top of page

Hynobirthing, A Curse For The Unprepared

Updated: May 27, 2023

Inhale... Exhale...

Those were the words I'd written to myself.

Scrawn on a sheet of paper,

decorated with multi-coloured stars and circles.

I stuck the paper on the wall and stared at it

as I counted each contraction.

Dancing in the kitchen while your father held my waist.

Climbing stairs in our building

and dropping into a squat at the top.

Twerking on the sofa with Missy Elliott

playing in the background.

All so I could see you sooner.

But it seemed the joke was on me.

Why wouldn't it be?

After a second time sent home from hospital

I was ready to pull you out myself.

Inhale... Exhale...

The pain got stronger.

A shift in my body said I should call again.

"Well," said the midwife, "do you want to come in?"

"Either that or I birth my child on the bathroom floor," I rolled my eyes.

Inhale... Exhale...

My waters broke in the back of the car.

I felt your head descend,

my body break open.

That infamous ring of fire that we so often hear about.

Your father equated it to a scene from ER

as the midwives rushed to the entrance of the centre.

"Give me the fucking drugs!" he remembers me saying.

Inhale... Exhale...

I was still mounted on the wheelchair

when she pulled down my trousers.

Just one more exhale,

and there you were in my knickers.

Inhale... Exhale...

Bloody hypnobirthing.

22 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page