My birth experience...

I gave birth to my baby, Ruby, in July 2025. She's an absolute dreamboat and both mummy, and baby (and daddy for that matter), are thriving at the moment.

However, my birth was extremely traumatic and what followed a week later even more so, to the point I ended up being sectioned under the Mental Health Act.

To put it into context, I'll start at the beginning...

In 2023, myself and my partner, Dave, decided we wanted to try for a baby. I was deep in the realms of training for a Hyrox competition and we agreed that we'd begin properly trying after the comp, which was scheduled for January 2024. However, after a relaxing holiday to Thailand at the end of November 2023, I fell pregnant in December.

Far from being perfect timing, I decided to pull out of Hyrox, just to be safe. I then suffered a miscarriage, two days before the event, and my whole life was turned upside down.

Defiant and in a state of anger at my own body for failing to provide the perfect conditions for my child, I went and competed in Hyrox, two days after miscarrying, and despite still bleeding and still suffering psychologically, I got a great time and was proud of myself for pulling my body round the course and finishing what I started. But it meant nothing really. Life meant nothing at that stage.

Three months later in April 2025, I quit my job as chief reporter on the Lancashire Telegraph (a really stressful and angst-ridden role) and took the dive into teaching yoga full time. This was never the life plan, or never the immediate life plan should I say (the thought of teaching full time and having my own yoga studio some day was floating around my mind, but I never thought it would be now that the journey began), but the miscarriage put a few things into perspective, and I came to the conclusion that slowing down and having less stress and anxiety in my life was the way forward.

Skip to November 2024 and we found out I was pregnant again, and this time, things felt a lot different. I initially had reservations about bringing a child into the world having only just launched my own business and gone self-employed; and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about being able to make it work financially. But six months into teaching full time, I knew I was earning enough to get by; I was in a really good place mentally and physically, and we both knew that this time would be the right time.

My pregnancy going forward was an absolute breeze - I was guiding other pregnant ladies through their journeys as I taught pregnancy yoga; I was keeping myself fit and active by going to the gym four times a week; I was teaching a practice that I loved to dozens of yogis each week, and I believed, with a full heart, that my birth would be as dreamy as my pregnancy, and I would bring our baby into the world in a peaceful, calm and amazing way.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

My due date was July 6th 2025, but Ruby decided to make an appearance four days later, in the most dramatic and unconventional way; and in a period of 24 hours it felt like my world had been shaken upside down and inside out.

I had wanted a natural vaginal birth, in the pool, at the birth centre in Preston. I believed my body was capable of birthing my child, and everything leading up to Ruby's journey earthside had pointed in the right direction - I'd had no complications or issues whatsoever, and she had been head down, and front to back for around six-weeks, so I assumed this would still be the case when I started to experience contractions and went into labour.

I lost my mucus plug on the Wednesday morning and started with contractions that lunch time. My waters hadn't broken but I wasn't too worried as I knew they could break at any stage of labour, including right up until the last minute. However, I couldn't really feel Ruby moving anymore and was concerned, so I called Dave and he finished work early and came home. We went to hospital that afternoon and I was placed under observation for reduced foetal movements, however everything appeared fine, and we were sent home and told to monitor my contractions and come back to hospital when I was experiencing three contractions every 10 minutes.

Things then started to ramp up. My contractions became stronger and more painful, and despite trying to stay at home, riding each wave and taking each minute at a time, having a bath, and putting all my yogic knowledge to the test by using my birthing ball and focusing on my breathing, things just didn't feel right. I knew in my very being that this wasn't what I thought it would be, it was too painful, and something felt off, and so we went back to hospital around 1am on Thursday, with my contractions now three in every 12 minutes, and causing me a lot of pain.

When we arrived at the hospital, we were told the birth centre was closed. I immediately started to fret, as this is where I'd wanted to birth Ruby and not having that option available to me anymore was worrying. However, the midwives found me a room on the maternity ward that had a pool in it, and so I was able to start my labour official by being in the water.

I got changed, popped my playlist on, submerged myself in the warm water, and started on gas and air almost immediately, as the pain was pretty bad by this point. Despite this pain, I was determined to have a water birth and still had hope that things would go my way. What felt like hours passed, and after our lovely midwife checked my dilation, it became clear to me, again, that something wasn't right. I was only 5cm dilated after more than 12 hours of experiencing contractions. The contractions were becoming unbearable, and my waters still hadn't broken. I had lost all sense of time by this point, but I knew it was close to morning, and so around 8am, or maybe earlier, a decision was made to force break my waters.

