Bailey's Birth Story

I can't quite believe I'm sitting here writing this almost a year later.

In some ways, it feels like Bailey was born yesterday. I can still remember the contractions, the smell of the birth pool, the car ride to the hospital and the moment I placed her on my chest. In other ways, it feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since then that it's hard to imagine there was ever a time when I didn't know her.

Before I became pregnant, I loved reading birth stories. During pregnancy, I probably read hundreds of them. Some were empowering, some were traumatic, some were funny and some made me cry. But what I loved most was seeing how different every single birth was.

Going into labour, I had my own hopes for how things might unfold.

I was planning a home birth with my incredible midwife Rachel. We'd hired a birth pool, I had been collecting colostrum for weeks and I felt genuinely excited for labour. Nervous, of course, but excited too. I trusted my body and felt ready to meet my baby.

As it turns out, Bailey had her own plans.

Looking back now, there were little signs that labour was approaching, although at the time I didn't realise they were signs at all.

The first signs

The first stage of labour actually started on the 17th of June.

That day felt pretty normal on the surface. I noticed feeling a little backache and crampy, but spent time with PJ and went about my day as usual. I'd really wanted Bailey to be born on the 18th of June, so in the evening we decided to try and kickstart labour with some spicy time and colostrum collection. Throughout the night I started having cramps that kept waking me up. They weren't particularly painful yet, but they felt different to anything I'd experienced before.

I noticed a shift in my energy.

It's hard to explain, but looking back now, I think some part of me knew things were beginning.

The next morning I woke up and, for whatever reason, decided I absolutely needed to bake a cake. They aren't lying when they say you get a weird energy burst before labour really starts. I baked the cake while PJ was preparing breakfast and we sat down to eat when I saw a swan family swimming by. It was the first time I'd ever seen baby swans and I thought to myself, this is a sign. Baby is coming today.

After breakfast we did a bit of cleaning around the house and then, around 10am, I lost my mucus plug. I was so excited and by that point I just knew. This is the beginning.

We decided to go to Chemist Warehouse, have lunch out and then head home to prep the space. That lunch ended up being the last proper meal I ate before having Bailey. My labour pattern was there, but not consistent enough to start timing anything yet.

We got home around 4ish and started setting up the birth pool. I prepared some more pads for the freezer, as my midwife had suggested, and then decided to jump into a hot shower around 6pm. The warmth felt amazing. I put on some music and danced around to get my happy hormones flowing.

Afterwards, I put on the TENS machine (this thing was an absolute lifesaver), made some popcorn, put on The Devil Wears Prada and started collecting colostrum. I didn't last long though, maybe an hour. The intensity ramped up quickly.

By 9pm I'd already used my heat pack, the TENS machine and labour combs, and I remember wondering why things were getting so painful so fast. PJ was trying to make dinner (he never actually got to eat the pasta) but I needed him constantly.

By 10pm I was struggling. I was mostly on all fours leaning over the couch while PJ did counter pressure on my back, which helped a bit. Eventually I went back to bed. The contractions were around three to four minutes apart and becoming increasingly difficult to manage.

I went back to bed. The contractions were 3–4 minutes apart, but they were becoming so painful. We called our midwife and she suggested getting into the shower, so I did and had a few surges there. The heat and water felt good, but didn't provide much relief and honestly, it wasn't very comfortable. We went back to bed, put the TENS machine back on and laboured there for another few hours. I was vomiting or dry reaching with almost every surge because the pain was so relentless and I could feel my patience wearing thinner and thinner as I couldn't see much progress. Little did I know that Bailey was posterior and would later have a mild shoulder dystocia.

The midwife decided to come and check in on us. It was around 11.30pm and she did the first check. She didn't tell me the result (thank goodness). PJ told me afterwards that I was only 3cm but fully effaced. Rachel immediately ordered PJ to start filling up the birth pool. That took three freaking hours because we'd run out of hot water and he had to boil pot after pot and use the kettle. It felt like terrible timing because I could have really used him while I was labouring. Rachel did some counter pressure and encouraged me to take micro naps whenever I had a break between contractions.

