My Freebirth Journey: Choosing a Birth Experience on My Terms

Pregnancy and birth are often framed by rules, regulations, and the involvement of medical professionals. But what happens when you feel called to take your birth experience into your own hands? This was my story during my second VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean), when I made the decision to part ways with my midwife and embrace freebirth—a birth without medical intervention. Here's how I navigated this powerful and personal journey.

The Decision to Go My Own Way

At 20 weeks pregnant, after many discussions with my midwife, I decided to part ways with her and complete the rest of my pregnancy on my terms. In the back of my mind, I always knew that freebirth was what I truly wanted. When I spoke with my midwife about my wishes, I understood that to get the birth I envisioned, freebirth was the only way. Our conversation centered around her licensing and the constraints of the BCCNM (British Columbia College of Nurses and Midwives). Ironically, she told me that if I were birthing in the Philippines and she was my midwife, she wouldn’t have had any issues with my choices.

While this was eye-opening, it was also a reminder that birth should be a deeply personal experience, not dictated by the licensing and policies of an institution. After that conversation, I knew what I needed to do.

Surrendering to My Fears

Although I had a clear vision of the birth I wanted, I was not immune to fear. During my pregnancy, I came across a triggering birth story, and for a while, fear of hemorrhaging haunted me. Every night, I found myself handing my fears over to God, seeking peace and comfort. But one fear always crept back: What if something went wrong? Despite envisioning the birth scene I desired—utterly perfect—this fear lingered in the background.

In those final weeks of pregnancy, I surrendered to my emotions. I visualized my birth over and over again, imagining the perfect scenario: my body working in harmony with nature. But the fear of hemorrhaging persisted, and I knew I had to face it head-on. I worked through it the best I could, but I also realized that it was something I needed to release in order to truly trust the process.

The Birth I Always Dreamed Of

When labor began, it unfolded almost exactly as I had imagined. The birth was powerful, serene, and perfect. I felt truly blessed to experience it in such a profound and unhurried way. I was able to catch my own baby, listen to my body, and allow it to do the work without interference. It was everything I had hoped for.

As I reflect on the third stage of birth—the delivery of the placenta—I now understand that my journey was not about overcoming fears that would sabotage the process. Rather, it was about embracing the experience and trusting that everything would unfold as it was meant to. The birth process wasn’t controlled by my fears; instead, I allowed my body to do what it was designed to do, trusting that everything would work out.

Do I Regret My Decision?

Looking back, I have no regrets about choosing freebirth. Do I wish I had a midwife present? No. Unless she had been willing to step back and be a silent observer or wait outside the room, I believe the presence of someone else would have interfered with the birth experience I so deeply desired. Birth should never be controlled by someone else’s fears, protocols, or ministry of health oversight. It should be mother-led, and the mother’s choices should never be ignored or manipulated.

No, I don’t regret my decision, because in the midst of the hemorrhage afterward, when I lost consciousness, I felt God’s presence more strongly than I ever have before. It was during that vulnerable moment afterward, when I was beyond awareness, that I felt an overwhelming connection to Him. My husband, fearful for my life, prayed over me in that moment, and I truly felt His guiding support. That presence and the power of his prayer helped carry me through such a terrifying experience.

In addition, this experience has made our relationship that much stronger. It deepened the trust and bond between us in ways I could never have anticipated. Facing that moment together has created an unspoken understanding between us that continues to strengthen our connection.

Would I Do It Again?

As of now, I can't definitively say what the future holds. I believe that I would do it again because the experience was so empowering. But, until I'm pregnant again, I can't fully say what my truth will be. What I do know is that the ability to birth on my terms, with no intervention, listening to my body, and catching my own baby, was a deeply transformative experience.

So, would I do it again? In my heart, I believe I would. But I’ll need God’s love once again to carry me through my fears.

Birth is not just about the destination; it’s about the journey. It’s about reclaiming the power within yourself and listening to your intuition. For me, freebirth was the choice that allowed me to truly own my birth experience, and it remains one of the most profound, spiritual moments of my life. My hope is that by sharing my story, others may find the courage to trust themselves in their own birth journeys, no matter what path they choose.

How the Stomach Flu Tanked My Milk Supply

A few days ago, I came down with a terrible stomach flu. Thankfully, the worst of it only lasted a day, but in that short time, it completely wrecked me. I was losing fluids so fast that I nearly went into shock. I breastfeed through it, until, eventually I just couldn’t anymore. At the worst point, my baby had to rely on expressed milk because I was too weak to nurse.

By the time I started feeling human again, my milk supply had all but vanished. My breasts felt and looked like they did before I ever started nursing—soft, and empty. My baby would latch and suck, and it would take him so much effort to stimulate a letdown. When he did, it felt like he was barely getting an ounce.