With my waters broken, I still believed I could birth Ruby in the pool and expected my dilation to increase to 10cm in no time at all. But that's not what happened. I was told by our midwife, Meg, that Ruby was back to back, which is why I was in so much pain, and had pooed inside me, which was really dangerous for Ruby, as inhaling her own faeces could be poisonous. It also became apparent that Ruby was in a bit of distress, so we needed to hurry the labour along.

After a couple more hours, I was still only 5cm dilated and by this point the contractions had become excruciating, my breathing had gone out the window, and I was not enjoying what I thought would be a wonderful experience. I was told it would be better for me to get out of the pool and be administered diamorphine to ease the pain and hopefully allow me to become more dilated. I felt deflated and upset, as I'd banked on giving birth in water, and as this was no longer an option, the tears came, and I could feel the overwhelming sense of anxiety creeping upon me once more.

The diamorphine was insane however - I lost all feeling and went away with the fairies, and found myself laughing at the smallest thing, and not making much sense in conversation. I'm unsure how long I was in cloud cuckoo land for, but when I reached 8cm dilation after what felt like an eternity, and still wasn't allowed to push, things took a turn for the worse.

All of a sudden there were more people in the room, several doctors, nurses and surgeons, and I was told I'd need to be taken to theatre. The plan was to give me an epidural, then an episiotomy (a cut) and pull Ruby out using forceps as she had become more distressed and the risk of her inhaling her own poo had also increased.

I began to cry as I felt that everything had gone wrong. I was worried for my baby and I was worried about my own disposition too as my anxiety was sky high. Poor Dave had no idea what was going on. He went to the bathroom and as he returned had a set of scrubs thrust in his face and was told to make his way down to the operating theatre. This was really traumatic for him, to see me hooked and wired up to an operating bed, with my legs in the air and tears streaming down my face. It was only afterwards that he told me he thought I was going to die, something that still breaks my heart whenever I think about it.

My worst fears had come true by this point though - I was hooked up to monitors, with wires coming out of me, a catheter and cannula inserted, a needle in my back and my legs in stirrups - it was exactly what I had not wanted to happen and the complete opposite of the birth experience I imagined. I was becoming more hysterical as I was worried about Ruby being hurt and there being long lasting damage to her, but in all honesty, once the epidural kicked in, and once I had been cut down there, it literally took two big pushes from me and the surgeons had Ruby out in a flash.

The worry didn't subside immediately though as I hadn't heard her cry. After what felt like an eternity, and after a short panic when I saw an oxygen mask being placed over our baby's mouth, she eventually cried and was placed in my arms for us to marvel at our beautiful creation.

Relief swept over us both, and even though we'd been utterly overwhelmed and over stimulated throughout the whole process, feeling every emotion over the last 24 hours and riding every wave with a mix of terror and excitement, we were ready to begin our new lives as a threesome.

Because of the nature of the delivery, and because my temperature had sky-rocketed, we were kept in hospital overnight for observation and monitoring, and finally allowed home on the Friday evening.

My birth experience had been far from what I'd wanted or hoped for, and I was still in for a rough ride as little did I know that a week later I would be getting sectioned under the Mental Health Act (I will write about this in a separate blog post) but the care and attention I received from all the staff at the hospital, especially the midwives, was amazing. I couldn't have wished for better to be honest, and want to take this opportunity to thank them all for their help and support.

In the not so distant past, I thought I'd never get the chance to become a mother, or a partner to such a wonderful man, and for so long all I'd ever wanted was the 'mortgage, marriage, and kids' life. I now had all that, and more, and becoming a mum felt wonderful, despite the pain and the unconventional way Ruby entered the world.

I promised myself when I quit my job as a journalist that I'd never stop writing, as putting pen to paper has always brought me so much joy. And following Ruby's birth I knew the experience was one I just had to share with others. There's a lot of information available these days about pregnancy, labour, and birth, and while there's an emphasis on the promotion of positive, healthy births, I believe the traumatic ones should be spoken about too.

So like I have mentioned before in my social media posts, and on the landing page of this blog, I want my story to provide encouragement and support to others, to raise awareness and provide hope and solidarity to those women who may have had similar birth experiences to me, and to let them know they're not alone.