It’s already that time of year again – January yes, but we are thinking ahead.
Mothers day is in 52 days, or 52 sleeps if you count them with littles. That’s really not long!
Last year, I invited families to book in for a mini photoshoot celebrating mothers. We had mum friends, a mum who’s partner was a away, a dad who got involved too and the most beautiful little details in each one.
I was honoured to capture a snippet of these stories, and to share the beauty of each of these mothers, because often in the thick of it, you don’t see just how beautiful your interactions are.
Some of my favourite were the cheeky smiles that go to their eyes, and the joy in each mum as they held, walked and talked with their growing babies.
I won’t share the ones of their little faces, those are private.
But I can share these.
And now, I’m inviting you. If you’re local to Helensburgh or Rhu (or can get here), I’d love to capture your beautiful family and celebrate you.
Mums to be, mums of 1, mums of many, grandmas… and dads/grandads if they want to, all welcome to come create some magick. I know all too well that these moments are fleeting, even when they don’t seem to be.
Get in touch and we’ll book your date 💕
You deserve to be seen – not just in a selfie!
With love,
Rohana
Details:
Dates: 31st Jan, 7th Feb, 21st Feb.
£60 – a full gallery, 5 digital downloads, or the option to upgrade.
A few weeks ago I had the honour of going to the woods, sharing tea and crafting a story of vulnerability, sacredness, and a reclamation of power. Before we started, we spoke a while and the depths of this shoot were clear, it wasn’t just about getting naked in the woods … it was sacred. It was about self love, worthiness, joy, grief, pain and pride. It was a reclamation.
I delivered the gallery for these the other day, and I’ve been thinking a lot about how the images I caught tell a story. A story in many ways about power.
It isn’t that we lose our power as women, but often that it is reshaped, molded, and flattened into something that just doesn’t align with us anymore.
This shoot was a reclamation of that power
A “fuck you” to the idea of staying small
An full body acknowledgement that we are sacred just because we exist
A rebirthing
Because while we cognitively can ‘do the work’ and tell ourselves that we’re okay, there is an incredible shift that comes when we lie in the earth and let ourselves be held in nature.
These images are a few from our time dancing in creation; they are deep, profound storytelling images… and I’m really proud of them.
From a shedding of layers to a reflection on what’s been learned, and dancing into new directions on your own terms. These images are in more than one way a message, to give ourselves the grace of processing, to honour the time and journeys we go on, and to ultimately find ways to put on our armour and take the roads less travelled – because there we can find our magick.
As always, thank you for reading, it means so much to me that you’re here.
A couple weekends ago we went down south to visit family and celebrate my MILs birthday. Naturally there’s a WhatsApp chat where all the photos were shared from the weekend, and one of the gems captured was this one.
It’s me yeah, showing one of my nieces how to use the camera. Not for the first time, she expressed a little interest and it was a real moment of joy to see her get excited about it. A little later, one of my nephews really didn’t want to get in the big family photo so I asked him to help me before we both ran in for it. It might have only been a second but it was a big win for me to share something with him, because I really don’t get enough time to know these family members deeply.
Anyway, when I saw this photo I had a memory come up, and then my husband asked me when I first knew I wanted to be behind the camera instead of in front of it. I stumped me, because I really don’t think there was a specific moment I knew, it’s just been something I grew into.
There were a lot of us over the weekend. Lots of adults, and lots of kids ranging from teens to my tiny baby. It was loud and busy, so of course my camera came with. Over the years it’s always been by my side for big days out, or when I know there’s the potential of overwhelm, because getting creative is a way for me to connect with myself and regulate my nervous system.
I’ve done this for as long as I can remember, from years watching my dad do the same as I grew up, it was a natural progression for me to get involved with him and hide behind the camera too. Of course, now I understand that’s what I’m doing, but back then, it was just what felt good in my body. It was a beautiful way to connect with him over art and it was an easy excuse to take a minute in a crowd.
My dad would bring his camera to group outings or on the family holiday. He’d snap pictures of us out with friends or document events on Gibraltars National Day while everyone else mixed in the crowd. I remember looking for him, and knowing 9 times out of 10, I’d find him behind the camera. Back then (ancient times I know!) he would upload the images onto the computer and spend hours creating slide shows of our adventures, and then sharing it a week or few later with everyone who was there. Now with my own kids and the progress of phone tech, when we see him, I can guarantee I’ll have beautiful photos sent to me without the wait. He’s visiting in a few weeks, and I’ve asked him to bring his camera.
