I gave birth in the home I was raised in: a Southern home birth tale

Surrounded by my husband, my daughter, my mother and a dear sweet friend we welcomed our last puzzle piece into our home. Born at the home his mother grew up in, the home he was made in and the place where we will let love grow for the rest of our lives. Jasper was born in our very own bathroom back here in North Carolina. It was right for us and I would't have it any other way. Go figure, my body's not a lemon.

A mid-life, post-cancer surprise baby and home birth

I became pregnant with my seventh baby at the age of 44 — after my husband, Michael, had undergone cancer treatment for Stage 3 colorectal cancer two years prior. To say that this pregnancy was a surprise would be quite an understatement; my age alone made it seem somewhat unlikely, and we were under the impression that his cancer treatment had left him sterile. Our family felt complete with six kids, and we were thankful that Michael's cancer was in remission, so the idea that we would have no more children was fine with us.

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We didn't make it to the hospital in time so our son was accidentally born at home

When my call got answered, it turned out there were no rooms available at my nearby hospital other than the intake rooms (smaller, no gas and air on tap, uncomfortable beds). The midwife offered to ring around the other hospitals in Stockholm (which would later turn out to also be full), but in the end thinking that there was a good few hours left to go I said I'd stay home, take a bath and call back later.

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My amazing, almost perfect, home birth

Monday, December 3rd was a normal day. I was 38 weeks and completely over being pregnant. I was really excited because I was going to get a much needed pedicure. It was amazing. She spent about 20 min massaging each leg and it was heavenly. I came home, my partner Mark and I had dinner and did our normal routine and went to bed. I remember asking him, "Wouldn't it be funny if that pedicure put me into labor?"