My birth story: from sailing through pregnancy to an Airbnb homebirth in Fiji
Fiona Alice, 9/12/2021, born at Pirate’s Paradise, Savusavu Fiji
Topics include:
Sailing while pregnant
Traveling while pregnant
Semi wild pregnancy
Geriatric pregnancy
Homebirth abroad
Airbnb homebirth
I learned I was pregnant only days before setting sail for the South Pacific. It wasn’t planned that way, only because I didn’t expect to conceive the first time I tried on the solstice in December. I had enough time to buy prenatal vitamins, and not much time to process the news while busy preparing for an ocean voyage. My maternal grandma was in hospice, and and I knew if I birthed a daughter she would share my Nana’s name, Fiona.
I do not recommend sailing 2000 miles upwind during the first trimester. I truly love offshore sailing and usually never get sea sick, but this passage wasn’t enjoyable at all. 17 days later, I arrived in a calm lagoon in French Polynesia and my energy and appetite instantly returned. My entire first trimester was spent sailing, surfing, freediving, and eating lots of fresh fish and coconuts.
At 12 weeks, an American doctor sailed into the lagoon. She gave me an informal prenatal checkup- took my vitals and checked my blood glucose and iron. Amongst voyaging sailors barter is more common than paying each other for goods or services- I traded her psilocybin mushroom chocolate for her service. At 20 weeks it was nearly time to sail to Fiji. I visited the atoll village nurse for another checkup, just because it seemed the right thing to do before sailing another 2000 miles. She had a handheld doppler that hadn’t been used for a long time, and after finding new batteries for it, I got to hear my baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Everything suddenly felt so real.
After 2 beautiful weeks of sailing into the sunset I arrived in Fiji at the beginning of my third trimester. I envisioned finding a local elder woman to serve as my birthkeeper and was excited about the process. I began asking everyone I met if there was a wise woman in their village that would attend our home birth, but to my surprise the answer was unanimous: “why would you want to do that? We give birth at the hospital now”
I visited the midwife clinic at the hospital to ask if anyone there would attend a homebirth. The answer was the same. The midwives were all very pleasant women trained to Australian midwifery standards, but the resources and facilities in the hospital were severely lacking. I began to realize that the Fijian culture has become very accustomed to following in the direction of the western world and they consider the shift from home birth to hospital birth (no matter how poor the facility) as societal progress. I popped into the clinic another time to ask again, and got roped into an ultrasound that I didn’t want, but figured if I found someone to attend my birth that it could ease any concerns for them to know I had done some of the “recommended” things. The ultrasound machine was an old hand-me-down from Australia, and the technician said I was measuring 2 weeks behind and that my due date must be off. I ignored this news as I was confident in my conception date and know that ultrasound is notoriously poor at measuring accurately, and my fundal height was growing steadily. My then-husband was with me this time, and he was appalled at the state of the hospital facilities. We agreed that if I didn’t find an underground midwife we would be free birthing.
I continued asking every woman I met if she had a friend or family member that would attend my birth, and I started utilizing social media to post inquiries in every outlet I could think of- Sailing groups, Expat groups, Community groups. I also continued to educate myself on physiological birth and spent time daily stretching and doing gentle yoga to help baby find it’s ideal position for a smooth birth. I was preparing myself mentally, physically, and spiritually to potentially freebirth incase I couldn’t find the right woman to join my birth team. In the meantime, I was still sailing and surfing, and also really hoping the border would open and flights would resume so that my mom could fly in to be there during labor and postpartum.
I met an American and South African expat couple at the marina bar who own a vacation rental, and they offered a discounted 1 month rental so I could birth in a home and have time off of the boat during my immediate postpartum. The house was on a hillside, at the top of 100 uneven steps, overlooking the bay where my boat was anchored. It was perfect. I was thrilled with the arrangement and felt that having a house to birth in would help make whoever was going to end up attending the birth more comfortable also.