I have picked mine up and put it down so many times over the year, finding that when life feels overwhelming, I can get creative and artistic behind my lens. Now I’m intentionally choosing to do it both when things feel good and when they don’t. Last week I had the privilege of capturing a birthday celebration walk, and this week I’m excited to be trying something new with a friend (watch this space for an update). Asking my dad to bring his camera is another one of those intentional moves.
I think about how my kids see me, hiding behind the camera and creating stories with it. It looks different to the way my dad did, but it’s something I am proud to be passing on. The chance to pause, reflect, capture and create … and then get those creations printed out to tell stories on our walls.
The day we ate apples on the beach after driving 10 hours Working together on a woodland walkThe day we got ready for babyBath time stories
And so many more…
I thought about how when I started to say that I was “hiding behind the camera” I felt a sense of guilt and shame, but actually, I’m not hiding selfishly. I’m gifting myself pauses, I’m gifting myself creation spaces, and I’m gifting my future self the magick captured in moments we’d otherwise forget.
I’m showing up here, reminding myself that I’m committed, and also absolutely exhausted. The day has been filled with noise from my kids, and my brain is seeking quiet dreams. As I type, my 6yo is cocooned in bed, chatting to himself, and the others are finally snoring.
P has just told me that when he cocoons, its because he’s tired, or sad, or angry, or out of energy. It’s his way of saying, this is a way for him to feel safe, enveloped in the folds of the the thick blanket, he enjoys the comfort, and seeks it out when he feels things get too big, or when he wants rest.
His explanations never cease to amaze me, because though I have already understood this tool in his toolbox, he’s verbalising it to me, and that feels expansive.
Tonight I’m thinking about creation. Specifically about the phrase create more than you consume. I bought the kids cameras after many many months of toying with the idea; and today they’ve been busy capturing all the things… around the house, each other, random shots and details, and of course lots of blank or blurry ones too. It has been so wholesome to watch, especially after our trip to Wales a few weeks ago, where they were all keen to have a go with my DSLR, and actually had a lot of fun posing for pictures and instructing each other from behind the camera.
It was the tipping point for me in buying these for them, and I’m really impressed so far, but of course aware that day 1 is novel, and so curious to see how they will stand the test of time.
They are creating… and seeing them create is one of the most interesting experiences of parenting so far for me. Seeing how they express their energy, create movement, games and different forms of art, each in their own way.
I find it strange to call myself a creative person, because through school I was often pushed to be more analytical, less creative, leaving that to the actual artists. Its something as I reflect on, I am determined to repair for my own children; because though I might not share much of what I create, I am essentially always working on some kind of creation…
From doodles to beaded animals, jewellery to nail art as a child and then teen, to now as an adult, cresting digital art, exploring watercolours, making t-shirts or posters, creating home ed resources or spaces in our home; and of course, art from behind my camera lens is one of the most powerful forms of storytelling for me.
Create more than you consume.
I hadn’t thought about our life in this way before, but I think we do… we are constantly creating, living in a dance of inner worlds, ideas, projects and plans. I’ve learned how to create more play with my children, and I see them bring new ideas to life every day.
We are creating, all the time.
It’s not a stretch then to think we create our reality… but that thought is for another day! I’ve got snuggles waiting with P.
💕
Oh, before I go, just for fun, have you created anything to bring you joy today? Can you? … go do it!
I wrote recently about 3 steps I use as a quick way that I try and move out of a ‘fight’ response when my kids trigger me, and I based my writing off of conversations with other parents too, creating essentially a mini strategy that is helpful moving away from fight and into a space of connection.
Since then however, almost as though the universe has been prompting me, I have found myself not reacting in anger or annoyance, as much as I have felt exhausted, unbothered and in a mood where I just want to say “do what you want then!” I suppose if my kids were older, or if I were a different parent, I would – but thankfully they are little and I am working hard to break away from old mainstream cycles of parenting.
So instead, I leaned in to my toolbox, resourced myself and now I’m choosing to write about it.
The freeze response is, in many ways a little bit hidden. It wasn’t until my oldest was nearly 6 that I understood it in the way I’m about to share; so if it feels new, don’t worry, it is!
