My freebirth was an extension of my wild pregnancy. I love my freebirth story so much. It was the most perfect, most amazing, and most normal thing I ever did in my life. Here goes…
Contents
If you want to read about my wild pregnancy journey first:
Early Labor—easy, mellow, and uncertain
I didn’t want to labor at night since my son’s sleep was very fragmented and soothing him demanded a lot of my energy at night. During pregnancy, I worked on imagining my ideal birth scenario. In it, I always imagined my labor starting in the late morning. Somehow the ideal scenario from my head actually played out. I got the first notion of labor around 11 am and my son, 20 months at the time, slept through most of it.
I wasn’t sure what week I was since my cycles weren’t yet regular before I got pregnant. I was fairly certain about the conception date, but I was ready to be wrong too. I was open to staying at home and birthing unassisted somewhere between 35 and 45 weeks, but I was more expecting to go into labor after 40 weeks. But, it happened at 37 weeks and a couple of days!
Although I was ready for it, I was still expecting to go into labor rather later than sooner. Seeing pink-tinged discharge and mild sensations in my lower belly that morning caught me somewhat by surprise. Feeling the early signs of possible labor and that ecstatic energy that only it can bring, I told my husband that something is going. I explain that it might happen that day… or it might happen in a week—or who knows. We decided to prepare but to go about our day.
The first 2-3 hours were mellow and mild. We made breakfast and blew up the birth pool. Of course, Ilija loved this. He watched with fascination and then got in the empty pool. We barely managed to convince him to get out of the pool after a while. It’s as if he sensed everything amid the play.
My body was also cleansing for the birth. I felt the need to empty my bowels during those few hours and went to the toilet 6-7 times for sure.
Anyways, I made a list of foods for my husband to buy while taking our son out for a walk. I wanted to eat well and have all my nourishment for labor and early postpartum prepared. While they were out, I napped a bit and woke up peaceful and invigorated. I played some music and decided to make my labor tea (motherwort and nettles with lots of honey) and prepare my birth space.
Preparing the birth space & setting the intention
I walked to the birth space, the room where the pool was, sipping my tea. I glued affirmations that I had hand-written during pregnancy on the wall above the pool and listened to Yolande’s beautiful meditation. I set my intention and I stood there as if dissolved in it. I knew my space was ready, it felt just right.
My husband and son came back from getting the groceries, and we all had breakfast. Around 1 PM, it was time for Ilija’s nap. He came to me to breastfeed a bit and fell asleep. I carried him to our room—not where my pool and birth space were—and he continued sleeping for the next two hours.
By that time, I was sure labor was real. It did take those couple of hours for the contractions to pick up a rhythm and signal to me that it’s time for baby to come. They were still mild and I wouldn’t even call them painful at that point. They really felt like waves, but small ones. I still went about my day, I prepared a quick meal for my son once he woke, chatted with my husband, and listened to slow music.
Humming, softening & rocking through to surrender
As the waves started demanding my attention, I moved and hummed through them. I rocked my hips and danced through them. My voice was deep, soft, it was coming from my insides. I was softening, mentally, physically, spiritually. I was letting the waves come through, channeling them, becoming completely flowing.
I experimented, I let my voice and body guide me. It felt good. The breaks were long enough, I didn’t want to time them and get in my intellectual brain at all, but I glanced at the clock a couple of times and realized that they were coming at about 3, 4 minutes apart.
Around 3 PM, Ilija awoke from his nap. We all spent some time together, I helped him eat his lunch. But at this point, I couldn’t give him my attention during contractions. I’d need to focus fully on them. My husband noticed I was going inward, and he asked if I wanted him to take Ilija to his grandparents’. I told him that I would like that. The plan was to see how it would go and I was open to Ilija being present, but I suspected that I would prefer to be alone to fully get into the sensations.
I kissed my son goodbye, knowing that we would be a family of four once he was back. They packed up and went off (my husband’s parents live close by, so it wasn’t a long trip).
Ah, and I was alone. What a privilege—I thought! Finally some time just for myself! It truly felt like a labor spa that I deeply appreciated, especially with an energetic and intense toddler that wasn’t sleeping much.
I allowed the sensations. I allowed the intensity. I was opening, I was reaching the next phase, going there—now there in my mind and soul, in that other world. The terrain seemed to be clear, I felt like I was passing through without barely any obstacles. I kept clearing anything that might’ve remained in the way with each contraction, leaving me totally cleansed for the next one.
