I found out I was pregnant in November 2025, when our twins were 15 months old. Eek.

I felt more nauseous and more tired in this pregnancy and quite depleted, since I was still breastfeeding the twins at the start too. Being pregnant while caring for toddlers is incredibly demanding, and I found myself thinking back to my previous pregnancy with a tinge of wistfulness, remembering being able to nap and have downtime whenever I pleased!

I knew from the start that I'd be planning a home birth. If you haven't read my birth story for the twins, you can find it here - but in nutshell, I planned a home birth with them and ultimately ended up with a hospital birth. This time I hired Thea, a local doula who had supported us in the postnatal period with the twins. I felt that I wanted to get as much support in place as possible for my home birth plans.

Sam and I decided we didn't want a 12-week scan, since neither of us felt it would change what we'd do during the pregnancy. I did question a couple of times whether I wanted to know sooner how many babies I was carrying, but again - even if it were another set of twins, would it change anything for me in the first half of the pregnancy? It felt like a long wait to get to 20 weeks, and when we finally had the scan, it revealed one healthy baby growing, which was a big relief.

Other than feeling permanently exhausted, and catching a few toddler illnesses over the winter, my pregnancy was smooth sailing. I didn't book with the NHS - I planned to have any antenatal care I wanted with Natasha, and if we had concerns, I'd have sought NHS input. I knew that booking with the NHS would automatically label me high risk because of my history, and I wouldn't have been encouraged to plan a home birth given my previous post-partum haemorrhage.

I checked my iron levels once, around 30 weeks, as I was feeling really tired and had been anaemic at the end of my previous pregnancy. I wanted to make sure my levels were okay, and if not, to act on it sooner rather than later. The results came back completely normal, so I put the tiredness down to parenting toddler twins. I suppose the difference this time was that, because of that anaemia history, I was far more conscious and proactive about eating plenty of iron-rich foods and protein. It also helped that I was growing only one baby, meaning less pressure on my body's resources compared to last time.

The other thing I monitored occasionally was my blood pressure, since I'd had pre-eclampsia last time, and it stayed beautiful throughout. I opted out of things like bump measurements - I know I grow bigger babies, and my bump was a good size this time (thanks in part to another good-sized baby and diastasis recti). I didn't feel measurements would be helpful, and I didn't want numbers getting in my head when I felt I had a healthy baby and knew after the twins, I could birth a good-sized one. This baby did a lot of wriggling, so I felt confident throughout that they were okay.

I'd also felt confident I wouldn't be meeting this baby before 40 weeks - the twins made me wait until 41 weeks, so surely a single baby wouldn't come much earlier?! We also had big plans: Sam and I were getting married when I was around 36 weeks, something we'd booked before I even found out I was pregnant. Turns out this baby had other ideas for us!

Now for the actual birth…

In the week I turned 36 weeks, I noticed some more uncomfortable Braxton Hicks, but didn't think much of it - the twins had been keeping me busy, there hadn't been much time for rest, and it had been very hot. I put it down to dehydration and being too active, especially since they settled. That same week I also noticed I needed to pee far more often than usual, which I put down to the baby's position (I had no signs of a UTI, another possible cause). On the Wednesday, at exactly 36 weeks, I had a few irregular, "gnarly" Braxton Hicks during the day. They made me stop what I was doing, but were sporadic enough that I dismissed them. Baby was wriggling away and I was otherwise feeling good. I went to get my haircut that afternoon – part of my wedding prep!

In the evening I had more of these gnarly Braxton Hicks, and mentioned them to Sam and my sister, Lizzie, who'd arrived from New Zealand the day before. My tummy was a little sore, but I honestly felt like it was trapped wind. I texted Natasha about the Braxton Hicks, reiterating my belief that it was just trapped wind (lucky her!). I went to bed around 10pm, and by 11pm I was getting lower tummy pain regularly enough to stop me from sleeping. I got up and went downstairs for a peppermint tea and to distract myself I tried reading ‘In Your Own Time’ by Sara Wickham (like a true midwife nerd). At this point I still hadn't consciously clocked that I was in labour.

Downstairs, the pains slowly increased, and I even downloaded a contraction timer because I wanted to track how often they were coming. I'd also started having to breathe through them. For about an hour I kept getting a pain every ten minutes, each one getting stronger. Not long after midnight, I got the urge to go to the loo - not a pushy urge, more of a "we need to evacuate" one (iykyk) - and I think this is where the penny really started to drop. In the bathroom, the pain worsened and became more constant. I wondered briefly if I should call an ambulance, given I was only 36 weeks, but the thought passed quickly; other than the gestational age, I didn't feel like there was anything wrong. I went to the loo again, and my mucus plug came out in one lump just after half past midnight. This is the point I fully realised I was in labour. I think part of not realising sooner (denial, perhaps?!) was how much earlier this was than the twins. I wasn’t expecting it at all - whereas with the twins, I'd known labour was coming and had been waiting for it for what felt like ages.

