Wyn Drabble: What's it like to birth backwards?

The romantic notion of childbirth is far from reality.

Yes, I've experienced childbirth. Three times.

Well, when I say experienced, I suppose I mean witnessed. But I still vividly recall the turmoil and agony we went through. I mean, you try and pass a new human through 10cm of dilated cervix.

And imagine how much harder it is for a man who is not even fitted with a cervix and is possibly not even willing to believe that there is such a thing.

I was reminded of these pivotal experiences on the weekend when a son and I tried to do childbirth in reverse. We had to pass 75kg of sand into a vessel through an aperture, the diameter of which made 10cm look like a vast expanse across a boundless tract of land.

The hole was much the same size as that you can describe by forming a circle with your thumb and forefinger.

My first image was of an egg timer. How easy is it for that sand to flow through that hole?

The big difference was that this sand my son had purchased was moist. Very moist. I try not to use the word moist too much in my columns because there are people who cringe whenever they read or hear the word moist. But I have to say this sand was moist as.

A theoretical reverse-birthing experiment left Wyn Drabble saluting women. Photo File

When we snipped the corner from the first 10kg bag and offered it to the hole, nothing happened. Moist sand just sat there at the corner of the bag. The awaiting vessel remained empty. Very empty.

Perhaps you're asking why we were doing this. Well, we were dealing with apparatus that required a heavy base and, according to the manual, sand was what was supposed to provide the ballast.

In some kinds of apparatus, water can be used for this purpose but this manual did not mention water so we thought it best to stick with the specified sand. Silly, I know, because it would have been easy to stuff a hose into the hole and let rip but we were going to do this properly. By the book.

Moisture or no moisture, we were going to fill this baby with moist (sorry!) sand.

I'm sure the phrase "design flaw" must spring into a woman's mind during the birthing process. If, of course, there is time for thought or phrase between the bursts of excruciating pain.

Our apparatus certainly displayed a design flaw. Surely the filling hole could have been much much larger so that even moist sand could just be tipped in direct from the bag.

We needed a plan. What better solution than to make one. So we made a plan. We didn't have all day and the contractions were already starting so we had no time to waste.

We took a plastic milk bottle, cut off the base and inverted the top into the cervix and upended the bag of moist sand into the cut-off base. Again, nothing really happened.

We needed another plan. We didn't want to involve a midwife so we went for a cardboard carton.

We snipped a corner from an empty wine carton and used a two-funnel approach – first into the carton whence it ran into the upturned milk bottle and thence into the ballast receptacle via the cervix.

Okay, it was slow and needed a bit of prodding but over time (a number of hours) we managed to get through the long and rather arduous labour and, after all our efforts, a brand new ballast base was born.

Yes, I was proud, but I have been prouder. In fact, despite our difficulties doing it all in reverse, I still believe it was easier than the proper birthing way.

Women, we salute you.