My mellow music was still on, and I was on the bed. I got hot-and-cold sensations, something I already experienced during my first labor. When the sensations came, I felt so hot, I needed to throw away my blanket, stand up, and release. The energy was coming through and being released. I vocalized it, at that point louder. Letting my voice out was so healing. When the contraction passed, I felt cold. I needed to cover myself and lay down or just take a position that allowed my muscles to relax.
That time that I spent alone was precious. It was only about an hour, and the perfect time for my husband to return.
During my last labor, it was 12 hours after these sensations that I gave birth. Not this time…
Intensity, water, FER & emergence
My husband came back around 4 PM, an hour later. It was time for him to fill up the pool. At that point, it got intense. I took off any clothes that I still had on me and got in the pool straight away. The room was warm, we used an extra heater since it was January. The water felt magical, it was one of the best sensations I ever felt. It was perfect, I loved being in there, although we managed to fill up the pool only about to a third (we don’t have endless hot water but a boiler).
I grabbed the handles on the pool and roared and bashed around, letting it all out. In between contractions, I was totally there. The breaks felt quite long, although I have no idea how long they actually lasted. I just knew that I was so rational during them, and I told my husband to keep warming up pots of water in the kitchen and pouring them into the pool—a nice way to keep him busy. I was sure that by the time the moment to give birth came, we would’ve reheated and filled up at least 2 more boilers. I also told him that it felt so good to roar but that I’m not suffering and that there was nothing to be worried about. He understood, witnessed me, and helped exactly in the way that I wanted.
The surges didn’t get intense until that last hour, and even then they felt liberating and healing. As they got stronger, I completely surrendered… moaning, moving, grabbing, roaring. Trusting, letting go, letting the energy release. I felt like a fierce wild animal, and entertaining this image made it fun and all the more powerful.
During pregnancy, I would imagine my body as an hourglass-shaped portal, a wormhole—opening up to the Heavens above and to the Earth below, adjoining those energies in my center—solar plexus, uterus. That image came back to me in those moments of intense labor, and I was it. I was literally opening up that way, I was a channel, it was the most open that I ever felt in every sense of the word. Yet, I was so ready for it, I felt no resistance and I felt full power and intuition, unlike during my first birth.
And then, FER (fetal ejection reflex) kicked in. At once, and with an incredible and unstoppable force. I couldn’t believe it! What?! Already?! Is it possible?! And at the same time—YES, this is it! It is possible, and it’s incredible! In an instant, I found myself in awe of an almost electric surge coming through my body. I was in the pool, I allowed it to take over, opened up to it—it actually felt GOOD.
I felt the head drop. Instant. Woah—really?! YES! The ring of fire, not painful, just a semi-second—I was saying “Marko, Marko, Marko” (Although I was certain I was actually saying “Marko, come.”). I felt down.And in just a couple of unconscious pushes, my body did it, she did it. The surge came, I roared—the head came out! I looked down and put my hands on my baby’s head, a little hairy head still in the amniotic sack. I felt it for just that semi-second that felt like an absolute eternity. It was eternity, as I know that moment is forever connected to eternity beyond linear time and space.
Then the time-space continuum continued its linear course. My husband stepped into the room, a semi-second after the head came out. In awe and unsure what to do, he poured the hot water into the pool. I instinctively moved a bit, wondering what position to take for the emergence of the body. I didn’t think at all, I just did. I decided to move my body back a bit (I was on my kneeling in the pool on my knees, my legs quite close together).
Then, I felt her move—I felt her little body actually rotate, something I had wanted to experience. And out she came in another spontaneous push that didn’t require any conscious effort. The sac must’ve released then. She squished out into the water, and as she floated up—I accepted her straight into my arms!
Her eyes, ancient like a turtle’s, met with mine. She looked at me with those old, knowing eyes. I put hert against my skin, on my chest, I rubbed her body covered in vernix—such thick vernix! I took in every detail, gently making sure everything is ok. She cried almost straight away. Then I saw she was a girl, my feeling all along. My perfect little girl! Our daughter. We thanked the Universe, in euphoria and such deep gratitude.
It was 5.15 PM, just about 6 hours since I felt the first signs of labor.
My husband, whom I prepared for a longer labor based on my 24h last homebirth experience (with a difficult pushing stage), was completely ecstatic and in tears of joy.