Stories travel quickly around small tropical islands, and my situation became widely known throughout Fiji. I got the name of a retired Fijian midwife, Ateca, and reached out to her to ask if she would meet me to talk about my birth. We met at the same marina bar. She had delivered probably 3/4 of the adults on the island, and had studied midwifery in Australia where she also attended home births and water births. She understood my desires for a peaceful home birth and wanted to support me, but she was concerned that she could get in trouble with the government since she was no longer licensed. I asked her if she could attend my birth in a doula role because that was ideally what I wanted- a wise woman present to observe and offer reassurance if I needed it.
In the final week of my pregnancy Ateca managed to use her relationships with the hospital to convince the board of directors to allow one of the licensed midwives to attend my birth with her. This arrangement made Ateca more comfortable, and I agreed that all members of the birth team needed to feel comfortable for us to have the most relaxed energy and a positive experience. I was able to meet with Flori, the licensed midwife, to discuss my birth plan in detail, and explain that all she really needed to do was observe. I had to write a letter to the hospital directors stating that I was going against medical advice by homebirthing and that I assume all responsibility for any negative outcome.
On my due date I spent a lot of the day in the pool, and I took 2 trips down and back up the 100 steps to our birth house. I went to bed at a normal hour with zero indications that baby was ready to arrive, and I was feeling well enough to believe that baby could stay put for another 2 weeks.
It rained heavily that night and I slept lightly- as I always did on a squally night at anchor, even though I was in a house. A sudden trickle of water from my yoni woke me fully. I managed to hold it back as I waddled to the toilet. Did I just pee? Did my water just break? It definitely wasn’t pee. Intermittent trickles kept coming, seemingly every time right after I changed my period panties. I checked the time- it was 330am, and I had a recent text from Flori (she was working a night shift at the hospital from 7p-7a). I told her I think my waters are leaking, and I was going to go back to bed. The frequent squirts kept me up and then I suddenly had to poop. A few minutes later I needed to use the toilet again, and decided to head to the downstairs bathroom. I began feeling period-like cramps while sitting on the toilet. I knew I should try to sleep, but I ended up pooping 2 more times, and each time the cramping got heavier afterwards. I went up and down the stairs inside the house, eating a few dates in the kitchen upstairs, and sitting on the toilet downstairs. By the time the birds were waking and dawn was breaking I knew that baby would be arriving that day. I woke my husband up around 6am and told him it was baby day!
By 7am I was breathing through the surges. I used yoga and freediving breathing techniques while imagining my uterus receiving an abundance of oxygenated blood each time I inhaled, and imaging my cervix relaxing and dilating each time I exhaled. I called Ateca to let her know that today was the day and that I felt like things were moving along efficiently. She said she would get herself ready and she would stop by the hospital on her way over to pick up Flori with her birth kit.
The midwives arrived around 10am. I was walking and talking, but pausing to breathe during surges. They observed me while we chatted, and they felt confident that I was in active labor. Everyone knew my birth plan in advance- leave me alone except to occasionally listen to heart tones with the doppler that I had purchased. The walls of the master bedroom didn’t go all the way to the vaulted ceiling, so it was easy for the midwives to listen from the living room while I labored in the bedroom alone or with my husband. Surges were coming frequently and lasting close to a minute. Flori asked if she could check my cervix. I had stated that I did not want any cervical checks unless I asked for one, but being so easily influenced in my vulnerable state, I decided I was actually curious too, so I consented. Lying on my back was so uncomfortable, and the sensation of the surges in that position was so awful that I immediately regretted the decision. The news that my cervix was 4-5cm dilated almost disappointed me until I remembered why I didn’t want any cervical checks- they are not a true indication of how labor will continue to progress. Flori was sweet and well educated, and she was a medically trained midwife. She proceeded to inform me that I would likely be fully dilated by 330pm. I shook my head “No”, and told her “no numbers, no time schedules”. After that, I fully zoned out and only focused on using my breath to oxygenate and open up.
