Chloe’s Birth Story
Nearly five months ago, I gave birth to my son. He was almost two weeks overdue, and I had spent my whole pregnancy preparing—reading about hypnobirthing, doing all the exercises to help him engage, and immersing myself in a world of home birth and gentle birth techniques. As my due date came and went, I grew impatient and tried everything to encourage labour naturally—Miles Circuit, dates, and sweeps—hoping to avoid induction.
I delayed induction twice, and two days after my last sweep, contractions started in the night. I was surprised by how intense they were right from the beginning, so I used my TENS machine and tried to rest. But despite my efforts, my contractions never quite established a steady rhythm. By Saturday evening, I was exhausted and eager to get to the hospital, but when I was assessed, I was only 1 to 2cm dilated. They gave me some pain relief, and I went home, spending the night in the bath, breathing through each surge.
By Sunday, contractions were still intense but still not progressing. I was admitted that evening for induction on the midwife led unit, but as soon as I was hooked up to monitoring, they noticed my baby’s heart rate was dropping with contractions. That meant I had to be moved to the labour ward, where they broke my waters. There was blood and meconium in the fluid. I laboured with gas and air for two hours, but when I was assessed for the hormone drip, I was only four cm dilated—and then my baby’s heart rate dropped for five minutes.
Everything moved so fast. I was rushed to theatre, and my husband wasn’t allowed to come in at first. He was left alone in the room while I was being prepped, and I was told I might need a general anaesthetic. But then, my baby’s heart rate stabilised, and I was able to have a spinal block instead.When I heard those two things—that my husband could come in and I wouldn’t need to be put under—I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. After forty eight hours of labour, I was relieved. Apparently, I was even joking with the anaesthetist while they prepped for surgery.
I had made it clear that I wanted my baby on my chest as soon as possible, and the team listened to me. The moment he was placed on me was everything. We had the most beautiful hour together bonding and feeding.
Recovery wasn’t as hard as I’d expected—it was painful, but in reality, I was spending most of my time on the sofa with my baby anyway. Looking back, I wish I’d asked for pain relief sooner, and I wish I’d been more confident in what I knew about myself.
I know from my personality that I’m not someone who feels super relaxed at home—not for any particular reason, just because I’ve always been wired that way. I wish I hadn’t been so resistant to a medicalised environment because, in reality, I had so much peace of mind on the labour ward. I had to work through feelings of ‘failure’ because I hadn’t succeeded in labouring in a non medicalised environment.
I had spent so much time preparing for birth in a way that aligned with the idea of ‘physiological birth’ that I didn’t stop to consider myself—what I needed to feel safe, what environments I naturally felt calm in. Hypnobirthing was still so valuable—it helped me cope with pain and understand what was happening in my body. But I also learned that birth preparation isn’t just about knowing how birth works—it’s about knowing yourself.
One of the most useful things I did was take a course that prepared me for how many people would be in the room for a C section. When I was wheeled into theatre, I wasn’t overwhelmed because I already knew what to expect. That knowledge gave me so much reassurance.
Birth didn’t go how I imagined—but nothing compared to the feeling of finally meeting my baby.