Enchantment, the birth of the placenta & a failed cord-burning ceremony
We moved to the bed to get comfy, wrapped in towels and blankets. I sipped my tea in such glory and peace, my husband made me a sandwich, and my little girl was suckling away. She latched 15 minutes after birth and continued to breastfeed without a break for an hour and a half. I absorbed the enchantment of the earliest postpartum and the synchrony of the hormonal matrix of undisturbed birth.
I birthed the placenta about an hour and a half later, on the toilet. It was funny since I thought I was going to have a bowel movement, and, although I took the placenta bowl with me. Once the urge came, I moved the bowl out of the way and the placenta gushed out into the toilet! Our newborn daughter was, all the while, calmly breastfeeding in my arms, wrapped in towels.
I knew that I didn’t tear the moment she was born because her emergence was so smooth, but I checked, and I was right—no tears at all!
Next up, we had a comical situation with the cord. The plan was to do a cord burning ceremony. I loved the symbology of fire. In China, burning the cord is thought to strengthen the baby’s qi or vital force. It’s also a great way to cauterize the blood vessels, and it leaves the cord sterile (although this isn’t really necessary).
But, the burning was creating a lot of smoke, and the setup was a bit difficult. Also, opening the windows wide wasn’t an option here in the middle of the winter. Smoke filled the room and the cord didn’t seem to be thinning much after 5 minutes or so. We opened the windows to let the smoke out and we took the candles out. Also, my husband was supposed to get Ilija by now—it was already around 9 PM. So, I reluctantly admitted the failure of the cord burning ceremony in our case. I told my husband to put scissors in boiling water for 10-15 minutes. Then he cut the cord and tied it with gauze.
Just to add, I love the idea and the symbology of doing a lotus birth and not cutting the cord at all, but I wasn’t ready for it postpartum-organization-wise.
Reunion & the End
A couple of hours later, my husband picked up Ilija. My midwife from the previous birth also stopped by in the meantime with a friend of mine, just before Ilija came. She simply checked in and bought snacks, which was really nice. My husband previously asked if it was ok for her to take a quick look at our baby since she was a bit purplish, and I knew she was fine. It was nice for the midwife to stop by, though. She lived in the neighborhood and we became acquaintances over the years.
And as fate would have it, that’s how our girl got her name. We were sitting in our living room chatting and snacking, and I said I just didn’t have a name for her. I was waiting to see what felt right, I couldn’t come up with a name but generally loved our Serbian girl names connected to nature… And so, my friend started listing names—and that’s when it clicked: Dunja (pronounced Dunya)! That’s Serbian for quince, some very old varieties grow in this region. “Dunjas” are a part of our folklore, they’re in many stories and carry the symbology of love, abundance, and health.
Later on, my Arabic and Indian friends told me that Dunya means “the world” in their languages. Believe it or not, I recalled pulling up the tarot card of “the world” the morning when my birth started. I had felt the need to pull up some cards to “open up” the birth. I must’ve held this image somewhere inside me during the birth itself. Dunja was perfect.
That’s where my story ends, for now. Thanks so much for reading it through to the end, I sincerely hope that you enjoyed it and that it inspired you in some way.
In Summary—I Choose Freebirth Over and Over Again
Freebirth was, undoubtedly, the best decision for me. I now stand in complete awe of the magic of undisturbed, physiological birth, humbled and transformed, having experienced it on my own skin.
I still can’t fully and intellectually grasp just how perfect my freebirth was, and I’ll only ever be able to understand it from the primal, intuitive part of my being that allowed the whole process to unfold.
I continue to be humbled and awed by it each day, and it’s reverberating in so many aspects of my life and mothering. I am now on my own independent birthkeeping and herbalism path, connecting my desire to support women in birth and overall healing.
I can’t even begin to speak about everything that emerged for me as free birth opened my heart much more than I ever thought was possible.
The founder of Herbal Doula.
Home-birthing mama, independent scientist, natural pharmacist, doula, birthkeeper, and holistic health and birthrights advocate. Endlessly passionate about creating and sharing empowering health information and birth support. Ana has written 150+ and edited 800+ articles, some of which reached over 1 million people
Beautiful!!! Love it. I am also a big fan of the Free Birth Society 🙂 Altho there is still some fear to unpack for me, im very sure I want a wild pregnancy and free birth as well when we conveive our first. Will revisit your story then. Love
Thank you so much for your kind words, Marit. Hope you unpack all that you feel needs to be unpacked. <3 Ana