‘Freeze’ is a survival response, and we know that when being threatened, if freezing is our body’s best survival strategy, then that’s what we’ll do. It isn’t a choice… because ultimately, our body’s are far quicker at making decision than our minds can catch up with.
However, in parenting, especially parenting little ones (and I’m guessing teenagers too!), when we move into a freeze response, it’s often masked as a feeling of apathy or exhaustion – the kind of response where your kid does something again and instead of getting angry or even upset, you move into the whatever, it doesn’t make a difference kid of mood.
It’s when I doom scrolling Instagram reels or the putting TV on just so that they’ll stop arguing… where the energy to do anything is zapped away.
Freeze is not a choice... in my experience, its often a sign of burnout.
However, like with fight, there are ways that can help move away from it. As parents, this isn’t a long term solution, and it doesn’t replace actually doing the work of healing and understanding why we feel like this in the first place, but, it can help in moment to moment parenting; where we need a quick fix until we can carve out some time to dig deeper.
How?
Well, the essential thing to understand here is that FIGHT is a sympathetic response to a trigger; where our bodies have decided that, in order to survive the threat, we need to fight our way out.
FREEZE is not like that, it’s a parasympathetic response. Often you’ll hear energy workers etc say that parasympathetic is good (which it can be) because it is our ‘rest and digest’ system, BUT that isn’t always the case; because in fact, the freeze response is an exaggerated rest response, in an attempt to survive whatever threat we perceive to exist. Think how an animal plays dead to avoid becoming prey; our bodies will perceive a threat, and make the decision to ‘play dead’ by becoming lethargic, apathetic or avoidant in order to survive.
So….
To get out of this, we need some activation. Which means, shaking, moving, dancing, getting motivated or, eliminating the perceived threat. Since the housework isn’t going to do itself, and dinner will still be uncooked after a doom scroll, elimination as a parent is probably not likely – our kids will still be shouting for us even if we can’t imagine what they could possibly need now.
Therefore, once we realize we are freezing, the next thing to do is get moving. Put some music on, do some dragon breathing or kapalabati (if safe to do so), shake or jump or, my personal favourite the past few weeks has been to find an easy dopamine hit. As my ADHD brain moves into freeze and I know that I need to get out, I’ve found that having a quick fix of dopamine is a real help. Snacks are a winner. Music absolutely. AND a small side project that brings joy with only a small amount of effort or time – for me this has been working through some photography edits. Anything that won’t be a hyperfocus but brings joy works brilliantly.
Ultimately, freeze is a sign of taking on too much, and being overwhelmed. As a neurodivergent human, this is something I didn’t understand affected me more until I learned that it actually does. So if you are ND then solidarity! And if you’re not, then that doesn’t make your overwhelm any less valid, it literally just means you’ll find it in different spaces or be able to tackle it with the same or different tools.
It isn’t a sign that we are failing.
It isn’t a sign that life is too hard.
It isn’t a sign that we can’t cope.
It is a survival response to our situation, and a nudge from our body (and the universe) that something probably needs to change for us to thrive.
With spring here, Ostara this week and the earth in the northern hemisphere beginning to bloom, I encourage you to walk outside with bare feet on the earth… grounding into a bigger energy is something that I deeply appreciate and have leaned on a lot recently. Finding a practice that brings joy; and breathing outside with no goal other than to just exist for a few minutes. Walks at the beach or somewhere with water are also a firm favourite.
If you’re in freeze, I see you. It won’t last forever.
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Mary Oliver
I began to write a post on the bus the other day. I began one in my head as we walked. I began to think again while at the park watching Ila-Rae on the swings. Truthfully, my musing this month is that although my heart and soul want to be creating, writing, expressing; my body and mind are busy and exhausted. That’s okay.
I am only just out of the 4th Trimester with Ezra, and still very much finding my feet as a new mum again. Theo is thriving in his own way, and also challenging in others; Ila-Rae is the same. Both of them remind me daily that there is absolutely no point in trying to control the way they want to live their lives, because the only things I can control are my own reactions (or responses as I’m trying to reframe them), and the environment I create – to an extent anyway.
There is a part of me drawn to minimalism and so when things get too chaotic, I end up having a big clean out and resort – today was that day. Unsurprisingly therefore, I have finally made some time to write, because my brain and body are that little bit calmer within our environment. Yes the playroom is still messy, and yes there are pens ALL over the kids bedroom floor, and yes, Ila-Rae went to bed with felt-tip marking over pretty much her entire body; BUT they had real dinner, we played and had some wonderful connection, the bedsheet is clean AND we even managed to hoover up most of the rice and chickpeas from the sensory tray spillover. I’ll take this as a win!
