Matilda Joan: My Second Natural Childbirth Story

I struggle to find the words to justify just how incredibly lucky I feel to be sitting down to write something so positive in regards to childbirth again. I really truly thought you couldn’t possibly be so lucky twice. Perhaps it’s the stigma around childbirth, and the “scary” that is portrayed as the norm. Or maybe I was just doubly nervous because it was no longer just me and the baby to stress over but also our Violet as well.

But here I am, having made it to the other side of the waiting, sitting in awe of the human body and all of its capabilities. As well as in awe of the tiny little human we’ve created that somehow has filled our hearts with twice the amount of love we thought possible.

The real story of my labours always seem to begin in the lead up. Just like with Violet I spent a large chunk of the weeks prior very uncomfortable; experiencing early labour. Constant tightenings that I was unsure of being Braxton-Hicks Contractions or real ones, for days on end. Nausea hit me like a ton of bricks once or twice as well, which caught me by surprise as it had never happened with Violet. I could just SENSE things were moving along, but the frustration lay within the not knowing. Was I close? Would my waters break first again? If they don’t how will I know I’m in labour?

I had had a couple of really, really tough nights in the week before. Going to bed with pains thinking for certain I would wake up in labour, and then being slightly disappointed when I didn’t. At the time it felt like I was experiencing all of this pain and discomfort for nothing as nothing had progressed.

Despite it all, I really tried to focus on this pregnancy being completely seperate and different to my pregnancy with Violet. Having already been through it once does give you a certain feeling of expectation, one I very much tried to avoid. Because Violet had made her entrance by 37 and a half weeks, a small part of me expected this pregnancy to be the same, and a large part of me was tired and over it by the time 37 and a half weeks came and went. We knew she would come when she was ready though, so I spent a lot of my time distracting myself and trying to be at peace with the fact that I couldn’t control when she would be born. And pretty much as soon as I relaxed and accepted this I felt much better, at least mentally.

It wasn’t long after the acceptance (sounds dramatic right?) when things really started to heat up. It was like my body had finally had a chance to relax and so she knew it was time.

Pains through the night was nothing unusual for me at this point, but on Tuesday night (13/11/18) I found myself up at a really odd hour on the toilet. Toilet trips of course were also nothing new, but things felt different. And about 30 minutes later I lost my mucus plug. I didn’t think too much of it, as I’d already lost pieces of it the week prior, so I chucked a liner on and went back to bed. Funnily enough, Vi had also woken (which is unusual for her) so she was lying in bed with Dan, as I hopped back into bed with them I’d told him I lost my plug.

When we woke up on Wednesday morning Dan mentioned how he’d had a weird dream that I’d said I’d lost my plug, and we had a laugh over the fact that it wasn’t a dream. That’s when I noticed more pressure down below than I’d noticed before.

I tried to go about the day as normally as possible, I didn’t want to get my hopes up as I’d done the week prior, so we went into town to take Vi to the Drs and then went for a browse around the shops. While we were there I noticed the pressure worsening, and whilst Dan was in a store I took Vi to the parents room so I could change her and go to the toilet myself. (This might be tmi so skip over if you don’t like talk of bodily fluids) I realised that I had been having slightly brown discharge throughout the day, but noticed it more so this time as there was more and more of it.

At this point, it was the first time I’d thought to ring the maternity unit. My waters broke before anything had begun with Violet, so I really didn’t know what to expect of labour beginning any other way. They’d said it was normal, especially if I’d lost my plug and that things may progress but there was no reason to come to the ward.

Again, trying to continue the day as normal we headed to squash for the evening. I noticed how uncomfortable I was beginning to feel, not with tightenings or anything, but just feeling “off”. Mum and dad had offered to take Violet to their place in case things progressed during the night but I didn’t want to jinx it, so we brought her home with us.

I’d had regular pains start pretty much as soon as we’d eaten dinner. But they weren’t strong enough to feel confident that it was actual labour beginning. So we did the bedtime routine with Violet, and we watched some of “that 70s show” just in case things heated up, but they didn’t, so we took ourselves off to bed at about 9:30.

I woke up at midnight to slightly heavier contractions, to the point where I couldn’t sleep through them. So I got up and timed them for an hour or so to see if it was worth ringing the ward again, I cleaned the kitchen at the same time for something to do, mainly because I didn’t want to come back from having a baby to a messy house hahaha.

