It’s 8pm on a Tuesday. We’re sitting in our little living room watching crime shows like usual after our other three kids finally fall asleep. I rub my swollen belly and wiggle my toes as we watch a murder investigation unfold.
It’s a few days past my due date and I have been feeling contractions for the last two hours. My husband John sits next to me, holding my hand. He’s calmly looking through his social media. I love looking at him when he’s not aware. His handsome face and manly veiny hands give me butterflies, and I’m so thankful he’s the father of all our children. He’s always been gentle and loving towards me and our family. And he’s amazing in bed, which is why I’m currently pregnant with our fourth child.
Another contraction tightens my belly and I place my hand on top to cope. Slow breath out. This is a very familiar feeling. Tightness and pain, but this is what I crave. I’ve always been turned on by stretching and birth, but sadly our other experiences were much less enjoyable. Our other births have been in hospitals, as our families required it of us. They never trusted a home birth. The hospital has harsh lights and touchy doctors. We could never give birth in peace. It could never be sensual. But now. We have moved to a different state. And since the pandemic, it’s been surprisingly easy to hide this whole pregnancy. Our dream is coming true tonight. We’re going to have our sensual home birth.