Autumn has pretty much gone now I feel. Though we have had some sunny days, the nights draw in fast and the cold is beginning to make it self felt. This year though, Theo’s old enough to talk to about extra layers, turning lights off, saving energy when it’s possible – and as a result, he’s being conscious about it, which is both the reason and motivator for H and I to model using our resources responsibly. We’ve had some wonderful conversations regarding sustainability, and he’s actually even more excited to take the bus when we go out now, regularly checking that the fuel/energy being used by our family is not ‘too much’. It makes me sad to think at 4 he will already have a sense of climate anxiety; but I am also determined to make positive changes with him (and Ila-Rae and Ezra as they grow of course). The next big thing I need to organize with him is a neighborhood little pick – which sounds simple and cheery but with 3 babies under 5, it’s something I am yet to manage as whenever we do go out and pick up the few loose bits here and there, I always make the mental note to pack some little bags… and then forget.
Homeschooling
As Theo officially reached school eligibility age this year, I had panicked a little about the face we are home educating. I wholehearted believe it is the right choice for our family right now… but I am also someone who feels nervous about doing things ‘wrong’ and home-ed is very far from considered the ‘right thing’ from conversations with family and friends. Slowly though, I feel like it is being more accepted – or maybe I’m just getting better at navigating the harder conversations.
We bought Kindergarten Math with Confidence and I was so excited to start in September … but Theo wasn’t bothered and so I didn’t push. Instead we played and got used to life with Ezra around. Numbers though were still featuring heavily in his interests so we have watched a lot of Numberblocks on CBeebies and I ignored pretty much every part of me that wanted to quiz him. Until the last 2 weeks where he’s been playing with numbers, adding and subtracting and asking us to join in and throw questions at him. The joy he shows when he knows the answer is palpable; and the curiosity when he needs to try and figure it out is incredible. Had I pushed, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. So I’ve been looking at the curriculum this week to find ideas for ways to bring in the challenges he is showing signs of wanting… and for now, we’ll go from there.
He has almost no interest in letters and says he has no need to read because he can read with an adult; while Ila-Rae will draw shapes and tell me they are letters… so already I see their needs are so different, even though she isn’t yet 2 (almost though!). He loves his construction play and so I am debating getting a Teifoc building set for him, but the cost is holding me back. I’m sure it’ll be worth it, but maybe one for the future – right now he is content with our Grimms Pyramid styled blocks that a friend made for us.
Lastly in terms of home ed, I’ll add that though we aren’t doing anything formal, I am going back to keeping records because of the court case in Portsmouth ruling in favour of the Learning Authority (LA), because it falls into the growing sense of worry that more requirements and restrictions are going to be placed on families who are choosing this path. I have an Instagram account that focuses more on sharing what we’ve been doing and I am also using pen and paper to journal important observations… alongside photographs because I always enjoy capturing their moments, but that is partly because of my own interest in photography. For now, our life won’t change really, but I am conscious that I don’t want to do things ‘wrong’ and end up with problems with our own LA here in Plymouth, or any other in the future.
Photography
Here are a few choice images from the last few months. My hope is that if I manage to make this writing a monthly occurence, I will be able to share between 2 and 5 favourites from the month past, and hone my own skills while I do so.
Inspiration
Currently I’ve got a few things that are keeping me going. Inspiration is one of those things that, in my opinion, is very personal, because we each have a different need that should be met in order for inspiration to feel authentic.
I subscribe to Julie Bogart’s newsletter and, although I don’t read every single one that pops into my inbox, a while ago she sent one that really resonated. She spoke about parents finding hobbies, to stop stressing over our children’s learning and instead, learn something new ourselves. To demonstrate a love of learning and a passion for a project or activity or anything really, because when our children see it, we are modeling a healthy relationship with learning. It really struck a cord with me, and so I’m keeping it at the forefront of projects or ideas I have. Maybe it’ll work for you too.
I’ve also been listening to Life Without School podcast, as a little reminder and breather during the week. The episodes are short enough and beautifully thought out. I love the honestly behind conversations and although my children are younger, I find a lot relatable.
