Ripening (Citizen Theatre), at Gasworks - 90 minutes, without interval

Who has the right to tell you how and when to give birth?

Of course, it is a deeply personal issue, but one that, over generations, has been dictated by rules and regulations. Further, familial influences can be enormous.

What happens if you push back … if you want to do things your own way?

That is the conceit at the centre of Ripening, a deeply personal story for writer and director Jayde Kirchert, inspired by her experience of becoming a mother.

Photos by Liv Morison

Lea (Veronica Thomas) is in a happy and peaceful state after she discovers she is pregnant to her partner Tristan (who we never see).

A decade older than her mother, Mary (Ana Mitsikas), when she was expecting, Lea calmly and gently speaks to her unborn child, preparing him/her to enter the world.

She is looking forward to a spiritually empowered birth.

What she finds hard to contend with is her “bossy” mum, who raises Lea’s stress levels by outlining her expectations.

Further, Mary calls into question whether Tristan will even turn up for the birth.

In time, we come to realise that Mary and previous generations of the family have been subjected to intergenerational trauma, which influences their words and deeds.

And then there is Lea’s all-business doctor (Anna Mitsikas again), who is hardly empathetic to her needs and desires.

The hospital Lea has chosen has a strict policy of inducing birth at 41 weeks, with which Lea is not at all comfortable.

Birthing classes conducted by upbeat, no-nonsense midwife Sharon (Emily Carr) – for whom no question is taboo – keeps Lea grounded.

It is also where she meets a young, uncertain mum-to-be, Ali (Asha Khamis). She worries about what is ahead and the sort of mother she will turn out to be.

Lea also has a well-meaning, but decidedly alternative sister-in-law, Grace (Asha Khamis again), who swears by “lemon therapy”.

That includes squeezing lemon juice on Lea’s nipples, which hardly tickles Lea’s fancy.

In short, as Lea’s due date comes and goes, so too does her sense of control of the whole child birthing experience.

With the clock well and truly ticking to 41 weeks, she is plagued by nightmarish visions.

Lest you think that Ripening is only a horror story, it is not. It also celebrates the miracle of birth, which can and should be a positive and transformative experience.

In short, it can often change one for the better.

Ripening is dramatic, comedic and relatable.

Let’s face it, it is only human to be anxious, especially when you are experiencing something as monumental as childbirth for the first time.

Veronica Thomas is notably strong in the lead, as she transitions Lea from confident and in control to fraught throughout her journey of bringing new life into the world.

Emily Carr has a wonderful, embracing comic sensibility as the pragmatic midwife, who also manages to gee up the audience – more than once.

I was impressed by how the action unfolded on the small stage.

Set designer Sarah Tulloch has utilised large, white, ceiling to floor curtaining on a semicircular track and a small flowering tree.

My only real concern about the play was its running time.

I strongly felt that it needed tightening.

In fact, with some prudent pruning, while still raising all the concerns it did about birthing culture and the hospital system, it could have lost as much as half an hour.

I thought the repeatedly nightmare scenes were unnecessary. One would have been enough.

Nevertheless, Ripening raises important issues surrounding greater humanisation of the process of childbirth that warrants further attention and discussion.

It is playing at Gasworks until 31st May, 2025.