What 37 Births Have Taught Me About Trusting Women

Every so often someone lands on my Instagram page and decides they've got me figured out.

"She's the freebirth doula."

"She only supports low-risk women."

"Well of course her statistics look like that, she probably only works with uncomplicated pregnancies."

I always laugh a little because the reality couldn't be further from the truth.

Over the last two years I've supported 37 families through pregnancy, birth and postpartum, and almost every single one of those women came to me because somebody else had told them what they couldn't do. They'd been labelled high risk, advised against home birth, encouraged towards induction, warned off a VBAC or made to feel like their body had somehow become less trustworthy because of a previous experience or a guideline on a piece of paper.

Looking back over those births, the statistics are fascinating.

Fifteen babies were born at home, ten of those were freebirths. Four women had successful VBACs and two welcomed their babies through HBACs. Thirty-three babies found the breast within the first hour of life, the earliest arrived at 35 weeks, the latest waited until 44 weeks and 5 days, the smallest weighed 5lb 5oz and the biggest 9lb 11oz. My earliest client booked me before she was even pregnant and my latest found me at 39 weeks, desperate for someone to help her navigate the final days of pregnancy.

But there is one statistic that stands out above all the others.

Thirty-three spontaneous labours.

People often assume that must be because I only work with women who have straightforward pregnancies, but the opposite is actually true. Most of the women who find me are carrying labels. Previous caesareans. Twins. Advanced maternal age. Declining induction. Going beyond 42 weeks. Planning birth outside NHS guidance. Consultant-led care. Women who have spent months being told that their pregnancy is somehow different, complicated or dangerous.

The difference isn't that they're low risk.

The difference is that they are informed.

The women who hire me tend to fall into one of two groups. They're either first-time mothers who have spent months learning about physiological birth and genuinely trust that babies know how to be born, or they're women who have already experienced induction and the cascade of interventions that followed and have decided they want to approach this pregnancy differently.

They've already lived the endless monitoring, the synthetic contractions, the feeling that birth was happening to them rather than through them. They don't come to me because they want a freebirth or a home birth. They come because they want to understand their options, ask better questions and make decisions that feel right for their family instead of decisions driven by fear.

That doesn't mean intervention never happens.

Among those 37 births were two planned caesareans, one forceps birth, one spontaneous labour that ended in an unplanned caesarean and one unplanned caesarean following induction. Three families transferred from home to hospital for pain relief, and I genuinely love that statistic because it perfectly demonstrates what birth should be about.

Choice.

Changing your mind isn't failure. Accepting an epidural isn't failure. Walking into hospital after planning a home birth isn't failure. Success isn't measured by where a baby is born or whether every line on a birth plan happened exactly as imagined. Success is a woman making informed decisions throughout her labour and feeling respected while doing so.

Another statistic I'm particularly proud of is the number of VBACs I've supported. Birth after caesarean is something I care deeply about, which is why I've undertaken specialist training with The VBAC Hub, check them out here https://thevbachub.co.uk/

Too many women are told that one caesarean means they can no longer trust their bodies, when the evidence tells a much more balanced story. Women deserve conversations based on research, not fear, and support that honours whatever decision they make.

Perhaps the biggest lesson these 37 births have taught me is that being labelled "high risk" doesn't automatically mean birth is high risk. A guideline isn't a law, a hospital policy isn't personalised care and a risk assessment designed for a population can never replace an individual conversation about an individual woman.

I've watched women who were told they needed induction go into spontaneous labour. I've watched women who were told they couldn't birth vaginally after caesarean hold their babies in their own arms after an incredible VBAC. I've watched women who had spent months doubting themselves suddenly realise that they were the expert on their own body all along.

I'm not interested in convincing every woman to birth at home or avoid intervention. I'm interested in making sure she knows she has choices, understands the evidence and feels supported to make decisions that align with her own values.

When I look back at these 37 births, I don't really see statistics.

I see thirty-seven women who refused to hand over their autonomy.

Thirty-seven families who asked questions instead of accepting "because that's our policy."

Thirty-seven babies who arrived in thirty-seven completely different ways.

And thirty-seven reminders that when women are trusted, informed and genuinely supported, they are capable of extraordinary things.

That's the kind of birth work I'm proud to be part of.