Lastly, I’ve put reminders on my phone to smile more! It’s a small thing, but the reminder every couple of hours pops up and it is a way for me to check in with what my body feels too. The idea is that by reminding myself to smile, I am rewiring my brain in positivity – I don’t always want to smile, but the reminder is soft, and a happy word, so I soften my jaw a little, breathe and if I want to, smile. Rather than a reminder to meditate or do some ‘self care’ which ends up feeling like another job on the list, this is gentle and effective for me right now.
I invite you to try it… smile. Just for a second. Then for a bit longer. Deep breath through the nose if you can first, and then soft your jaw, cheekbones, eyebrows… and smile. 💕 How does that feel?
I’ll tentatively promise another update next month. With lots of things in my head, I hope to share a few projects then too.
I’ve avoided writing about ezras birth story. I keep saying I will but I’ve procrastinated constantly… and I know why.
It was hard. Beautiful, but hard.
** All images included in this post are taken by Gaby Sweet, our incredible photographer **
In many ways I think I’ll view it as the hardest birth of all of my children, and the most empowering experience by the end. I’ll endeavour to make this is chronologically as possible, but the reality is that birth isn’t. One thing happens after another but when we look back there are moments that stick with us – moments so intense that we are fully transported back. I know with each of my births those moments have been intensely different.
These are late in the third trimester, taken by Gaby on film, at our 2nd pre-birth meeting.
Ezra Krishna was born almost 2 weeks over the NHS due date we’d been given, and I was exhausted. By 35 weeks I had already starting counting down the days and weeks, never thinking I’d be pregnant for another 7 weeks from then. I was convinced baby would arrive by 38 weeks, and I was ready – or I thought I was.
But 38 weeks came and went. Then 39, then 40 and midwives started suggesting interventions. In the weeks leading to our due date, I’d had several periods where I thought labour was starting, only for things to frustratingly taper off again. At one point I was so sure I called Harrison home from work, only to find that the labour signs stopped with the kids bedtime. Exasperating! I learned a lot of patience through my impatience, and had to do a lot of letting go.
I was offered a membrane sweep, which I had made clear I would not be having early on. I was told at 41 weeks I would be booked in for an induction in 5 days; again I declined. I said I would go in for monitoring instead.
41+5 arrived and I lost a fair amount of my mucus plug, with the blood on my underwear to prove it. I called to inform the hospital I would not be attending my appointment for monitoring as I was in early labour. The response was shocking – passed around to various phones, I was finally told that I wasn’t on the system. This annoyed me, as if I had gone to the hospital I would have been alone, leaving my 2 kids upset with my husband … but I said okay, and goodbye. I was prepared and excited to relax and look forward to meeting my baby.
Just a few hours later, things felt slow but similar to Ila-Rae’s labour, when I got a callback from the maternity service. They wanted to know why I had missed my scheduled induction (the one I’d refused and said not to book as I’d be waiting for spontaneous labour!) and told me I was required to come in for monitoring. I said I would go in tomorrow for monitoring ONLY but I was not leaving the house that day – and so the Midwife began to rattle off the dangers of having an overdue baby, telling me “it would be a shame if something were to happen, or if baby was stillborn” because I had refused induction. I was talked to like I knew nothing, and told there was medical necessity for me to attend that day. I declined, telling the Midwife I knew my rights as a birthing person and that I knew my body and baby – I would not be leaving my house. The firm message for me was “the first intervention in labour begins when you leave the front door.” I knew I wanted a homebirth AND I knew I would transfer if needed – I wasn’t going to risk my health or baby’s… but I wasn’t going to be bullied either.
My oxytocin levels plummeted. The stop and start labour for weeks had been frustrating but this was 100× worse. I felt so angry. And sad. And annoyed by a system that believes so little in womens abity to birth their babies. I had no contractions for hours, and then when they came they were less intense… it was clear that our baby would not be arriving that day.
So I shared about it on social media carried on with the day, did bedtime and all that jazz. Once the kids were asleep, Harrison and I had an angry and enjoyable conversation about the social media responses I’d received, which let out a lot of tension I was holding. I am grateful to have a partner who gets angry with me, and who believes in me so much that he was perfectly fine going against the professionals.
