Are you pregnant and planning a waterbirth at home, but not quite sure how to sell the idea to your partner? Read this light-hearted ‘guide’ to persuading your partner to have a waterbirth at home 😉
My husband wrote about the birth of our second baby for an NCT (National Childbirth Trust) newsletter back in 2011. He wanted to tell the story from the mother’s point of view – so he did!
Persuading the Hubby, part 2: “Waterbirth in the kitchen”
If you read part 1, you may remember the challenge I set myself: persuading a sceptical Mr Hubby of the virtues of reusable nappies. Persuading the hubby can sometimes feel like cycling uphill into a stiff wind – but, just like the equally stiff winds so often encountered at changing time, it can be overcome with a deep breath and a firm resolve! Compared with the reusable nappies, however, my next challenge was a veritable Tour de France of uphill cycling!
The idea quite literally surfaced while we were swimming at the local pool. It was towards the end of my second pregnancy, and I was floating in the water, enjoying the sheer bliss that only a pregnant woman can feel as eight months of pregnancy weight lifts off her feet. Mr Hubby was throwing our youngest into the air, and they were splashing about wildly, filling the air with giggles. Our little one was two now, and he’d come such a long way since his traumatic hospital birth two years earlier. It suddenly struck me how relaxed I felt in the water with my family around me, and I decided there and then that I would bring that feeling of tranquillity to my next birth. “I’m going to have a waterbirth in the kitchen!” I exclaimed. My sudden outburst caught poor Mr Hubby completely off guard, and he froze mid-throw in stunned bewilderment as our little bundle of joy spiralled through the air and hit the water with a resounding splosh! Without the “1-2-3, breathe” they’d been practising at baby swimming, the little mite came up coughing and spluttering. He was absolutely fine, but a lifeguard had already blown his whistle and several youthful pool attendants were diving athletically into the water! By the time we’d towelled off, thanked the lifeguards for their diligence and smiled meekly at the other swimmers (who were looking at us as if we were completely incompetent parents), Mr Hubby had pulled himself together enough to reel off an immeasurably long list of reasons why ‘waterbirth in the kitchen’ was a terrible idea. “Surely giving birth at home will make a right mess?” “What if something goes wrong while you’re in labour at home?” “Where on earth would we get a pool?” “Are you seriously thinking of the kitchen?” “What if you get in and a wave of water goes everywhere?” “Will you cope without pain relief?” “Will it be massively expensive?” And finally: “Could we do it on the cheap with the little one’s paddling pool and our leaky garden hose?!”
Well, I’m all for winning my man round with a bit of frugality, but after some research online and on the NHS website, it soon became clear that the paddling pool and garden hose idea wasn’t going to fly. Birth pools need to be clean, deep enough to immerse your body, and strong enough to take your weight as you hang over the side catching your breath after a contraction. Luckily, I did find ways to avoid forking out gazillions of pounds. First there was the hire option, with pools available from around £80 for five weeks – but in the end I got a second-hand one on eBay, complete with a hose, for just £24. All I needed then was a new pool liner for £25, and my set-up was complete! That came to around £50 in total, but as I pointed out to Mr Hubby (when the postman turned up with an inflatable birth pool under his arm), parking at the hospital last time had cost over £30 – and this time we’d have needed a babysitter for our little tyke as well – so I reckon we made a saving!
Mr Hubby’s other concerns about home birth were addressed by a couple of interesting encounters. The first was with a very kind midwife who visited us at home and reminded us that giving birth is a natural process and that I could trust my body. She promised to bring plenty of gas and air, and added that a home birth would really help her meet her home birth targets. She was so lovely that we could hardly say no! The deal was sealed later that day by the second encounter: a chance conversation over the fence with the elderly lady next door, who told Mr Hubby that in her day kitchen births were quite the norm. After an hour of listening to stories about births in times gone by, Mr Hubby was quite dazed and in no state to argue any further.
Despite my immaculate preparation, there was one thing I forgot – and I strongly advise you not to: a decent pump. My labour started a few days before my due date and, as Mr Hubby will tell you, home birth pools are very, very large. Very large. With his little bike pump, it took a good hour of frantic pumping to inflate the thing, and halfway through – just as he hit his lowest ebb and his right arm was about to drop off – two very stern midwives arrived just in time to whip him back into action. Eventually he crossed the finish line, I stepped into the warm, soothing water, and all my cares drifted away. Mr Hubby was clearly exhausted and looked as though he’d been in labour himself, but before he could even catch his breath, one of the stern midwives spun on her heel and told him, in no uncertain terms, that his next job was to keep the pool within a degree of 36°C – and as it had already dropped to 34, he’d better get cracking! So back and forth across the kitchen he went, carrying saucepans of water out of the pool and topping it up with hot water from the tap. Back and forth he went, nineteen to the dozen, for a good three hours, spurred on by the hawk-like glare of the midwives – which gave me excellent entertainment between contractions. In fact, it struck me that the whole thing was a modern-day version of “Why don’t you go and get some warm towels ready?”, and it kept him nicely occupied for the whole labour.
Before I knew it, my second child was born. The warm water eased my contractions, softened my tender regions and helped me avoid the dreaded stitches. It was such a soothing entry into the world, and I will never forget it. Neither will Mr Hubby – his pumping arm has never been the same since!
Thinking about a waterbirth at home or in hospital? Read more in Benefits of Waterbirth and Waterbirth: A Natural Approach to Childbirth.
