Amelia’s Arrival: Not the Birth I Planned, But the One That Brought Her Here
I really believed that if I stayed connected to my body, I could bring my baby into the world gently and with as little intervention as possible.
But despite all the preparation, things didn’t go to plan..
As told by her mum, Maddi
The Stories Behind The Photos
Behind every baby I photograph is a woman who has just done something extraordinary.
These are the stories you don’t always see in the photos.. the ones full of plans, pivots, strength, and softness. Real Birth Stories is a space to honour those moments and remind every mum: you’re not alone in how it all unfolded.
These stories are shared with love by the women who lived them.
Want to share your own Birth Story? Get in touch via my contact page
Waiting to Meet Her
My pregnancy with Amelia felt like magic. It was calm and easy-goiang, and I was lucky to avoid most of the usual symptoms. From early on, she was constantly moving, kicking and wriggling 24/7 like she was already full of life. There were so many moments where I’d just sit with my hands on my belly and think, how is this real?
From the beginning, I hoped for a natural water birth. I listened to audiobooks and podcasts to prepare, filling my mind with as many positive birth stories as I could. I wrote out my birth preferences and really believed that, if I stayed connected to my body, I could bring my baby into the world gently and with as little intervention as possible.
But despite all the preparation, things didn’t go to plan.
At 39 weeks, I was booked in for an induction. The doctors were concerned about Amelia’s size and worried she might be too big for me to birth safely. It wasn’t what I wanted. I had a lot of fear around induction, but I was also a first-time mum and didn’t want to risk something going wrong. So, I agreed.
We arrived at the hospital at 7am and met my midwife, Emily. She showed us into our birthing suite, and the process began soon after. I remember feeling nervous, but there was also this excitement bubbling under the surface, we were finally going to meet our baby.
Things started progressing well, at least in those early hours. One moment that really stands out was getting into the birthing pool. I’d been looking forward to that part for so long, and I felt hopeful that she was close. I also remember the sensation of the fetal ejection reflex kicking in, it was wild and powerful, and how grounded I felt thanks to my midwife’s calm presence and my husband’s quiet support.
When Plans Shifted
But then… everything stalled. I reached 9cm and stayed there. For six hours, nothing changed. My body just stopped progressing. Eventually, the decision was made for an emergency c-section.
During the surgery, I felt like I left my body. I think it was some kind of trauma response. I just couldn’t process what was happening. I went into survival mode. And even after she was born, I didn’t fully register that she was here.
The Moment She Arrived
It wasn’t until hours later, when I was feeding her in the maternity ward, that it really hit me. She’s here. She’s mine. In those first moments, I felt everything at once. Joy, disbelief, overwhelming love… and also a quiet sadness. Sadness for how she came into the world. It was so far from the birth I’d imagined for both of us.
But even with that grief, stepping into motherhood felt strangely effortless. Like it had always been in me. I felt calm. Full. Like I’d come home to myself.
Processing It All
In those early days, my husband and our families were everything. And when things felt hard, I reminded myself: this is her first time living. Everything is new for her—and it’s my job to guide her, to teach her how to feel safe here.
Looking Back
Looking back, this experience gave me a much deeper appreciation for all mothers, especially my own. If I could go back and speak to the version of me preparing to give birth, I’d say: trust your instincts. If it’s not a full-body yes, it’s a no. Doctors don’t always get it right.
I wish more people spoke honestly about things like the cascade of intervention, how inaccurate growth scans can be, and how difficult c-section recovery really is. These are things we should be talking about more.
And to my sweet Amelia,
Although your birth didn’t go the way I hoped, I am endlessly grateful that you arrived safely. You are my biggest blessing and greatest joy.
If you’d like to share your own story as part of this series, I’d love to hear from you. Please get in touch here