After a while, decided to go to sleep. I knew this labour was the real deal, but like so many birth stories I’d read, I still didn’t feel safe enough so my body was holding on. I tried to create my oxytocin bubble again, using my affirmations, and visualising what I hoped for in this birth. I slept intermittently between 12 and 4, exhausted but unable to fully rest. I remember downloading a contraction timer app, but honestly gave up because it was more of a hassle. I knew this was labour, my back hurt in a way that it hadn’t in my previous labours, but the rawness was there. At 4am, I gave up, went to make a sandwich and started to watch the clock.
The surges got more regular. Every 5 minutes or so, raw but manageable. I text Gaby, and got busy getting into my zone. I was so excited. A day labour! I hoped we’d have some beautiful light and a day birth … by evening it was a point of joke that I’d even thought it would be possible.
The day was stop start… some moments extremely intense, some moments of laughter and relaxing. I was so frustrated at points because I felt like everything I thought I knew was going out the window. Ila was by my side, the whole day. Harrison made sure everyone was fed and had drinks, he kept checking on me, and was flitting between the kids and my needs. Theo spent the whole day watching Maddie’s Do You Know… honestly that woman has saved so many moments for me, she deserves a written thank you! He binge watched telly and ate and played a little… got in the pool briefly and then back to telly and sleep. Completely different to how I’d imagined – we’d spent hours over the weeks leading up talking about birth and waves and crowning, but on the day, he knew he needed his space. In the end, I’m grateful for that.
The pool with Theo and Ila was not what I’d imagined. I thought it would be nice and calm and homely to have them with me… but they were so excited. Theo kept splashing, Ila was stuck to me. She knew something was happening but she didn’t understand. And as the back pain got worse but contractions didn’t seem to regulate, I started getting more and more frustrated. She picked up on it all.
Eventually I kicked both kids out the pool to watch a film. It was needed but then the guilt and sadness began to take over. The excitement was fading… and I was struggling.
Midwives weren’t much help. They came which was a surprise as we’d be told they might if they could be spared, but we were given no time frame. I asked for a VE which was agony – but I couldn’t carry on without knowing…. I don’t regret it. They said 4cm… except, it could also be 6… they couldn’t decide. So they stayed and observed me for an hour. Contractions were irregular, some almost unbearable, some much more manageable. Before leaving they checked my dilation again – this time talking between themselves about babies position (but not telling me at all!) and then telling me it could still be 4, but they could stretch me up to 7/8 (that was painful AF!).
It was around this time with the midwives I think that Harrison suggested the TENS machine… I had totally forgotten about it, but it was a welcome relief. I had only used the water until that point, and lots of movement breathing.
Then came the most intense part. This memory holds the most strength of labour still for me, and the vulnerability I felt brings me to tears. I remember lying on my bed. Curled up into my inner space; this was my time for rest… and I did. I slept in between contractions so intense I felt like I was being ripped apart. In the later moments as I lay down, turning my TENS machine up so high I felt the reminence of those shocks for days after – I text a friend telling her I felt like I was dying. In that moment, though I knew this was the intensity of labour, I truly felt like I couldn’t go on.
In between my sleep Harrison brought me toast. The kids fell asleep.. Ila lay next to me, wanting to know I was close. But then things got too much… Harrison took Ila, and just as he got her to sleep downstairs, I had an intense contraction. Instinctly I moved onto all fours. Something shifted.
Harrison downstairs. I told Gaby – who had sat with me and gently assured me that I was okay, that I could do this, that I was doing this – that I was going to get back into the pool.
Tens machine off, I got into the pool and transition began. I was so deeply in the zone that although I registered Harrison telling me he thought we should call the midwives again, i couldn’t respond. He made the decision and got on the phone.
This is one of the few really intimate moments we had … because he was so busy making sure I had all I needed. He’s exhausted, I’m in the deep space of Birth…but when I look at this image, I see the trust and support. I see the love.
The next contraction came, and my body took over. I was pushing.
I could feel our babies head. I screamed. I roared. It was intense.
"Sometimes we roar our babies out"
The midwives told Harrison to call paramedics instead, but I was pushing, the baby was coming and I would not have been able to wait even if I wanted.
I don’t know how long it took from then to holding him, but he arrived, roared out with such intensity that I woke Ila up.
Then he was here… Harrison told us baby boy. I just sat, having caught him and pulled him up onto me, unwrapped his cord from his neck, I was still in awe. Somehow my body had known I needed the water… that I was ready, but I had doubted myself so much that the reality of holding my baby was still a shock.
