When I was pregnant with my first baby, I had a clear vision for birth.
I hoped for a spontaneous labour, minimal intervention and a straightforward path to meeting my baby.
At 40 weeks pregnant, things changed.
I received a phone call advising me to come into hospital that evening to begin an induction due to concerns about my baby’s growth and placental function.
Suddenly, I found myself confronting everything I had hoped to avoid.
Yet what followed taught me one of the most important lessons I now share with families preparing for birth:
Preparation does not guarantee a particular birth experience—but it can profoundly shape how you move through it.
Birth is mysterious. There is no certainty in how it unfolds.
But there is so much you can do to prepare.
This is my story.
Receiving the Call: When Birth Didn’t Follow the Plan
I was 40 weeks to the day and, after weeks of minimal change in my fundal height measurements (a way of assessing baby’s growth), I was advised to have an ultrasound to assess growth and placental function.
Later that day, I received a call from the obstetric registrar with the results. I was advised to come into the birthing unit that evening to begin the induction process.
My mind went into a spin.
I wanted a natural birth. No intervention. No pain relief. I didn’t want a caesarean. I wanted to go home with my husband and baby shortly after the birth.
I floundered around until my husband came home. I looked at him—strong, steady and calm—and he said the words I needed to hear:
“We need to meet each step as it comes. We don’t know what is ahead, but we have got this.”
I could breathe again.
Returning to What We Had Prepared For
You see, the Calmbirth® program is designed for couples and support people to prepare for birth together.
This is exactly what we had done in the weeks between attending the course and this moment.
Evenings together doing guided relaxations. Practising breathing techniques. Revisiting our birth wishes and discussing how we would work together.
As my pregnancy progressed, evenings were spent practising acupressure points and massage techniques.
It was a beautiful time of connection, excitement and absolute longing to meet our baby.
So, on that night, hearing those words from my husband, I came back to what I knew.
I knew how to breathe.
I knew how to return to the present moment.
From then on, it became about meeting each thing one moment at a time.
Labour Begins: Drawing on Our Calmbirth® Tools
To my relief, I was already 1–2 centimetres dilated that evening.
The prostaglandin used to help ripen my cervix was given and we settled in for whatever rest would come.
It was exciting feeling my body respond with period-like pain and tightenings through the night.
My husband held me, brought heat packs and was tuned in to whatever I might need next.
The next morning, when my waters were broken, my contractions immediately increased in frequency and intensity.
Together we drew on all the tools we had learnt.
We breathed.
We moved.
We rocked.
We connected.
We laughed.
It was joyful.
My husband applied pressure to acupressure points to support contractions, while I maintained an inward focus on my breath to quieten my chatty mind.
Despite our efforts, my contractions eased and it became clear I would need the next step in the induction process:
Syntocinon (synthetic oxytocin).
Meeting Intervention One Step at a Time
As each contraction came, I stood and rocked my pelvis in circular motions.
It was instinctual and rhythmic, helping me focus inwards.
Again and again, my breath became the resource I drew on most.
My husband applied pressure to my sacral acupressure points.
He was there for every contraction.
I couldn’t do this without him.
In the background I could hear my baby’s heart galloping away on the CTG machine.
As the syntocinon increased every half hour, I found myself mentally tiring, although the contractions remained manageable with long, slow breaths.
I used different positions to rest—on the birth ball and on all fours.
Between his acupressure duties, my husband provided drinks, light touch massage, encouragement and some memorable humour.
We were doing this together.
Transition: Knowing I Was Close
Then something changed.
A change that I intuitively knew meant I was getting close to meeting my baby.
It was subtle.
Not the screamingly intense representations you often see in movies.
It was in the realisation that the acupressure points were no longer effective.
It was in the feeling of wanting to keep exhaling… and then exhale a little more.
It was in hearing the words escape my mouth:
“I don’t know how much more of this I can do.”
The midwife in me wondered:
Was this transition?
Yes.
I was 8 centimetres dilated and with the next contraction, I was pushing.
Deep, involuntary urges from within that I couldn’t suppress.
Was that really me? my chatty mind would say.
There was no stopping this.
Then came the strange, uncomfortable sensation of a bowling ball moving through my pelvis.
That was the image I had at the time.
Strange.
Intense.
But not painful.
I couldn’t believe it.
“I’ve Got a Baby”: Meeting Our Son
Before I knew it, our midwife was saying to my husband:
“Are you ready to catch your baby?”
My mind was saying:
Are you sure?
Then there was my baby’s head.
And in the next push, out slipped our baby.
“I’ve got a baby! I’ve got a baby! I’ve got a baby!”
I cried the words over and over.
I knew I sounded ridiculous—of course it was a baby!
But what ecstasy there was in having our exquisitely soft, wet, slippery baby on my chest.
We had done it.
We had done this together.
My husband and I.
Working together to bring our darling baby boy into our arms.
What My First Birth Taught Me About Preparing for Birth
Looking back, my first birth wasn’t the birth I had imagined.
It was something else entirely.
It was a birth where preparation became my anchor.
Where intervention became part of the story.
Where my husband and I worked as a team.
Where confidence and joy still existed alongside uncertainty.
Now, as I support families preparing for birth through Calmbirth® each month, this is what I share:
Learn your tools. Practise them. Trust them.
Preparation does not remove unpredictability.
But it can help you meet the unknown with greater calm, confidence and connection.
Whatever birthing journey comes your way—
Meet it one moment at a time.
You have got this.
If you’d like to prepare for birth in all its forms, explore upcoming Calmbirth® classes on the Central Coast and learn practical tools to support confidence, informed decision-making and connection throughout your birth journey.