Empowered & Home: The Birth of Arlo

I want to start by saying something I never thought I would say: I loved being in labour.
I have never in my life felt so powerful and so vulnerable all at once. I was completely in control, yet I surrendered fully to the power that overcame me each time. And in that balance—between strength and surrender—I found myself.
My labour wasn’t just empowering because it ended with my Arlo in my arms. It was empowering because of the trust I had in my body, the calm I held in my mind, and the love that surrounded me. Hypnobirthing gave me the knowledge and tools, but it was the release of fear that gave me the freedom to embrace every moment.
The contractions were strong. At times, they were utterly exhausting. But I was never afraid. I didn’t want them to stop. Each contraction brought me closer to meeting Arlo. This is the story of how he came earthside—at home.

It Began Quietly

At 4 p.m. on the 19th of November, I felt what I thought were period-like cramps low in my belly. I didn’t think much of them at first; I stayed relaxed and comfortable, riding the waves as they came and went. Curiosity got the better of me eventually, and I began timing them on an app.
By 11 p.m., I managed to drift off to sleep between them, but by 1:30 a.m., they became too strong to ignore. I woke, made myself a cup of tea, and quietly listened to my relaxation tracks while bouncing gently on my yoga ball. I noticed I was losing my mucus plug during those quiet early hours—but still, some part of me was in denial. Surely this wasn’t it?

From 1:30 a.m. until mid-afternoon, the contractions came and went. They varied in timing, from 2 minutes apart to 12. Each one lasted over 45 seconds, but I was still convinced it wasn’t really labour. I carried on with my day as normally as I could, focusing on boosting my oxytocin—staying calm, relaxed, and moving gently in my safe space.
I even went to my 40-week midwife appointment at 11:30 a.m., politely declining the offer of a sweep or to book an induction. My baby knew the way, and I trusted my body to follow.

Home Felt Safe

After the appointment, I called my mum and asked her to come over. We decided on a short walk, but we didn’t get far—just a few hundred metres around the estate. I had to stop several times, leaning in, focusing on my breathing, and swaying through the contraction. Yet in between them, I felt completely fine. Calm. Ready.
Back home, we created a space of complete peace. Relaxation music filled the air. Lavender and sparkly fairy lights soothed my senses. I moved in whatever way felt right for my body. I sipped water, nibbled on flapjacks, and—on a whim—put on my TENS machine around 2 p.m. I thought I’d try it for a bit, but it worked so well I ended up keeping it on until I got in the pool later. (In hindsight, I should’ve used it earlier—but I was coping incredibly well and didn’t realise how far along I was!) The boost button was magic. It was my little secret weapon.

By 3 p.m., I knew things were shifting. I texted Dan at work and told him it was time to come home. By the time he arrived at 4 p.m., things were progressing beautifully. Mum called the midwives, and Dan got to work filling the pool and creating our birth space. He dimmed the lights, placed the tea lights and fairy lights around the room, sprayed calming oils, and brought in a fan when I started having hot flushes and waves of nausea.
Our home felt safe. I was held. I was ready.

The Intensity of labour

At 5 p.m., the first midwife arrived. She smiled warmly and told me how amazing I was doing. Shortly after, the second midwife and a student midwife joined us.
One of my birth preferences was that I be asked before any examinations—and they honoured that completely. My mum checked in with me, and between contractions, I agreed to be examined. I was 5 cm. They could already feel Arlo’s head.
Shortly after, everything intensified. I asked for the gas and air but hesitated about whether I should save getting in the pool for later. Luckily, Dan had already half-filled it. He knew. He must have known we were so close to meeting Arlo.

I got into the water, and it was heaven. Warm, weightless, safe. I took up the gas and air and became vocal—so much louder than I ever imagined I’d be! I roared through each contraction, embracing the intensity, repeating my affirmations in my head and aloud:
These contractions are bringing my baby to me.
My body knows how to birth my baby.
All the strength I need is within me.
I could see those affirmations too—on the bookshelf in Arlo’s room, where we had planned for this moment. They anchored me. Reminded me. Kept me going.

Between contractions, I rested, melting back into the water as if it were a hot tub, shaking out my face to release any tension. Finding my breath again before the next contraction rose up.
And when it did, I jumped forward, leaning over the side of the pool, grabbing hold of my mum, who was right there with me. I used the gas and air and surrendered completely to my body. The midwives were so gentle, encouraging me with soft words: “You’re doing beautifully. We can see him. His eyes are open.”
They told me to lift myself slightly, and as I did, they passed him under my legs and into my arms.

We Did It

Arlo was here.
We delayed clamping until his cord stopped pulsing, and then Dan held him skin to skin while I birthed the placenta and had a few stitches. I was exhausted but riding the most incredible high. I remember thinking That was so cool. I want to do it again.

Later, after breastfeeding support and our post-birth checks, we were tucked up in our own bed—safe, warm, and complete. Just the three of us.
I held Arlo close and whispered to him, “We did it. I knew we could do it. You’re so clever.”
And I meant it. Every word. I was, and still am, in awe of us both.

I am forever grateful for the mindset work, the preparation, and the deep trust I had in my baby, my body, and my birth team.
This was, without a doubt, the most empowering, transformative experience of my life.
And that’s why I’m sharing this now—because I want that same feeling for you. However, and wherever you birth your baby, you deserve to feel this power too.