Sebastian's Freebirth: A Sacred Journey of Empowerment & Love

I wanted a beautiful, intimate, undisturbed birth at home. My first birth, more than 10 years ago, was at home, in water, and completely hands-off. It was sensual and erotic, and it set the bar really high. I wanted similar conditions for my second birth and wondered if it could go as smoothly again. What if life wanted to teach me a painful lesson for being so distrusting of the medical establishment?

Initially, my plan was to have the midwives from the home birth team present, just in case, without touching me or interfering. However, after receiving several home visits, I realized that this wasn’t how the health system in the UK worked. Having a midwife there wouldn’t be in my favor. The midwives couldn’t just be there and do nothing. Their presence wouldn’t make me feel safe or cared for, and I didn’t want to have to fight to defend my choices. These visits were only making me anxious. I disagreed with their approach and some of their statements.

So, around week 34 of my pregnancy, I decided to cancel future visits, appointments, and scans, including their attendance during labor and birth. I politely declined any further help unless I requested it. I would contact the midwife or the hospital only in an emergency or if something didn’t feel right. That was such an empowering decision! The moment I made that choice and took full responsibility for my experience, I felt incredibly calm and sovereign. There was nothing to negotiate, argue, or be pressured about. It was liberating.

Towards the end of my pregnancy, I also did a thorough online course about freebirth, on top of reading books, stories, and joining an informative Facebook group. The most valuable thing for me was learning the difference between between a true emergency and what could be considered a variation of the normal. Real emergencies are actually very rare when the birth process is undisturbed. I learned how I could prevent many undesirable situations or deal with them if they still happened. I considered what I would do in all kinds of potential scenarios.

On 21 October 2020, at week 39+3, I woke up around 10 am, feeling a bit sticky and wet. I thought it might be my mucus plug releasing – and it was indeed. The bloody show continued gently dripping throughout the day. I could feel my uterus tightening occasionally, at this stage without any discomfort. The power of birth could overtake me at any moment, so I rushed to finish some tasks I didn’t think I could postpone. I also wanted to make the space beautiful for the arrival of our child. I really wish I had done all this earlier so I could relax, give myself pleasure, dance, or have a relaxing bath. Instead, I moved from task to task, hoovering, dusting, and decorating, making sure everything was set up. I told myself that once I’d finished, I could focus on sensuality and romance.

By the time I was ready, it was already evening. Most likely, I was facing a sleepless night, and the wise thing to do was to rest and gather strength. I was starting to get tired, but thought, "Let me just finish this, then I’ll take a little nap and cuddle…" I smudged the rooms and all of us with sage, clearing the space physically and energetically. It was evening now, and I could feel surges every now and then. Realizing it was too late for my previous plans, I decided to let go. I put on a sexy red dress and admired my precious belly in the mirror, caressing it. "How beautiful you are, mummy!" I heard my daughter’s voice. I went into my Goddess mode – feeling feminine, special and divine, about to bring new life into the world!

It was late in the evening, and the surges were getting more serious. I gave goodnight kisses to my 10-year-old girl and headed for bed. Once in my room, the sensations suddenly became much more intense – I got on all fours on my yoga mat. My partner, Phil, decided it was best to get some sleep, as we didn’t know how long the birth could last. He wanted to be prepared in case it was a long one. My first birth had lasted 43 hours, so I wanted to conserve as much energy as I could from now on. It was too late for a nap, though. The sensations were now incredibly intense. I could no longer lie in bed, walk, or dance.

Between contractions, I managed to prepare a cozy space for myself – I brought the birthing ball next to me, threw some pillows over the yoga mat, took a soft blanket, and some disposable pads for later. I also grabbed my bottle full of water with lemon and honey. All I could do was one thing at a time before the next wave overtook me. I kept the flowers from Phil nearby. It was time to put on my special birthing necklace – my Mother’s Blessing surprise from all the women who had organized it for me a month ago. Every bead was from a different woman, imbued with a beautiful wish. I could feel the extra strength and support from the women’s power. I imagined myself surrounded by blessings and love, with invisible forces supporting me. I felt safe and protected, diving into my inner space.

The intensity continued. For what felt like ages, I was on all fours, moving my pelvis while hugging the birthing ball. Deep, low sounds came from my mouth. Between surges, I rested sideways on the floor, propped up by pillows, half asleep until the next contraction. Our black cat, Misho, slept by my head, peaceful and protective – my birth guardian. Honestly, this was much more intense than my first birth. I couldn’t stand on my feet or do anything else. I didn’t resist it either. It was what it was. I just surrendered to the experience, which at this point was pretty wild.