I didn’t get back up after the cervical check, I just rolled onto my left side to rest and conserve my energy. I fully lost track of time and ventured deep into labor land. I hadn’t eaten except for the few dates before sunrise, and I had no desire to eat anything. I could hear the midwives telling my husband that I needed to eat something. I said “no” a few times, and eventually had one bite of papaya to appease everyone. I vomited with the next surge after eating just one bite.
The surges began emanating from my uterus through my pelvis and into my thighs. I was still lying on my left side and I needed my husband to squeeze my right thigh as hard as he could during each surge. Experiencing this sensation in the bones of my thighs was actually the most intense part of labor. In retrospect this was my transition phase, and my pelvis was opening.
At 330pm Flori wanted to check to see if I was fully dilated. I begrudgingly agreed, and asked her not to tell me the number. Again, I was extremely uncomfortable and borderline in pain while on my back during a surge. She left the room and my husband came in and told me I was completely dilated, and that the midwives said I could push. I had zero urge to push. I wanted my body to tell me when it was time, not a number, and I definitely did not want to be coached to push.
The midwives left me to labor for 3 more hours fully dilated- I had no idea of how much time had passed, tho I did notice the daylight dimming. The surges were still intense in my thighs, and I was still waiting for my body to tell me it was time to push. I could feel the midwives saying they thought I was too tired because I wasn’t eating. I realized they were probably thinking I would need to transfer, but there was no way I would let that happen. I tried a little push with the next surge and I could feel what felt like a water balloon coming out of my yoni. The amniotic sac was still intact and baby’s head was right there.
I knew I wanted to birth upright. I squatted on the floor at the end of the bed and held onto my husbands arms for balance and leverage. After a couple of pushes with the surges, the midwives told me I wasn’t pushing correctly. I was still focusing my breath on relaxing and opening, and they told me I needed to hold my breath and push like I’m pooping. None of that advice felt right to me, but they were both far more experienced in birthing than me, so I tried it their way for the next surge. Each time I pushed the sac would bulge out and then suck back in after the surge. I asked to rupture the sac membrane, thinking it would help me to feel more “pushy”. We listened to heart tones before and after releasing the membrane’s fluids and baby was doing great, but I now felt a lot more serious about it being time to birth my baby. With the next few surges, as I felt the sensation coming on, I took a deep breath in and out and then another deep breath in and held it while pushing. My body responded by pushing with me. I was able to put in 2-3 pushes during a surge, and after only a few surges baby’s head was crowning. The crowning surge faded before baby’s head was fully born, and I pushed on my own to birth the rest of the head before the next surge. I was still squatting on the floor with my back against the bed and my husband in front of me so it was hard for the midwives to see what was going on since the sun had set and the lights were dimmed low. They asked me to get onto the bed, and my husband helped me get up and lay on the bed on my side. Flori removed the cord from around baby’s neck as I was laying down, and then told me I could push baby out the rest of the way. Baby’s body birthed easily with the next surge and I was suddenly holding a tiny being on my chest. It let out the tiniest cry and then was quiet and just looking around at us with big beautiful eyes. I kept saying “we did it!” to my baby, and then looked at my husband and said “I could do that again”. A few minutes passed before checking to find out that I birthed a tiny baby girl. It was Fiona all along. We didn’t have a scale in the house, but the next day we used a baking scale from the boat and she was 5 pounds, 12 ounces, or 2.6kg. Born at 7:21 pm, at “home” in Fiji.
The cord was white and limp before cutting it. My husband drove Flori back to the hospital for her night shift that she was now late for. Ateca stayed with me and I birthed the placenta after about 40 minutes while sitting on a short stool in the bathtub with Fiona latched at my breast. By the time my husband got back from dropping Flori off at work, I was showered and in bed nursing our little girl. He brought some food to bed and crawled in with us. My world felt so complete, and I knew in that moment that if more babies could be born like this that the world could be a better place.
