Caitlin's Birth of Kai

Caitlin's Homebirth Story

Written by Caitlin and originally published to Birth Your Way.

Photography by Sarah Del Borrello (Mother Mother Doula)

I’m so honoured to share Caitlin’s powerful homebirth story here, in her own words. Originally published on her beautiful new blog Birth Your Way, this story is a heartfelt glimpse into her experience of intuitive, supported birth.

Caitlin created Birth Your Way as a space for women to connect through storytelling, tune into their own wisdom, and be reminded that they have choices in birth. It’s a blog built on truth, reflection, and the belief that when women are seen, informed and supported—they birth differently.

Visit Birth Your Way here.

On the 23rd of January 2025, at 11:58 pm, I met my beautiful baby boy, Kai, after an incredible 41-hour labour — a journey that tested every part of me and brought me to a place of strength I never knew I had.

This was my first pregnancy, and like many first-time mums, I initially believed birth had to happen in a hospital. Homebirth sounded a bit scary at first—something I thought you only did if you were super brave or a bit wild. But the more I researched, the more I realised birth wasn’t something that had to be medicalised. It could be intuitive, peaceful, and supported in a different way. After this realisation, I knew I wanted to birth at home. I connected with CMP, the publicly funded homebirth program, and decided I also wanted a doula by my side. Meeting Sarah - Mother Mother Doula was like an instant “yes” — she made me feel so seen, safe, and supported.

At 40 weeks and 5 days, early on the 22nd of January around 6 am, I started feeling mild, regular cramps. I hadn’t lost my waters or mucous plug, so I didn’t think too much of it at first. But by the evening, once my husband Arlen was home, those surges (contractions) got stronger — longer, harder to ignore, and definitely more real.

We called Sarah, and then around 10 pm, we contacted our midwife when it felt like I might be in active labour. I really believed (and I think we all did!) that things were moving quickly and that I’d be meeting my baby very soon.

I leaned on all the tools I had prepared: a TENS machine, combs/spikey ball for distraction, the incredible support of my husband and doula — but truly, the shower was my sanctuary. Around midnight, I got into the birth pool for the first time. It felt so nice, but it did slow down labour like it sometimes can.

By 8 am, after a long night, a second midwife swapped in, and Sarah went to rest for a bit while Arlen and I tried to get some sleep. It wasn’t easy lying down through contractions, but my body was exhausted and needed the rest. 

At this point, (around mid-day) I was emotionally struggling. I could feel my confidence and trust starting to crack and unravel. I seriously considered transferring to the hospital for an epidural. All the preparation and deep wishes I had for a natural homebirth felt so far away. Speaking openly with Arlen and Sarah helped me ground myself. I decided I wanted a vaginal exam, even though we had planned to avoid them — maybe knowing my progress would help me make my next decision. Even though I knew I shouldn’t let cervix dilation define my progress, I still hoped it might shift something mentally.

At 5 pm, I agreed to be checked. I was 5 cm dilated. In an act of wisdom, my midwife Amanda didn’t tell me — she just encouraged me by saying how well I was doing and that I should keep going. (I only found out afterward that Sarah and Arlen knew — if I had heard “only 5 cm,” I’m pretty sure I would have transferred!)

That moment — being seen but not discouraged — was pivotal. I didn’t get the “out” I was half-hoping for. Somehow, it was just enough to not give up yet.

Around 5:30-6 pm, my waters began to leak. I was so tired that I actively avoided positions that would intensify labour, even though my midwife kept encouraging movement. Arlen stayed right by my side, holding me through each surge, reminding me, “Just one more, you can do one more, then you get a break.” His presence was truly what kept me going.

Around 7 pm, with the looming fear of not achieving my desired home birth, we reached out to Arlen’s mum Fe, for extra support. With her personal and professional birthing wisdom and calming energy it added so much to our space. I’ll always be grateful for her presence. 

At around 10:30 pm, I felt the shift — my body instinctively starting to bear down. The pressure was intense. I continued labouring outside the pool until about 11 pm, trying to stay patient. Once I got into the pool, I reached down and felt the very top of Kai’s head — and I got this incredible surge of energy. The pain faded into the background because I knew: he’s almost here.

I stayed connected to that feeling, breathing him down as we worked together with every wave. The stretching was intense — it asked everything of me to stay open and surrender — but I stayed with it. I was so close. Feeling his head helped me stay focused and grounded.

When Kai’s body was finally born, the relief was absolutely surreal. Without thinking, I scooped him up myself (even though we’d originally planned for Arlen to “catch” him). It felt so deeply intuitive — I needed to be the one to pull him onto my chest. Meeting him for the first time was the most magical moment of my life. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

Time completely disappeared. When I found out it had been 45 minutes already, I couldn’t believe it — but I still needed to birth the placenta. With a few strong pushes while standing up, it was out—bringing the final wave of relief. I had a second-degree tear but opted to let it heal naturally, and thankfully, my recovery has been really smooth.

It was such a gift to be able to shower and snuggle up into our bed just the three of us to soak it all in. I breastfed and held Kai until we all collapsed into an exhausted, blissed-out heap. I’m forever grateful for each and every person who played a huge role in helping me hold the vision when I couldn’t and ultimately helped me achieve my positive home birth.

My Reflections

If there’s one thing I would pass along to other mums: you have choices. It’s so important to be fully informed of what your options are and to trust your instincts. The BRAIN method (Benefits, Risks, Alternatives, Intuition, Nothing) was something I leaned on, and it truly made a difference.

The people you choose to support you during birth matter deeply. Surrounding yourself with those who trust your instincts and honour your vision can shape your entire experience — not just the outcome, but how you feel in every moment.

Birth is wild, beautiful, and unpredictable—but it’s yours. You deserve to feel empowered and supported through it.

Labour and birth are not just physical experiences — they’re emotional, mental, and deeply transformative. My journey to meeting Kai showed me that even in my hardest moments, I am capable of more than I ever knew.