The Road to Rebuilding Supply

As soon as I felt well enough to hold my baby, we spent the following three days nursing every two hours or less, except when sleeping, then we nursed if he woke. It was exhausting, but I know frequency was key to rebuilding my milk production.

The hardest part wasn’t just nursing so often—it’s was the struggle to eat and drink enough to even give my body something to work with. My appetite is finally coming around today. Every sip and bite felt like a chore. I know I need to replenish what I lost, but it’s been slow going.

Now, on day six, it finally feels like my breasts are back at the production they were before. By day four, things had started to improve, and we could go back to longer stretches between nursing sessions. It’s a relief, and this morning, for the first time since being sick, I was able to pump 3 extra ounces. Before all this, I was pumping 5 extra ounces a day to donate, so I still have a bit of rebuilding left to do.

Lessons Learned

This experience has been a brutal reminder of how quickly milk supply can take a hit when the body is under extreme stress. I am thankful I had a personal stash of expressed milk to use. At first I was worried that I’d made a mistake donating most of my freezer supply. It’s also shown me just how much fuel breastfeeding requires—if I don’t eat and drink enough, my body simply won’t make enough milk, no matter how much I nurse.

For anyone going through something similar, here’s what’s helped me:

• Frequent nursing: Even when it felt pointless, I kept nursing on demand to stimulate production. He would unlatch multiple times out of frustration but I kept getting him to relatch.

• Hydration: Once I could drink again, I focused on electrolytes to replace what I lost.

• Forcing myself to eat: Even small, frequent bites of food helped keep my body from running on empty.

• Rest: As much as I could while still feeding around the clock. I napped with him for every nap for 3 days.

• Patience: The hardest part—trusting that my body would bounce back.

It was slow progress, but worth every effort. If you’ve ever struggled with a sudden drop in supply due to illness, I’d love to hear what helped you recover. Breastfeeding is such a journey, and sometimes, it feels like we’re just barely hanging on—but we keep going, one feed at a time.

My Journey Through Infertility

We were young and it was right around our one year anniversary of dating, and two weeks after moving in together, that we had the kids talk. I felt this primal desire to have a family. Two weeks later I stopped taking birth control.

Before birth control, my cycles were within normal range of 35 days. During my 1.5 years on the pill, I was talked into taking the HPV shots. The side effects from it were horrible, but it wasn’t until I stopped taking birth control that I learned how badly it damaged me.

A few months after our anniversary we got engaged to be married. Still no period. It was 7 months before I had my first bleed; a month before we got married. After that, and since then, they have always been super irregular.

Almost a full three years went by before we were able to seek outside help. I asked for referrals from my family doctor a couple of times.

Those three years were so hard on our marriage, on my mental health. I went through crazy lows, days where I didn’t feel like existing anymore. My husband didn’t know how to help. Sex was no longer fun for either of us, it was now a chore. None of my friends were at a point in their life of even considering babies (at least on purpose) and couldn’t sympathize with my pain. Everyone told me to relax and stop trying and it’ll just happen. I met some wonderful ladies on a fertility app who were all going through infertility struggles which really helped at certain points. I knew there was little chance of conception ‘just happening’ after three years of tracking my cycles and realizing I was rarely ovulating.

We were referred to an OBGYN who prescribed me Clomiphene, a drug to induce ovulation by suppressing estrogen. I ovulated the first cycle on it, but not the second and had to force a bleed with medication , synthetic progesterone, which also had bad side effects.

We were then referred to a fertility specialist who wanted us to try IUI (intra-uterine insemination). But it was too costly, so she tried us on a different medication. Letrozole, a breast cancer treatment drug, that has a nifty side effect of inducing ovulation, by reducing estrogen. I hated that it was the medical system who ruined my fertility, and I had to rely on the medical system to simulate it.

I hated the way the Letrozole made me feel. It made me anxious and gave me terrible night sweats. After two cycles I wanted to give up, but I had a prescription for one more and told myself if this one doesn’t work then I’m taking a good long break from meds or trying to have a baby. I was so done.

Third Letrozole cycle, 3.5 years of trying to conceive, it happened! I didn’t even believe it for the longest time. At 6.5 weeks along, my mom, and my husband’s mom went with me to the fertility clinic, and the doctor did a vaginal ultrasound and we saw a little flicker of a heartbeat. The doctor said she was ‘cautiously optimistic’.

Eight moons later, my little girl was born! (Via a traumatic ‘emergent’ cesarean) Her arrival marked the end of a long and challenging journey, one filled with pain, growth, and immense joy.

Did you have a painful journey into conception? I’d love to hear your story in the comments.