The birth of our baby boy Judd...

So, I am finally a mother of three... Three little individuals, each such a wonder in their own right.

The last few weeks of my pregnancy were very rough. I was dealing with some gross tummy troubles which I won't detail here, symphis pubis dysfunction and increasingly frequent and intense Braxton Hicks contractions. I also felt like a bowling ball was twisting and bouncing inside my pelvis, about to explode out of me at a moment's notice.

The day before I went into labour, I was alone for much of the day, with O and P in daycare. I felt very ready to welcome this baby, really quite desperate to expel it from my long-suffering body. That evening, as soon as I lay down in bed, the Braxton Hicks started up again. At around 12 they started waking me up. At 1:30, the first real conraction hit... I literally leapt from the bed at this point, and felt that sick trickle of dread as I realised I was about to do it all again. As much as I had been longing for it, now that it was happening, all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide.

Even though I *knew* this was it, I asked for Phil's validation. When he saw me start my Juju stomping, and get cranky when he (in his haste to please me) chose a non-maternity dress for me to wear to the hospital, it all came back to him. I had a number of people to call - Mum, Lani, my midwife, my mother-in-law - and was a little scared of jumping the gun. But really, much more afraid of delivering a baby alone in my house and scarring my kids for life with my murderous screams. So I called my sister, and she agreed it sounded like things were starting. I called my midwife Jane, and agreed to meet her at the Birth Centre in about 30 minutes.

For some reason I aways feel compelled to take a walk outside when I am in labour. So I did this. Despite the rain. And then Noelene showed up and we were off. I had a few contractions in the car, one when another car was stopped next to us at the lights - judging by the expression on his face, the driver could obviously tell something was very wrong (or right,as the case may be). We were lucky to get a park quickly and speedily made our way up to the first floor. This was at around 2:30am.

Jane was there, running the bath for me,and I was all set to hop straight in when my waters broke and - uh oh - they had a nasty greenish tinge. Meconium. The bath was no longer an option. So I settled for the shower. My support team took in turns to offer me water and rub my back, and meet my every need, basically, which I was pretty good at communicating via short, sharp, barks! The problem with the shower is that there is no back support, so sitting there on a chair and then a fit ball, I quickly grew tired and uncomfortable. I moved to a mattress next to the bed and leaned against the bed, kneeling. All the while, remember, I am banging either my feet or my hands during the contractions, trying to match the intensity and speed of this banging to the severity of the pain. This technique served me well when I gave birth to Peggy, and it was helping me again this time around. I have the scars to show for it - my toes ended up all scabby as a result.

The pain was getting really strong at this point. My back was aching too, and Jane started to think the baby was posterior, given the location of the heartbeat and the back pain. She didn't tell me this straight out, but I could gauge that this was what she was suspecting, and so I asked her. Big mistake. The minute she confirmed this I felt myself start to give up. I was so afraid of a prolonged second stage after what I had been through with Otis. But I rallied as best I could and kept on going with my leg/arm work. I focused on not screeching, on keeping the sound I was making low pitched and constant. I repeated "healthy pain" in my head, over and over. I moved around like my life depended on it. And when I started to feel like I was dying, all of a sudden that ferocious urge to push arrived, and I pushed Judd's big, red head out in one go! I think I surprised everyone in the room, no one was quite ready for that... Next contraction and he shot out of me, along with a few litres of fluid. Phil caught him with a little assistance from Jane. He passed him between my legs up to my very weakened arms and I wept with relief and love. The first few seconds all I felt was the exquisite joy of the birth being over, of the end of that torturous pain. The baby's presence meant little more than evidence that the whole experience had come to a blessed end. I felt the unparalleled sense of achievement that makes giving birth such a unique, life changing moment in a woman's life. And then I was just overwhelmed by love and admiration for this mucky, squirming, red-headed (!) boy I had just brought into the world. He was born at 3:53am. The birth was wonderfully straightforward and quick. It was a perfect way to bow out of my baby-making days.

Time sort of stood still then, but fairly soon after I popped him onto the breast, and, would you believe it, he latched on perfectly straight up, and fed there, contentedly, for an hour or so. I felt nothing short of elated! We were all so filled with joy at having experienced such a textbook birth together. Mum and Lan just adored him, and Phil was as proud a Dad and partner as ever. The placenta was delivered easily, the blood loss was TOTALLY NORMAL, my uterus began to contract back to size just as it should. I didn't take any of these things for granted - each aspect of the birth that went so swimmingly only served to make me more and more thankful, and to boost my confidence. It was all going to be OK. I could do this. My body could do this.

Judd Micah weighed 4.3kg, measured 54cm and had a head circumference of 38cm.

His eyes are a navy blue for now, but I think they'll turn brown.

His hair is a stunning shade of copper.

He's spoiling me with his settled demeanour, easy feeds and plenty of sleep, but that could all change with the wind, as I know only too well.

He looks like me, like Oti, like himself. He's robust, has an intense stare, and definitely feels like "mine". Love, love, love him.