(About 1am on the 15th- in labour)

My contractions with Violet never really regulated properly, and they didn’t this time around either. But they did get more intense, so I phoned in to let them know things were progressing. And of course right after I did, they tapered off. As frustrating as it was, I was a little relieved. I was able to take some Panadol to take the edge off and sleep for another 4 hours until 5am.

This time when I woke up I knew things were moving, I had to stop to breathe through each contraction. I gave myself two hours, two hours of comfort at home. I went outside to breathe in the morning air, and then came back inside to make myself some breakfast: scrambled eggs. Half way through, Vi woke up. And I was kind of glad she did. We got a full 40 minutes together, eating eggs and talking about her little sister who was coming to see us soon. Each time a contraction would start I’d hug Vi and tell her how much I loved her, and continue to hold her until it was over. It sounds sappy and cliche but it really truly helped.

(5:45am, labouring with my little love)

After a short while I went to wake Dan up and let him know it was almost time. I rang mum and asked her to come around to watch Vi, and by 7:15 I was ready to make the 20 minute car trip to the hospital. I lapped the house 3 times, procrastinating getting in and making the drive. Mainly because I knew it would be the last time just us three would be in the house. As we drove away, Vi stood in the driveway with nanny waving us off. I was teary, teary because it was my last moments with Vi as an only child, teary because we were about to meet our second beautiful little girl, and teary because well… hormones.

The drive was surprisingly okay. I hated sitting through contractions with Vi, this time it was uncomfortable but not unbearable. Mainly because we didn’t labour at home as long as I did with Violet, just because we didn’t want to risk me giving birth on the side of the road.

We got to the hospital at about 7:45. The bigger rooms were taken and unfortunately the birth pool was too. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed, but I was also just so excited to meet our little girl that it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.

So, in our little room with the diffuser running and some calming music on an occasionally skippy CD player, Dan and I sat, paced, bounced and mostly, just chatted our way to meeting our daughter. I think that was my favourite part. It was just Dan and I and an empty room, something that we haven’t had really at all since Violet was born. It was almost like we were giddy teenagers again, he always takes every chance he can to make me laugh, and it was honestly exactly what I needed through those few hours. The contractions were strong and intense, but the pain was almost halved by the fact that I could just stand there in his arms and breathe through the process my body was going through. And even laugh at some points during contractions, which admittedly hurt more, but filled my heart to the brim.

We had an amazing midwife as well who was happy to let us do our own thing, but still checked in enough for us to feel comfortable about my care. At about 11am she came in to do some obs and monitor for a little, just as she finished and as I moved to hop off the bed my waters broke. From here the contractions intensified again. I opted to say put on the exercise ball for a few more contractions before moving to my safe space again- the shower!

She set up some oils and Dan turned on some calming music on his phone, we turned all the lights off and moved the exercise ball in. This was my zone, my place. The space I knew I’d welcome my daughter into the world.

It’s funny, because although this was the exact same position I brought Violet into the world in, it was so different. Instead of feeling out of body, I felt entirely present. Breathing through each contraction and coming up for air each time- with Violet I felt like I was sucked into one long wave of pain with no time to breathe, this was totally different.

I buzzed the midwife in when I felt the incredible pressure I remember feeling before Vi was born, and with 3 contractions and 3 pushes at 12:16pm on Wednesday the 15th of November, our little Matilda Joan was born swiftly into our arms. Into a room so full of love it was almost bursting at the seams.

Mum and dad brought Violet in as soon as Dan let them know Matilda was here. I was euphoric, I didn’t feel exhausted at all. And when Vi came into the room it was like everything I’d ever wished for was right in front of me.

(Completely in love)

I can’t thank Daniel enough for everything he has done and continues to do for us. His love and strength has always been my guiding light and this was even more evident during my labour with Matilda. My world is everything it is because of him. Our girls are the best thing that has ever happened to us, and I am so incredibly grateful to have him by my side through these momentous times, even if he does make me laugh in the middle of a contraction at 9cms dilated.

Xo Emily @ Loving Little One

Third Trimester Tantrum: 8 things you are OVER by the end of pregnancy


Isn’t carrying life beautiful? The kicks, the glow, the joy of bringing another little human into the world who is half of you and half the person you love.

Well yes and no. All throughout pregnancy there are ups and downs, but pretty much all women (besides the blessed) get to around the end half of the third trimester and absolutely spit the dummy. They’re tired, they’re swollen, they’re cranky and in their minds, they’re utterly done. 

I’ve compiled a list of 8 pregnancy related things that I’m currently done with, in hopes someone, another mother, mother to be, or just anyone really, might find it a little funny. Mostly because right now, I’m completely losing my mind.  


