And that was not my intention.
Like any first time mother-to-be with good intentions, I had a loose idea of what my birth plan might resemble.
I had actually convinced myself I would have a serene water-birth accompanied by a midwife and support person. Just like the handy YouTube videos of calm and controlled water-births with two maybe three people MAXIMUM, there to witness the arrival of the baby.
Exactly the same.
On the day of the delivery my only plan was to get the child out of the vagina. That was the immediate pressing issue.
Before I knew that though, I had carefully considered who I wanted in the room with me. The baby's dad was out of the question as we were no longer in a relationship.
So, I dabbled with the idea of just having my mum. Then I thought perhaps just my best friend. They seemed like perfectly acceptable sound choices. As the due date loomed I seriously contemplated just myself and the midwife - how very naïve of me.
But, what transpired in that delivery room on that day is best described as an all inclusive life experience. Think cocktail party with a far less flattering dress code.
No less than ten humans were in attendance when my daughter burst into the world.
Yes my friends, ten.
I was there. My mother and not one but two of my closest friends were also there.
The midwife was front row. And the paternal grandmother was also present.
My dad was there and two, yes, two assisting midwives were also in the room.
And just when you might have thought the population spike had reached it’s peak in strolled the obstetrician who popped his head in to check on how things were ‘progressing’. His words were something to the effect of, "It looks like there’s enough people in here, I'll head out".