Matilda's birth story

Before my first birth, I felt prepared. I had researched hypnobirthing, read about home birth and spoken to friends who had had positive experiences. I had a very clear picture in my head of how I wanted my birth to be.

More than anything, I wanted to avoid a caesarean. I had read about the cascade of interventions and felt that giving birth at home would give me the best chance of avoiding unnecessary intervention.

The first part of my labour actually went beautifully. I laboured at home for around eight hours and felt that everything was progressing well. But when I reached around 10cm, things suddenly changed.

There was a midwife shift change and the new midwives didn't know the journey I had been on or necessarily share my approach to birth. They became nervous about continuing with a home birth and decided I needed to transfer to hospital. I remember feeling as though control had suddenly been taken away from me.

Once we arrived at hospital, everything became very different from what I had imagined. I had an episiotomy, forceps and a ventouse, and I also experienced a haemorrhage. Although I avoided the caesarean I had been so afraid of, the birth was still incredibly traumatic.

I didn't feel listened to. I didn't feel involved in the decisions being made. Most importantly, I didn't feel like I had given birth to my baby. I felt as though birth had simply happened to me.

The months that followed were incredibly difficult. I experienced PTSD and significant postpartum anxiety. I was constantly worried about my baby, even though he was healthy and happy. I would Google things in the middle of the night, check that he was breathing every few minutes and lie awake watching him because I was convinced something terrible was going to happen.

I became incredibly protective. I struggled to let other people hold him because I felt that it was my responsibility to protect him from anything that could possibly go wrong.

For a long time, I genuinely believed I would never have another child.

It wasn't just the thought of going through labour again that frightened me. I was scared that I might nearly die again and that my son could be left without his mum. I had always imagined having two children, so there was also a real sense of grief. I felt as though I was mourning the family I had wanted.

Over time though, I began to process what had happened.

One of the most helpful things I did was a birth reflection. Going back through the birth chronologically helped me understand what had happened and, importantly, helped me realise that it wasn't my fault.

I also had EMDR therapy during my second pregnancy, which helped me work through some of the trauma associated with the first birth. It wasn't always easy but gradually I began to feel that the memories had less power over me.

Then, around two years after my son was born, I became pregnant again. I was excited but I was also terrified. This time, I knew I needed to approach birth differently.

I decided that I didn't want another home birth. I couldn't face the possibility of another late transfer or ambulance journey while fully dilated. Instead, I chose a midwife-led birth unit. It felt like the middle ground I needed: a calm, private and homely environment, but with the reassurance of being close to labour ward if anything changed.

My preparation was also very different.

I created a detailed birth plan based on what I had learned from my first birth. I wanted to avoid internal examinations, listen to my body rather than be guided by cervical dilation, choose my own pain relief and be left alone as much as possible. I wanted the team to understand my previous birth and my triggers before I was in labour, so I wouldn't have to explain everything while trying to give birth.

And this time, I had a doula.

That made a huge difference.

Rachel knew my history, understood what I was frightened of and knew my birth plan. I didn't have to spend valuable energy explaining myself or advocating for myself. I could concentrate on what my body was doing.

My husband could also simply be my husband. He could support me physically and emotionally without having to remember every detail of my birth preferences or worry about speaking for me.

When labour eventually started, I wasn't even convinced it was real at first!

I'd been having mild cramps every evening for about a week, so when contractions started around 9 or 9:30pm, I assumed it was another false start. I carried on doing things around the house, taking the bins out, unloading the dishwasher and folding washing.

Eventually though, the contractions became stronger and closer together. I still didn't think I was very far along, but when I got into the shower, I suddenly realised I couldn't manage on my own anymore.

We made our way to hospital in the early hours of the morning. The roads were icy and the journey was difficult but when we arrived I was still chatting, eating snacks and feeling relatively calm.

Then everything changed.

When I entered the birth room, I suddenly felt the need to get down onto my hands and knees. I became very inward and told my husband and Rachel that I didn't think I could talk anymore.

I remember feeling completely primal. I wasn't thinking about what was happening around me. I was simply in my own world, working with my body.

The midwives started filling the birthing pool, which had always been part of my plan. But my baby was coming much faster than anyone expected.

At one point, they turned the tap off because it was clear I wasn't going to have time to get into the pool. I immediately came out of my inward state and demanded to know why they had stopped the water!

Looking back, it makes me laugh a little. But it was also a really important moment. My midwife understood that the water itself wasn't actually the important part. It represented what I had planned and what made me feel safe and in control. She turned it back on and I was able to settle back into my own space.