1. Not being able to see my feet

or tie up my shoes, or shave my legs, or pick up things I drop. Basically from the hip downward is “out of bounds”,”no go zone”, “restricted area”. And yes in the beginning it’s funny, people pick things up for you and even tie your shoes for you (princess or what?). But as I’ve found out, asking your partner to shave your bikini line for you, after the 10th time, is no longer glamourous nor funny. You miss your independence! And god, being able to go for a walk without getting someone to tie up your laces.

2. Heartburn

I no longer am experiencing heartburn as Bub dropped a LOT further about a week ago. But I tell you what up until now, since I was probably 30 weeks I had not enjoyed a single meal. And I say this in all seriousness. After all how can one enjoy a meal when they feel it creeping back up their asophagus after 3 bites. 


3. Mood swings
Men, if you think your partner is bad during her “week”, then you just wait until she’s been a walking incubator for YOUR child for the last 8 months. Her hormones are through the roof, and for the most part, in her eyes it’s your fault. I’m not sure what anyone else experienced mood wise during this part of their pregnancy, but I’m pretty much either deliriously happy or a sobbing mess. And on the odd occasion when I’m cranky I usually just nap it off (lucky Dan right? though he’s probably sick of the tears by now). Living life never knowing if you’re about to cry or laugh gets old, reaaaalllly quickly.

4. Cramps

Cramps in your feet, cramps in your calves, cramps in your back. You’re basically a giant knotted muscle. And delightfully they only tend to happen when you least expect it. Ie, you’re asleep, just about to stand up, or mid stride. When you’re off guard and unsuspecting they usually lead to a unintentional yelp which causes an awful lot of concern from the people around you “are you okay? sh*t, is the baby coming? Did your waters break?”.  No, I’ve just been shot in the calf and can’t walk, but it’s fine…

5. Braxton Hicks Contractions (BHC)

Whoever Braxton Hicks is must have been a real bastard in life to have pre-labour cramps named after him. Up until about now BHC are fairly manageable, they’re short, sweet and usually only happen around 2-3 times a day. For me though, I’ve gotten to the stage now that for the last couple of weeks they happen more often, they’re more painful and honestly just down right bloody awful. Any mum that experienced them in this way will know, you either want them to get worse (and labour to actually progress) or you want them to kindly f*** off. Sitting up until 1am not really being sure if you’re in labour or not for 3 nights in a row isn’t and never will be fun.

6. Being the Sober Driver

I’m not, and never have been a big drinker. Ask anyone who’s whitnessed it, excessive amounts of alcohol and me don’t mix. But do you remember when you were a kid and your parents told you you couldn’t have something, and it just made you want it even more? Welcome to the life of a pregnant Mumma at any alcohol related social event ever. You don’t even want to get drunk, you just want a damn glass of wine to take the bloody edge off being around people who are drinking. I mean there are studies that say you can have just one… but honestly when you’ve got a little one inside of you, you become insanely protective. And that includes not just “giving in” and having a glass. Because come on guys, drunk babies are not okay. No matter what anyone says.

7. Opinions

And no I’m not talking about the well intended opinions from people who are already parents. I’m talking about the so called “parenting advice” you receive from people who either A. Have never had children or been pregnant themselves. B. Are physically incapable of having children (yes men, you). C. People who tell you you should or shouldn’t be doing something that you’ve already said you do or don’t want to do. Hello, people… it’s kind to ask if someone wants advice on something, and better yet it’s kind to actually know what you’re talking about before giving it as advice. It’s pretty simple really though, if you’re sharing advice good on you, but if you’re sharing your opinion for the sake of displaying that you know better than the expecting parents, its best then not to say anything at all. 

8. Needing to pee. Always

During the third trimester you come to realise, very quickly, that your bladder space has indeed been compromised. And even more so when a certain little someone decides to get friendly with your bladder with quick and swift elbow or kick, causing you to lose all control and wet your pants. Liners for this reason have probably been your best friend for months. And I tell you what you’ll be very very done with them by third trimester.

So there it is. 8 things I’m done with. 3 weeks left (technically) give or take. Let’s hope I survive… otherwise a lot more than a ranty blog post will be in order. Honestly though, we all know it’ll be worth it when you see that little face for the very first time. Because all the pregnancy crap in the world could never overshadow the fact that your life has been completely changed forever by someone you’ve only just met. And I bet you already can’t take your eyes off of them.

Our moment is coming. And I can’t wait.