The off-the-grid hot tub & the unassisted home birth

When I asked my teen what he wanted for his birthday, I was surprised when he said either an off-the-grid hot tub or computer parts. Intrigued, I surfed the web to find out more about this whole hot tub thing. Sure enough, it didn’t look too complicated, but I knew better than to believe what I saw on TV. My skills in this department are limited, and there was no doubt it would require some sweat equity.

Buying computer stuff was definitely the quick and easy route to a happy birthday boy. But I couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that it would be a missed opportunity.

As my kids have grown, it has become increasingly apparent how the parent-child relationship is a slow, gradual evolution. We’ve naturally gained more independence from each other, and as a result, our time together has become even more precious (to me anyway) . In the background, the hourglass of sand. Roles are changing, and a bittersweet feeling of letting go emerges.

Before I go any further, I have to give a shout-out to the employees at Raks who have the patience of saints and, instead of telling me this was a bad idea, did the best to help this clueless, overambitious mom.

The idea is simple. You connect two pipes to a horse trough, one of which is hot and the other is cold. The five-foot pipes go to a coil immersed in a fire. Physics does its magic, and you have a hot tub. I’m here to confirm that it’s not as easy as it looks on YouTube.

Our attachments were leaky, the silicon wasn’t drying correctly and the first run was a total fail. Luke warm. I was being bossy, and he was being a know-it-all. What’s a mother-son project without a bit of bickering?

To our credit, my son and I persevered through the failures. I was quite impressed with his attitude. Every time I asked him, “Should we try again?” He was game. With a bit of patience and some duct tape on our umteenth attempt, we had a breakthrough. Okay, so it wasn’t perfect nor complete, but we finally got results, and it felt so good.

We started the process at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday, and by three in the afternoon on Sunday, we were roasting chicken apple sausages on the fire, followed by a dip in the hot tub (Okay, so it was only about 90 degrees, but it felt incredible).

I had a feeling other members in our family were doubting us, and there was a sense of surprise and awe. A comment was made about not being sure if this was a true “cowboy” or “hippy” moment. For me, it felt like a small miracle. I must say it can be hard to find a lot in common with my teenage son, but we shared a common goal, and I felt proud of us.

Thinking back fourteen years ago to my son’s original off-the-grid home birth-day. We hadn’t considered that using the solar pump in the middle of the night to fill the kiddie pool would zap all our solar power. I didn’t expect I’d be delivering my child wearing a headlamp and standing in four inches of water. Before he was born, I expected a similar scene to his sister’s home birth - four hours in a birthing pool, comforted by the warm water in a low-lit room with a midwife diligently leading us through a peaceful underwater delivery. My best friend who is also a photographer captured it all beautifully.

My son came into this world in his own way- fast and determined, with only 45 minutes of labor my kid’s father found himself unwrapping the cord from our son's neck while I leaned on him. Then we made a nest of pillows and blankets by the wood stove while we waited for the midwives to arrive. One precious full flash photo was snapped at that moment.

None of the chaos mattered because I was so deeply hypnotized by my baby in my arms. A true miracle.

My son and I didn’t get a “perfect” water birth, and we didn’t build the “perfect” off-the-grid hot tub. But we did it in our own way and more importantly we did it together. Proof that the best things don’t go as planned.