I’d thought about home birth before, but I’d always written it off as dangerous and instantly talked myself out of it. That changed during my pregnancy. I decided to have a home birth and it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. It resulted in the most beautiful, intentional birth that I am so proud of and look back on with such joy.

In this week’s letter I’m going to share how I arrived at the decision, some of the research I came across, and a little of my story. After my positive birth experience, I am a huge advocate for home births, and I hope my story might inspire other women to consider home birth as a valid and valuable option.

Home birth, I believe, is one way we as women can reclaim childbirth, our birth experiences, and our right to a beautiful, intentional, woman-centred birth.

Hospital births are the cultural norm and are often presented as the “safest” place to give birth. However, for women hoping to have a natural vaginal birth, the stats in the UK tell a slightly different story. A hospital setting (in the UK) will see four in ten women having a caesarean or instrumental delivery, and 86% of women end up being medically managed on an obstetric ward (NHS Maternity Stats 2016/17, National Maternity Review: Better Births).

Given that most women want to give birth naturally and vaginally, it seems that the cultural norm is just a culture that has been ingrained into our psyche, often without proper evidence and with a lot of misinformation.

Part of my pregnancy journey became about reclaiming my own path, getting educated and properly informed about birth. I didn’t want to just go along with whatever was presented to me. I wanted to consciously choose how I would bring my baby into the world.

After a lot of reading, and two particularly great books, my intention for birth became this: to bear witness to the awesome power of the female body. I wanted to create the environment for my body to do what it is designed to do.

Let me rewind a little to the start of my pregnancy and those early conversations about birth.

When I met with my midwife and we discussed options, home birth was never mentioned. The “norm” or standard practice presented to you is a hospital setting. Home birth still sits outside the mainstream. It’s understandable, and it’s also important to note why. It is easier for midwives to bring women into their system, into their building, than it is to go into our homes and into our ways of birthing. They are ultimately working within an institution, which, as caring as it may be, does not always hold women’s wants and preferences as its top priority.

As women, we have to know our rights. We have the right to ask questions, to go against the grain, and to choose what we feel is right for us and our baby.

Not everyone will want to birth outside of a hospital – that is each woman’s choice. I simply want to open up the conversation so we know we do have a choice and we can birth in the way that feels best for us.

Because none of this was explained, I initially assumed, like many women, that hospital was the only place I could give birth.

How I came to a home birth

I am a big believer in fate, destiny or universal guidance – call it what you like. I believe the universe guides us, and my home birth has been no exception to that!

I found out I was pregnant in January 2025. In April, I was down in London for work and happened to walk past a second-hand bookshop in Brixton that I love. I popped in. It’s a wonderful shop, a bit like a magical cave, a mountain of books of all genres where you have to really dig to find the gems.

I’d already picked a couple of books and was at the till paying when a small book behind me caught my eye. Tiny compared to all the others, it was titled “Why Home Birth Matters” by Natalie Meddings. I saw it and thought, “Yeah, why not?” I bought it.

Back at my hotel I started reading. From the first pages I was totally hooked. I read that book in bed that night, on the underground, in the restaurant. I was in London for three days and by the time I landed back in Scotland, I was certain. I wanted a home birth.

That little book completely changed my outlook and quietly set in motion what would become the most beautiful birthing experience.

The book is jam-packed with research, statistics and stories from other women that show why home birth matters. It isn’t just a “nice idea”, it actually supports the natural rhythm of birth and helps create the most conducive environment for a physiological birth.

An optimal natural birth environment is calm, safe, comfortable and private, all of which home can provide and almost the opposite of a typical hospital environment.

One example I read really landed with me. If you were going for a poo, what would you want? Privacy. A quiet, safe space where you know you won’t be disturbed. Now imagine trying to go to the toilet in a room with bright lights, multiple people walking in and out, watching you, checking your pulse, asking you questions, constantly monitoring you. How easy would it be to relax and “go” in that environment? Most likely, not very.

So why then do we expect women to give birth – a far more intense and vulnerable process – under those conditions?

When I looked at it like that, it felt kind of crazy.

From that small but mighty book, I became convinced I wanted a home birth. My intention was simple: create the environment most conducive to birth so I could bear witness to the power of my own body.

Another line that stayed with me was around this idea that women need to “do something” in birth. When in reality, birth is the most natural process. Our bodies are literally designed to give birth, if given the space, safety and trust to do so.

I wanted to let my body do what it was designed to do. For me, that meant giving birth at home.

Standing firm in my decision

Once I make my mind up about something, I’m pretty steadfast. I knew I would stand firm. When I took this decision back to my midwife, there was a little pushback, but I made it very clear. I was certain, and I would not be swayed.

It’s unfortunate that to have a home birth you often have to stand your ground amidst subtle fear-mongering and “are you sure?” tactics. If it’s something you want, stand for it. Equip yourself with knowledge and support – it is so worth it.

After deciding on a home birth, I wanted to gather my tribe. I wanted to be surrounded by female energy and really tap into the sacred feminine during my birth.

Of course, I wanted my mum there with me. I knew I’d have two midwives, and I also decided I wanted a doula*.

My tribe was assembled. I went through my midwife appointments, and although I often felt gently steered back towards hospital, I wasn’t swayed. I was set. I was determined. And I was genuinely excited about giving birth.

Another book my doula recommended, “Reclaiming Childbirth as a Rite of Passage” by Rachel Reed, was also phenomenal. It helped me understand the wider context of modern maternity care and truly reclaim my power as a pregnant and birthing mother. I highly recommend reading it as an expecting Mum.

Coming out of the experience and reflecting now, I am so happy with my decision and proud of myself. I was intentional. I did my reading. I trusted my instincts. And it all worked out exactly as I had hoped, in many ways, even better than I could have possibly imagined.

In my next letter, I’ll share more about my actual birth experience.

For now, I’ll leave you with this call to action:

If you desire something outside the norm for your birth – pursue it with all your heart.
If you’re unsure, get yourself educated. Do some reading. Listen and learn.

Take back your power, my sister. Ask questions. Demand, desire and create the environment that you feel is most suited to you and your baby.

I am a big fan and a believer in home birth. If you ever want to chat about a home birth, reach out to me, I’m very keen to chat!

With love always, while standing in our power.
​

💛 Emma

*A doula is a non-medical professional who provides emotional, informational and physical support to people before, during and after childbirth and in the postpartum period. They offer practical help, act as advocates for your wishes, and share evidence-based information to support informed decisions – but they don’t provide clinical care like a midwife or doctor.