Brydee & Baby Hallie
I found out I was pregnant the day after Valentine's Day. I am very much a planner, and I knew this journey was going to ask me to surrender control in ways I wasn't entirely comfortable with. So I prepared. I found our hypnobirthing teacher Mollie, our incredible doula Jen, and together with our midwife team, I worked towards the birth I wanted a totally unmedicated home birth.
At 40 plus 1, my waters broke in the early hours of a Saturday morning. Pete and I spent the day walking the dog, watching TV, eating a very spicy curry, and keeping the oxytocin flowing. By Sunday night, still waiting, we went to bed early. At 11:50pm I woke up knowing. I was in labour.
I ran a bath and let Pete sleep for a little longer, breathing through each surge quietly in the dark. By 2am they were coming thick and fast. What I thought was every ten minutes was actually every three. Pete called Jen, who immediately said she was on her way. He called the midwife team straight after.
By 2:45am Jen and our midwife Penny had both walked through the door at exactly the same time. There was something so reassuring about that moment. Suddenly the room felt full of the right people. Jen took Pete into the kitchen to fill the pool while Penny checked my vitals. Pete, being completely and utterly Pete, had already put on the light projector, the fairy lights, and my playlist. Walking into that kitchen genuinely took my breath away. It was calm, it was beautiful, and it was exactly what I had imagined.
Getting into the pool was extraordinary. The water took every bit of pressure off my back and I felt myself sink into it completely. No pain relief. No gas and air. Just my breath, the warm water, and Pete’s voice beside me steady, calm, and constant. Every time I felt myself losing hold he brought me back. In for four, out for more. Over and over. I always thought hypnobirthing was something I was doing for myself. Watching Pete that night, I realised it had prepared him just as much as it had prepared me.
For five hours I worked through each surge in that pool, going completely into myself. I barely spoke. I just breathed and trusted my body to do what it knew how to do. And then, after five hours, came the most overwhelming, primal, unstoppable feeling the urge to push. It just took over. I didn’t decide to push. My body simply did it.
After two hours of pushing, Penny noticed the baby’s heartbeat was beginning to rise. She suggested we get out of the pool for an examination to see exactly where the baby was. I won’t lie, getting out of that water was the last thing I wanted to do. But Pete and Jen both felt it was the right call and I trusted them completely.
We moved into the living room and I got up onto the sofa for the examination. And there it was the news we needed. The baby’s head was right there. We were so close. What followed were around fifteen minutes of guided pushing on our sofa, Penny gently encouraging me, Pete’s hand never leaving mine, Jen quietly holding the space around us. And then, in our living room, on our sofa, in our home. Our baby arrived.
The moment Pete looked up at me and announced we had a girl is something I will carry with me forever. Our Hallie. Born at home, on our sofa, completely unmedicated. Not even gas and air.
I consider myself deeply lucky, but I also know that luck had very little to do with it. I trusted my body, I trusted my team, and I trusted the process. Birth doesn’t have to be something you simply endure. With the right preparation and the right people beside you, it can be one of the most empowering, beautiful experiences of your entire life.
It’s exactly why I do what I do.