I texted both Natasha and Thea, to tell them I was contracting, not expecting a response since nobody was on call for me yet. I woke Sam to tell him I was in labour, and by now I was getting quite vocal with the contractions. I had the slightest urge to push. We went downstairs - nothing was prepared, so I asked Sam to grab a big stash of towels. He asked if I wanted the pool filled, and although everything felt like it was happening thick and fast, I said let's give it a go. About two minutes later, my waters went with a glorious pop (warm and flecked with vernix) all over the living room floor and I felt momentary relief. I told Sam to stop prepping the pool - I knew the baby was coming soon. With the next contraction, I felt the urge to push. I could feel the baby moving down, and then, with my fingers, I could feel his head. I remember feeling like I wasn't doing a "good job" of staying calm or breathing, and wasn't using any of the tools I'd prepared - but the reality was that everything was happening so quickly there was barely a moment to catch my breath.

The stretch as the baby approached crowning was intense - that push-pull feeling of not wanting to do it, but also wanting to get it over with was real. By now I was on my knees, holding onto Sam and directing him to put towels under me in a vague attempt to save the rug (dear reader, the rug was not saved). I gave a big push through the stingy crowning sensation and the baby's head was born - I remember I could feel his little ear! Probably less than a minute later, I did another big push - and then, all of a sudden, there was a pink, crying baby, covered in vernix, lying on our living room floor. He was born 10 minutes after my waters had gone. I'd heard my sister Lizzie come down into the kitchen at the sound of my mooing and called her in - she was amazed to see the baby there.

Sam and Lizzie helped me onto the sofa with the baby - a boy - for skin-to-skin. The cord was so chunky. I felt amazing: slightly in shock at the speed of it all, but mostly just wow, I have another baby and it wasn't the epic saga of a birth I'd had with the twins. It was a heatwave, so I was plenty warm, but I asked Sam for a hot, sweet tea - conscious of wanting to keep things calm and my oxytocin levels high for the placenta to birth with no dramas.

About ten minutes after baby was born, the contractions started again and they were unpleasant! I breathed and moaned through them, and finally, about half an hour after baby arrived, I pushed the placenta out on the sofa. The baby was still attached to it, so we set it in a bowl beside me, and they stayed connected for another hour. I cut the cord myself, and we put the placenta in a Tupperware in the fridge - I'd planted the twins' placentas and planned to do the same with this one. I felt well, without too much bleeding. I asked Lizzie to find my handheld scales and sling to weigh him and was surprised (at the time!) that he was 4.25kg (9lb 5oz). He felt so small to me after being around my toddlers. After a shower and a snack, Sam and I crawled into bed with our new baby boy, far too wired to actually sleep, but so happy to be in our own bed!

I'd messaged Natasha and Thea after the birth, knowing they wouldn't see the messages until morning. I asked Natasha to come round in the morning for a postnatal check, as I'd already spotted a perineal tear with a mirror but couldn't fully assess it myself and wanted a second opinion on whether stitches would be advisable or not. Remarkably, I had no pain from the tear - just some slight general tenderness - but no actual pain. This was again, a stark difference to my previous experience. Natasha came over around 8am and confirmed a second-degree tear, though not deep, with the edges aligned and no bleeding. I decided I'd rather let it heal on its own than have stitches.

And if you've been following the timeline, the answer is yes - we did get married the next day! I'd have told any client of mine to rest after giving birth, and I did spend the whole of the Thursday in bed with the baby, being brought snacks. But we went ahead with the wedding anyway, and it was amazing and surreal all at once. Once the weekend's wedding shenanigans were done, I went back to bed for most of the week to catch up on that rest as I was very conscious that I had a tear to heal and a body that needed rest after giving birth.

This birth was wildly different from my first. I'm amazed at what my body did both times. It was so perfect that my sister could be there - her and Sam made a great team. I felt safe throughout the whole experience – and I was so prepared in case it was going to be another long birth, but I didn’t get the time to use any of the tools I had ready - save for sniffing a bit of aromatherapy before I’d fully acknowledged I was even having a baby! It was all so ordinary, and extraordinary at the same time - it was perfect.

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