It was hard. The contractions were coming every minute for hours on end and they tripled. It wasn't one surge followed by a break. It was three surges back-to-back and then maybe a minute to recover before it all started again. I felt defeated and frustrated because it seemed like we weren't progressing.

By 2.45am the pool was finally ready and I was convinced it was going to be the thing that helped me relax. It did help for a little while, but not enough. The pain continued and by that stage I was so exhausted that I started micro napping after almost every surge. I could feel fear creeping in and my mind running through every possible scenario. I also noticed that I was struggling to stay relaxed. My body had started fighting the contractions rather than working with them.

I continued labouring until around 5am. Eventually I said to Rachel that I didn't think I could keep doing it much longer and asked if she could give me an idea of where I was at. Because she couldn't properly assess my cervix in the pool, I had to get out. I remember lying on the cold floor while she examined me. The examination hurt like hell and I was crying at that point. She also tried helping Bailey rotate because she could feel she was struggling to descend.

I was only 5cm.

I got back into the pool and we started talking about options. I asked Rachel how much longer she thought I had to go and she said it could be 2 hours or 12. That was the point where I felt like an absolute failure. Not because of the pain, but because I desperately wanted to birth Bailey at home. We'd paid a lot of money, I'd done all the preparation and spent months visualising this experience. I felt defeated and disappointed in my body. I was scared of interventions in the hospital setting, terrified of ending up with a C-section, and I knew I didn't have another 12 hours in me. I also intuitively knew that Bailey wasn't descending the way she should have been.

I thought through my options and shared with Rachel that I could feel my body wasn't relaxing anymore. Every surge was met with tension and it was making everything so much harder. I knew I wasn't going to progress if I couldn't relax, so around 5.30am I made the decision to transfer to hospital for an epidural.

Then everything became chaotic because — hello ADHD — we hadn't packed a bloody thing for the hospital. So I started directing PJ on what to grab while trying to get dressed between contractions. We put the TENS machine back on and left at 6.20am.

The car ride was about 20–25 minutes long and sitting upright was absolute torture. For the contractions I had in the car, I literally screamed my head off. It was unbelievably painful. By this point I was vomiting or dry reaching with almost every contraction and had brought my bucket with me.

When we arrived at the hospital, it took me what felt like forever to get to the maternity ward. Every time a contraction hit, I ended up on the floor. I was on the ground in the elevator, in the hallway and even in front of the reception desk before finally making it into the birthing suite.

Once inside, there was a midwife asking me questions, but I was completely in and out of it at that point. All I wanted was the epidural. She took some bloods, but what I remember most was that she was coughing constantly and sounded incredibly sick. I distinctly remember thinking, you're not delivering my baby. What are you even doing here? Go home and take your germs with you.

Thankfully there was a shift change shortly afterwards and we got an amazing midwife called Lily. I was instantly grateful. She had such a calm energy about her and ended up delivering Bailey.

Meanwhile, I was still in absolute agony. I tried the gas, but it immediately made me nauseous and I ended up vomiting again, so it definitely wasn't for me at that stage. I got back onto all fours, which was pretty much the only position I could labour in throughout the entire experience. I also started feeling like I needed to do a poo. I had one push surge and then another two after that.

At 7.10am I had a huge contraction and my waters finally broke. They checked me afterwards and I was 9cm dilated.

I honestly couldn't believe it.

After everything, after feeling like I wasn't progressing and transferring because I thought I still had forever to go, I was suddenly 9cm.

At 8am the anaesthetist finally arrived to place the epidural. I remember saying that I didn't want to be completely numb because I still wanted enough feeling to push. Getting the epidural was incredibly difficult because I was trying so hard to stay still while contractions were still rolling through. I was also convinced I was going to shit on the table.

Thankfully we managed to time it perfectly between contractions and the epidural went in successfully. It still took a good 30 minutes before I started feeling proper relief. During that time I gave the gas another go and found it much more helpful. I think once the contractions became less overwhelming, it stopped making me feel sick.

