebody else’ to nurture him or her.

She then went on to tell me the story of her son who held special ‘gifts.’ As a child of only three years old, he told his mother that he was clever, as he chose her and his father to be his parents. When asked what he meant by this, he explained that he had chosen her one day when she was playing netball. He went on to describe to her a day in her life when she was only 13 years old. He described to her what her netball uniform looked like and circumstances surrounding that day that he could not possibly have known unless he had ‘been there.’ The woman asked him what daddy was doing when he chose him to be his father. The boy then described to his mother exactly what his father was doing at the same time on the same day. He described in detail things he could not have known had he not seen it. Her son would often talk of this place he called “home” and the things he learned there. If his mum had a pain, he would sense it and place his hands above the sore area without making skin contact. He would then say “healing hands mummy. Healing hands.” He told his mum he had learned this “back home.” I should point out that this family were non-religious so he hadn’t learned about healing hands or his other ‘home’ as part of any religious education.


I found tremendous comfort in her stories. If I was to become pregnant and I did become sick with fear, then I could let my baby know I had to let him go and he would be okay. He would find another to love and nurture him. He would kiss my cheek and wave goodbye and he would be okay. So then surely, if a child knew that his development in my womb was going to be distressing then he would not choose to come to me. He would choose somebody else. So then, I felt that if I did become pregnant, I need not worry as the baby had chosen me because he knew me to be a good mother and nurturer. As we chatted on the beach, I noticed two enormously pregnant women walking by with beautiful, full, ripe bellies, shiny with the tightness of their skin. Was this a sign? An omen perhaps?


Glenn and I spent many lazy afternoons making love that summer, sleeping secure in eachothers arms for hours afterwards. It was a very joyous time in our lives.
On New Years Eve and we shared celebratory drinks with our neighbours as our children played together. We all made new years resolutions all knowing full well they were made to be broken. In a drunken slur I joked that mine was that I ‘wasn’t gonna get knocked up.’ Baby Jack was conceived that Morning at 2.30am despite the fact that Glenn and I did not make love and hadn’t for 5 days. Ovulation occurred with a force that resulted in that familiar pain upon release of a ripe juicy egg.

As it was, I had a blissful pregnancy free of anxiety and depression. I felt like the luckiest woman alive and spent my pregnancy on an emotional high. At last, our baby had come to us. He was the baby I thought I would never be able to have. I was pregnant and healthy. I had done it! I had triumphed!


Following a month of spurious labour, my midwife and I decided between us that I would present myself at the Birth Centre the following morning to have my membranes ruptured. This stop and start labour was very tiring and combined with weekly migraine headaches causing partial blindness as well as excruciating ligament pain meant that, well, I had had enough!

Due to the fact that I was already 6 cms dilated I was anticipating a quick labour.
My husband, Glenn, and I were full of excitement at the prospect of finally meeting our longed for baby. I was looking forward to birthing this baby and was free of fear. Glenn, however was apprehensive knowing I would experience pain.

My membranes were ruptured with a warm flood which is always an incredible feeling. There was no going back now. Together, Glenn and I paced the hospital corridors and climbed long flights of stairs in an effort to bring on labour. There was a lot of pressure placed upon me by my midwife as well as the obstetrician to go into labour quickly which of course, was probably stalling it. At first they said I would have to go into labour within half and hour otherwise I would need to be admitted to the labour ward for some Syntocinon. I knew within me, however, that they could not do anything to me without my consent, so 6 hours passed and then I accepted I could use some Synto to get this moving. I was however, deeply disappointed to have to go up to the ward. I had wanted to birth Jack in the same bath in the Birth Centre where I had laboured in bringing my first born child into the world. I had birthed before in the labour ward and I knew how difficult it was to labour and birth there without drugs. They have no useful labour aids such as a big bed, a bath, bean bags etc as it is impossible to get comfortable. I felt my spirit sink as the Synto drip was inserted at about 2.30pm.

Only about half an hour later I began having contractions. They came on quickly and rapidly grew in intensity until I announced to Glenn that “I must be having a low pain tolerance day, because these really hurt!” I had only had about 3 at this stage. Where was the nice slow build up I had had with my previous births? I asked my midwife for the gas. To my disappointment, it made me feel awful and out of control. So as the contractions intensified, rather than suck on the gas, I chose to use the gas mask to hit myself in the head with it to distract myself from the pain. Well, it was a strategy at least…

After a couple more contractions, I was sure I couldn’t handle this overwhelming pain that had come out of nowhere and taken me over. At this point I demanded that I be disconnected from the Synto drip and also requested an epidural. Surprisingly, our midwife agreed and turned off the drip. She then examined me and I was 8 cms dilated. She told me that once the anaesthetist arrived the baby would have been born. I told her that I didn’t care- I WANTED AN EPIDURAL. NOW!!!

Soon after she had left the room to make arrangements I was overcome by an overwhelming pushing urge. It was like nothing I had ever known and it consumed me. Glenn fetched our midwife, Maree as I was overcome with this incredible, unrelenting force within me and pushed hard while kneeling over the bed. I began to feel my tissues stretch as our baby moved down preparing to crown. The head moved down further, my vagina stretching and thinning further still until I felt the splitting sensation as my labia separated ( it had fused together following previous birth trauma). Throughout the crowning I continued to tell myself that it was fine and I was in no pain. Glenn told me our baby’s head was out and I reached down and stroked his tiny warm, wet head. “It’s good to do that,” Maree said. My body took some time out to rest here. I was aware of Glenn talking softly and lovingly to our baby, offering him gentle reassurance. “He’s a Blondie,” Maree said. Soon I became aware that perhaps a little too much time had elapsed and still, I felt no contraction coming, so I chose to push anyway. A long three minutes passed, and as our baby’s arm emerged alongside his head, he was difficult to push out. But with some skilful manoeuvring on Maree’s part and some furious pushing on mine, our baby was freed and from here Glenn took over from Maree and our baby was born into his fathers hands. I heard Baby Jack cry and I turned to see him, our perfect little man, slippery fresh, fruit of my womb. My body had just performed the most extraordinary thing. After a labour of a little over an hour, our 9 lbs baby boy had arrived healthy and strong and Glenn and I were euphoric.

Jacks birth was the final, crucial step in recovery for me. I am no longer fearful. I will always be grateful to him for bringing with him the extraordinary gift of freedom from fear.

HypnoHarmony,
What an amazing conception/birth story!!!!
Thank you so much for sharing it, I really enjoyed reading it and it offered me a lot of comfort and inspiration!
Thanks again! =D>

Thankyou for your kind words. :D I am so happy to hear that you enjoyed my story. :)

Wow what an amazing story, I understand why it took awhile to get it onto paper/print!

Thanks for sharing it
Best wishes Michelle

Thanks for sharing your story- Lovely sentiments within it

Thankyou for sharing your birth story :D Wow!

OMG that is absolutly mindblowing. I have tears in my eyes. You have told your story so well.
=D>

A very beautiful & inspiring story, thanks for sharing!!!

That was a truly beautiful and very moving story.... thankyou so much for sharing!

I'm so moved, thank you for sharing your most personal thoughts and feelings both before and during your pregnancy. Best wishes to you, Jack and your family.

Wow what an amazing story!! O:)