As intense and powerful as it was, it was also special, wonderful, and sacred. I didn’t need anything from the outside – no guidance, checks, or measurements. These would only take me out of my surrendered state. The contractions felt unusually long and fierce, merging into one another. It was super helpful to keep stretching my upper body on the Pilates ball while moving my pelvis. I made different sounds – some low, wild roars. At one point, I tried singing OM, and that felt good. At the most intense moments, I found that what gave me great energy and strength was talking to the baby inside me. I sang our special song to him, saying how much I loved him. I remember getting rid of my clothes at some point. I had no sense of time and was in a totally altered state. All those plans for dancing and love-making went out the window. It seemed impossible to even get up.

I still had plenty of tools at my disposal. To add some extra excitement, I had a vibrator on the side and decided to experiment with it on my clitoris and see how it would affect me. I wanted to stay aroused throughout labor to make my tissues stretchier and ease the process. I knew it worked wonders for some women. For me, though, the extra stimulation made the surges even fiercer. Not my tool really, but was curious to find out how it would affect me. So, I left it aside to try again during the pushing stage.

I remember everything in a blur. At times, Phil was sleeping in bed; at other times, he was checking on me, bringing me drinks. I recall him joining me to keep me hydrated and nourished. I sipped through a straw from the coconut water, lemon, and honey mix he made for me, eating energy balls made of dates and cashews. Something surprisingly useful turned out to be the portable toilet he brought from his camper van! Reaching the bathroom would have been a challenge at that stage. I loved my partner’s relaxed presence throughout my labor.

At one point, he checked with me about calling our doula, and I decided it was time for her to join us – it must have been around 3:30 am. It was so nice not to have to bother with midwives or anything else. I was free and undisturbed, feeling confident and powerful. Phil called our doula, and we started filling the birthing pool. Later, he told me how our other cat, Pushkin, had tried to get into the water.

Stephanie, our doula, arrived. Phil went for another little nap in case the birth was going to be long. I was still on the floor, enduring the intense, long surges. I could feel Stephanie sitting calmly on the floor in the dark room. I heard her whisper, “It’s all brilliant!” She gently placed her palms on my sacrum during the pauses between contractions – it felt divine!

The surges seemed even longer now, and I didn’t want to be touched or distracted in any way while they lasted. I needed to stay in my space. The intensity was incredibly high. I continued hugging the birthing ball, wrapped in a blanket for extra coziness, leaning forward on my knees. Low roaring sounds came from my throat. I was amazed at how much stronger the contractions were than the first time. At one point, I needed Phil to help me onto the portable toilet. It felt like diarrhea, and I felt embarrassed, but Phil reassured me. I trusted him, and it turned out to be an unexpectedly sweet intimate moment.

My partner had already filled the birthing pool in the living room, the only room in our London flat with enough space for it. On one hand, I wanted to go into the water, but on the other, I felt so cozy and comfortable where I was, and everything was working well for me. I had fallen into a rhythm of drifting off to sleep between contractions, and I wasn’t sure I could do that in the water. Plus, the thought of walking to the other room didn’t appeal to me. At times, the sensations felt as though I was breaking open, like some extraordinary transformation was happening within me, and I never thought of resisting it. In the peak of some particularly intense waves, I found myself speaking to the baby, which gave me extra strength. “I love you, baby,” I said over and over. We didn’t know the baby’s gender, but I had an intuition that it was a boy.

After a while, I decided to try the pool. I have a special connection with water and felt sure I would love it. With the support of Phil and Stephanie, I made my way to the living room and entered the water around 6:30 – 7:00 a.m. As I settled in, I noticed the beauty of the flowers from my partner and the warm glow of the beeswax candles that surrounded us. The enchanting music from a “mystical cave” playlist filled the air, and everything felt sacred. I felt special and sacred too. What a pleasure it was to submerge myself in the warm water! The coping strategy I’d been using – falling asleep between waves -worked even better here. The water was more relaxing, and I could spread my body wide while resting my head on one of the towels placed at the side. From time to time, I asked for the water to be warmer, and Phil or Stephanie would pour in hot water from the kettle.

As the waves became incredibly strong, even wilder than before, they seemed to last forever, as though my body was splitting in two. “I love you, baby!” I said again and again, alongside low visceral sounds. I imagined a golden light spreading from my womb downward, protecting my precious baby. We were in this together, such a great team! The sensations were so intense that it was hard to breathe. I remember saying something like, “I think I’m going to die,” but I didn’t really believe it. In that moment, I realized with a kind of gleeful clarity that I was in transition. I had no idea the birth process had progressed so far - I was prepared to go for days if necessary, and yet I had been falling asleep through it all.