I was supposed to rest after that, and I genuinely tried, but I couldn't.

I was just too excited to finally meet her.

We started trial pushing around 10.45am. Initially I was on my back, which I absolutely hated, so we tried side-lying instead. That wasn't much better, but by this stage Bailey's head was descending and I could literally feel it. It was honestly the strangest feeling. I had so much control and absolutely no pain. It felt incredible.

Eventually I decided I didn't like either position, so I simply flipped myself onto all fours. The funny part is that the epidural actually came out when I did that.

We waited for the next contraction and when it came, I slowly started pushing her head out. Once her head was born there was a bit of a stall. I pushed again, but she was stuck. One of the senior midwives told me to put my leg into a lunge position, which I did. She then helped rotate Bailey and guided her out before passing her through my legs to me.

I had really wanted PJ to catch her himself, but because she was a little stuck they needed to help guide her out safely.

At 11.28am, Bailey June was born.

She was quiet for a few seconds and then let out the biggest cry. It was the most euphoric and beautiful moment of my life so far.

I burst into tears immediately. Happy tears.

I looked at her and remember thinking, how was she inside me? How is she this beautiful? And how did I just survive all of that?

Later I asked PJ what he was feeling in that moment and he said he was amazed that she was finally here. Relieved that labour was over and that we were both safe. Completely mind-blown by what we'd created and incredibly proud of me for getting through such a long and difficult labour.

I turned myself around and lay back in bed, putting Bailey on my chest for the first time. I really wanted to do the golden hour and Bailey latched for the first time shortly afterwards. Weird feeling, to be honest.

While we soaked in those first moments together, they checked me for tears and found a graze and a minor second-degree tear that was straight. We discussed my options and I decided not to get stitches and let it heal naturally instead. (It healed so quickly!)

We also talked about the placenta birth and what I wanted to do with it. I declined the injection and wanted my body to birth the placenta naturally so I could have it encapsulated afterwards. The midwife explained that hospital policy gave me about an hour to birth it. After around half an hour she suggested moving into a squat position to let gravity help. I pushed once and the placenta came out.

I remember feeling the energy in the room shift almost instantly. It was like a wave of relief rolled through my entire body.

They inspected the placenta and it appeared complete. I was absolutely stunned by how big it was. I felt so grateful and proud of my body for what it had created — not just Bailey, but the placenta too. I genuinely felt like Superwoman in those first few hours after birth.

Once the golden hour was over they completed Bailey's newborn checks and I literally stood up, walked myself to the shower and had a shower in the birth suite. Looking back now, it's actually quite funny that the epidural came out when it did because it lasted exactly long enough to cover the birth and gave me the ability to shower afterwards.

I was a little sad it had already come out though because I started feeling pain fairly quickly. For some reason I had the worst afterbirth contractions, especially whenever Bailey latched. We ended up staying in hospital for a couple of nights for pain management and recovery.

As we left the hospital on the evening of day two, I remember feeling completely overwhelmed. Fragile. Emotional. Excited. Terrified.

This was the beginning of postpartum.

Looking back at this whole journey still makes me cry. It was raw, exhausting, intense and nothing like I had planned or envisioned. Yet somehow it was healing in its own way.

It healed my fear of hospitals, at least a little. The maternity care I received was outstanding, and getting the epidural ended up being one of the best decisions I could have made for myself in that moment. It allowed me to relax, meet my daughter with excitement rather than fear and ultimately enjoy the final chapter of her birth.

What Bailey's birth taught me is that birth doesn't always go according to plan, and that's okay. Sometimes things unfold differently than we imagined and sometimes the decisions we never thought we'd make end up being exactly the right ones.

If there's one thing I would tell my pregnant self now, it's this: stay open. Trust yourself. Trust your instincts. And remember that the goal was never the perfect birth.

The goal was always Bailey.

And after everything, I would go through it all again for her.