Today I want to share something personal: my two births. Every birth is different, and mine isn't a rulebook. But stories have a way of making things feel possible.
My first baby: the hospital
I was so excited to meet Valentina, and so scared to give birth. Fear guided my whole pregnancy, so I did what was recommended to me without asking many questions. I didn't know there was another way.
I felt uneasy at every hospital check-up, and that was a red flag I pushed away. I was induced early. My body wasn't ready, and labor was long, with lots of medication. When it was finally time to push, I had to hold her back until the doctor arrived at 2:30 am.
It felt clinical and cold. Then the drugs finally wore off, and I was overjoyed with love and the beauty of my baby girl.
Vale is the reason I made different choices for her sister, and why I'm writing this to you.
My second baby: at home
The morning Mila was born felt completely ordinary: coffee, my weekly 45-minute walk, lunch, my daily stretches. When a little cramping started, I barely noticed. I was sure this baby would take at least two more weeks.
In the afternoon I suddenly wanted a bath, after nine months of zero interest. (My midwives laughed later: that's their number one sign a woman is in labor.) Letting the warm water hold my belly felt amazing.
By dinner the "period cramps" made me pause now and then, but I was still laughing at my husband's jokes. I breathed through each wave the way I'd practiced for four months and told him, "We'll probably have a baby tomorrow."
Mila had other plans. By 8:30 my midwife Sarah was with us, pressing my hips exactly where I needed it, while my hypnobirthing tracks played. When a moment of fear came ("I'm not a marathon runner!"), my husband said, "You totally are. You trained for this." That was all I needed. My body was made for this. I just had to let it.
I stood up, held on to the headboard, and let my body push. The ring of fire is real, but it lasted seconds. Then, swoosh, Mila arrived, eyes wide open, looking around the room. So awake. So beautiful.
She nursed in my arms for 45 minutes. I felt tired, hungry and so, so happy. There was intensity, yes, but I never felt like I was suffering, because every wave brought her closer to me. I felt in complete power the entire time.
That's the birth story I'll be telling for the rest of my life.
What I'd tell my first-time self
If something feels off, even if you can't put it into words yet, pause. Write it down. Ask questions. There's almost always another way. We live in a modern world with ancient instincts, so listen to yours. ❤️
I'm sharing this not to say a hospital is wrong. For some women and some pregnancies, it's exactly the right place, and I'm grateful it exists. I'm sharing it because no one told me I had another option until my second pregnancy. I want you to know sooner.
More stories are coming. In the weekly Born in the Nest letter, I'll share calm, real stories from other mothers: home births, birth center births, and births where plans changed and still felt good. Always gentle, never scary.
Have a story to share? If you've given birth at home or in a birth center and would like to help another mom feel braver, just write to me at hello@borninthenest.com. I'll always ask your permission before sharing anything, and I can keep your name private.
