We birthed our baby in our caravan.

The moment just before the paramedics arrived, shortly after we delivered our baby, ourselves in our caravan.

I’ve been playing catch up on our trip to date, and am still quite a few weeks behind, but it’s time to jump to the present to announce that last week, in the very early hours of the morning, Alicia and I welcomed our second child, a beautiful, healthy, baby girl, Ellia, into the world. Before I go too much further, I want to take a moment to express my deepest gratitude and love for Alicia—I am simply in awe of her strength, courage, and determination.

Our latest adventure began minutes before midnight and, with minute-long contractions every 2 to 4 minutes, getting to the hospital was going to be a problem. In the preceding weeks, amongst other things such as outlining what to do if the baby refuses to wait for anyone, Alicia mentioned not wanting an ambulance. Having called the birthing unit to give them a heads up, and with the arrival of a baby imminent, I suggested it would be time to make for the car. Contractions were quickly becoming more intense and it was increasingly unlikely that the baby was going to wait the 40-minute drive to the hospital, even if Alicia could manage to make it to the car. I asked again if she was certain she wanted an ambulance (hey, I was sticking to the instructed protocol!), and I was met with, well, essentially, if I asked again there’d be consequences!

With triple zero on the phone, it was clear that this little Wonder was looking to meet us sooner, rather than later. The waters made way, and very soon after I’m supporting a slightly blue head in my hands. I have to say that, certainly in this instance, triple zero were outstanding, and owing to the fact that the ambulance was on the way it was easy to remain calm. And so, we had a blue head, and with it, brownish fluid pouring from baby’s nose and mouth, which I took to be normal, and was reassured as such. The blue face was clealry not a good situation and Alicia was instructed to push, and without delay, which is all well and good but there was no contraction for Alicia to work with.

It was a surreal, protracted moment in time, particularly as I was supporting our baby’s pale blue head in my hands. My priority was for Alicia to be able to remain as calm as possible—if I’m calm, she’s calm, and so for that reason I never had the phone on speaker—trying to convey the situation to triple zero as a matter of urgency, but without raising too much alarm, was difficult. It was evident Alicia understood the situation, though, and very soon thereafter, I was holding our beautiful baby in my hands.

It’s funny, I really must be a stickler for protocol, or at least our own, which are perhaps more important, but when I was asked over the phone what we had (I assume that, partly, in identifying what we had, I’m also confirming if everything seems in order) I faltered as I wanted Alicia to see for herself, first. We never found out what we were having because we felt that having it unveiled in the moment is special part of the experience. And I suppose it also serves to shields you from any disappointment, if only slight, of news that is contrary to your hopes or expectations. Even with Alina we insisted that, immediately after her birth, she was to be handed to us, cord attached, so we could take a moment to just be with the baby, and then see for ourselves whether we had a boy or a girl. And so, I shared with Alicia that we had welcomed into the world, a precious baby girl. The ambos arrived 15 minutes later.

I followed the Ambulance to the hospital. I wanted to travel with Alicia and the baby, of course, but that would have meant we’d have been stranded 40 minutes away from home without any transport. By the time I’d arrived, parked, and waited in emergency to be taken up, the placenta had been birthed, and the umbilical cord cut. So, I have 3 children, and have never had the fortune to cut the umbilical cord. With my eldest daughter, there was a complication and there was no opportunity, with Alina I gave Alicia the honour, and with Ellia, I was held up downstairs in the emergency department. I reckon that delivering your own baby trumps cutting a cord—it was an experience that I’m sure to never forget.