There I was in the birthing suite, holding my soft, slimy baby girl on my tummy in utter disbelief of what had just happened. I looked up from her over at my husband Alex. His amazed face is a snapshot in my memory. Echoes of the women surrounding me; my mother, mother-in-law, obstetrician and midwife. We had all birthed before, but nothing quite as unexpected as this little miss's arrival.
Rewind 24 hours.
The night before, I was a basket case of emotions, my head spinning with anxiety. Would I be a good mother to both my children equally? Blending our family felt complicated. This baby was the first for me and Alex and a part of me was grieving for the time where it was just my son and I. Being nearly 40, would my body know what to do? Would an induction mean a bad outcome?
I'd been in two minds about an induction but given my first fast and traumatic labour, it sounded like a favourable option.
But it was the vagina physio which really caught me off guard. On the first attempt of perineal massage, I burst into tears.
"Ah," the physio said gently. "There's a lot of trauma you're holding in these muscles."
Watch: the truth about birth trauma. Post continues below.