I reached for the vibrator I had kept nearby throughout my labor. I was curious about how it might feel this late in the process. Based on my research into female anatomy, birth, and sexuality, I had concluded that aroused tissues help prevent tearing, so I had kept it on hand. Why not try it? It felt intense and amazing, and soon I felt a warm rush of water on my legs – my waters had released. I looked down to see that they were transparent. I abandoned the vibrator but kept one hand on my clitoris and the other on my vaginal opening, feeling my body stretch. The sensation was incredible. There was a soft ridge under my hand at the entrance of my yoni, and I wondered if it might be part of the baby’s head.

Another strong wave came, and I felt my perineum stretching further. “Baby, please be gentle with my body,” I said, feeling the powerful surges. I wasn’t sure if I was pushing or not – later, my doula told me I hadn’t pushed at all. Along with the stretching, something amazing happened: I felt the baby’s head emerging. Half of it was there in the water. The ridge I had felt earlier was part of his head. Another powerful surge, and I felt the baby’s head come out completely. I wasn’t pushing, just allowing my body to do its work. With the next wave, half of his body was out. I kept one hand on my clitoris and the other on my perineum throughout, feeling I could protect my genitals and control the pace of his birth. Then, with the fourth strong wave, I felt a wave of relief and lightness, and I saw my beautiful baby floating in the water. The sense of relief was pure magic.

I reached out to take him in my arms, this precious little human, still covered in so much vernix that he looked almost white. His skin was silky, soft, and slippery. I noticed his penis – a gorgeous baby boy, just as I had intuitively felt. I pressed his tiny, naked body against my breast, covering him with kisses and inhaling his sweet, new baby scent. Behind me, Phil was there, gazing at his son for the first time. We were both enchanted, mesmerized, and overjoyed. In that moment, I felt a undiscribable deep connection with this beautiful being we had been together with for the past nine months. We had already known each other, having shared so much.

I marveled at how good my body felt afterward. I could squeeze my pelvic floor muscles with strength and release them completely. My perineum remained intact – I could feel that. There wasn’t any blood in the water. It was such a gentle birth! And how empowering! The way it unfolded felt perfect, and I embraced its intensity. I never once thought about pain relief or wanted to stop what was coming. I didn’t want to numb it or change anything. I loved how unique, intense, and powerful it was.

Our son, Sebastian (we named him later), cried a bit at first, then eagerly latched onto my breast and stayed there for hours, suckling. Stephanie went to wake up our older daughter, Siana, who joined us, absolutely thrilled. We stayed there in the water, holding our little treasure, surrounded by my partner, daughter, and doula. I was so connected with Sebastian that I could hardly contain my joy. My body was slippery against the pool’s walls as I held him close. With help, I got out of the water and onto the bed, wrapped in towels and blankets, with Sebastian still latched on.

In bed, we stayed naked, wrapped in blankets, basking in the warmth and sacredness of the moment. I didn’t feel like moving yet, so I continued breastfeeding. Eventually, about an hour and a half later, after gentle reminders from my doula, I got up, kneeled on a sanitary pad, and squatted over a bowl to birth the placenta, which came out spontaneously. I had a gentle, easy pee with no discomfort or stinging – great news! No need to check my perineum. I had decided beforehand that I would allow any possible tear to heal naturally, but I was grateful that I didn’t need to worry about it.

Once I was done with the placenta, I admired it for a while. It was whole, with its vessels branching out like a tree of life, having nourished my baby. My partner called the placenta remedies lady to come, as I wanted to use the placenta for a smoothie, raw capsules, tincture, and homeopathy.

Around four hours after Sebastian’s birth, I decided it was time to burn the cord. I wanted to leave the umbilical cord attached as long as possible but not too long, as I intended to use the placenta. We had prepared a beautiful cord-burning box ahead of time, and I had ordered organic beeswax candles for the ritual. My daughter lit the candles, and we took turns holding them. Though she had to leave for her exam, Phil and I continued with the ritual. The warmth and sweet scent from the candles were enchanting, and the soft light added to the sacred atmosphere. It took about half an hour for the cord to burn through, and I loved how gentle and slow the process was, absorbing the sacredness of the moment.

The placenta remedies lady arrived shortly afterward, examined the placenta (it was intact and especially large), and made a print of it. She handed me a delicious smoothie, which I couldn’t stop drinking. Our baby Sebastian was radiant, healthy, and pink. We didn’t feel the need to call in any medical professionals in the first days – we stayed cuddled in bed, breastfeeding, and getting to know each other. Sebastian, our adorable baby to love forever – so delightful, delicious, divine!