My loudness had woken Ila up, so Harrison had brought her in, and she tried to get into the pool with me again. Instead, I got out.
Before I even sat, our placenta was out. Easy as anything, and intact. I put it into a bowl and curled onto the bed, with Ila there, munching a biscuit and our baby boy wrapped in a towel on top of me.
Ezra. He was here.
I drank some herbal tea to avoid major bleeding – given my history with Theo, this was a precaution and a mental safety net.
Harrison was still on the phone. The paramedics were on their way… but it would be hours yet.
Theo woke up, cried and came up the stairs. So soon he was cuddled in… completely indifferent to the newest addition in my arms. Harrison was already sorting out the pool… checking in on us while he worked. I had afterpains… and they were Intense! It’s true, they get worse with every child.
We moved the towels I’d been sat on, put some fresh ones down and began to just settle in, trying to latch Ezra but he wss mostly sleepy and content.
When the paramedics arrived, 2 hours after we had called, they were shocked at the fact midwives hadn’t even called to check in. I showered, and was still bleeding steadily so, against my deepest wish, but following advice, I decided to transfer in.
I am a person who deeply believes we can birth in the way we want. That we intuitively know if something is wrong and that I was in tune enough with body to trust it. I knew I hadn’t torn, and that my bleeding was normal. I also knew my previous bleeding with Theo’s birth was for concerning, and that this pregnancy I had not been given an iron transfusion. I knew I was fine… but I also knew I didn’t want the trauma for my children of rushing mummy into hospital hours later because of bleeding. So I transfered, to be safe.
I have to say though, the paramedics were very respectful about my hesitation. The male paramedic was concerned by blood loss, because he couldn’t gauge it from the pool (which was gone) and towels had soaked up so much water as well as blood. The female paramedic was trusting, she gave me the space and made sure I knew the power was in my hands. It was my scene, and they were there as an assist.
Gaby was still with us too, hours after the birth by this point, so she prepared to leave as I did. She was so incredibly calm and centred. She was exactly who I had needed with us, not just for me, but for our whole family. I told the kids they’d pick me up in the morning and kissed Harrison goodbye. It was bittersweet and part of me hated it. I wanted to be in our bed, snuggled up with my children. But there was no Midwife coming… and I knew this was to be part of our story, so *deep breath* off we went.
Story to be continued in the immediate postpartum writings … below are more images from our day 💕
These are some more of the parts of our story.
I know that for some people, birh photography is something they wouldn’t dream of… but others are curious. These images form part of our story – they capture both of my older children on the day their brother was born, they capture the support I had from my husband, they capture the depths of my commitment to birth my baby in a way I knew I wanted. It hard, but ultimately healing.
If you think you might want someone to capture your birth… ask around. It is absolutely something I don’t think anyone would ever regret…. because it isn’t just a photo, it’s a story of the journey.
When I went to university in 2015, I covered the walls of my room with blue tac’d photos of my family, friends and the recent places I had visited.
Photographs for me were a way to stay connected; to transport back to the tangible feelings that a memory may hold, triggered by the sight of them on my walls. It was a way to take home with me, and it worked.
Now in 2021, 4 moves later, I have a husband, 2 children and a bump… and my walls do not have photos covering them, but I take more now than I ever did back then. Photo’s are a way of documenting our life. Various walls have twine and pegged photos, which we swap out when we feel change is needed. They display activities, family, friends and our own every day life – to me, there is little more precious than preserving that for my children; so they grow with the memories and reminders of their life, and have stories attached to each one too.
Some recent ones 💕
I’m grateful for my camera
I’m grateful that I can document this… for our walls, our memory box and for our family.
So this last couple weeks baby and I travelled back to Gibraltar and left hubby behind in Scotland. The plan was he’d be leaving with work shortly after but some delays have postponed that slightly.
Because of all the travelling, and the fact Theo had chicken pox and then a tummy bug, photos have been scarce. I am using my dad’s camera now, and enjoying it because I am learning from him. I also signed up to a photography online course so will be starting that soon! I am honestly very excited for it.
Christmas is a week away now so things are very busy. Baby is lots better and enjoying the sun and the free reign he gets because its easier to chase him in the small space. Here are a few of him making the most of his freedom:
I’ll post more soon, it’s going to be a New Year goal of mine.
Supporting you from pregnancy to parenting 