Hello! Looking for a recommendation for a beach holiday in September with a 3 month old. Wasn’t a fan of all inclusive before a child but now it might be an option given how much more convenient it is. Also looking something with as little travel from London as possible (no ferry transfers). I like sandy beaches in Greece but open to suggestions! Budget flexible.
My LO is 8 weeks today and I have days when I feel overwhelmed and want to cry. My husband is very supportive but we don’t have friends or family that can help.
We have been experiencing witching hour since week 4. Baby likes to contact nap all day but sleeps well at night. I feel guilty for feeling this way especially when my husband seems like he is coping well. Baby wakes up every 2-3 hours which I don’t mind. I also don’t mind ebf. But what I find challenging is the constant fussiness. He wakes up and smiles a bit but after a while gets fussy again which is a sign that I need to put him in a sling and rock him to sleep. I know it is normal but I feel like I don’t hear many mothers complaining about how hard it is. Everyone just says it is all worth it.
I love my baby and I don’t feel depressed. I get time to exercise every other day and enjoy going for walks. But I still cry especially when he is extra fussy. It feels like I am trying to put out fire that doesn’t go away. Baby is reaching all developmental milestones (smiling at us, cooing, tracking us when we leave his proximity) but it feels like 99% of the time he is just fussy especially in the evenings when it is harder to put him down. We have seen a lactation consultant, paediatrician, Craniosacral therapist and there isn’t anything wrong really. He is gaining weight and has plenty of dirty and wet nappies daily. He’s just a baby and I am a mum that is overwhelmed. I know people will say it will pass quickly and it’s just a phase. But it does feel like forever. Some people see improvement after 12 weeks and some after 1 year? It just feels very long.
I miss alone time with my partner. I miss having time to exercise for however long I want. I miss eating dinner with my partner. Right now the only way we get to eat is if one of us holds the baby.
Just venting whilst baby is napping on me in the carrier. I love him and he is so sweet but it’s so hard and I feel like no other mums I know are complaining.
If someone had told me it would take three sleepless nights to birth my baby, and that I’d be elated and full of energy by the end, I wouldn’t have believed them. But here we are.
I want to share my full story because I spent so much time reading other people’s birth stories during pregnancy and they genuinely helped me. I hope this helps someone too.
Background
My pregnancy was easy and I was low-risk. We originally had a private hospital booked under consultant-led care, thinking the most expensive option would give us the best experience. That changed after we did a hypnobirthing course. Learning about physiological birth, how epidurals can interfere with your natural oxytocin production and lead to a cascade of interventions, and how private hospitals actually have the highest c-section rates, made us reconsider everything.
I knew I felt safest at home. I didn’t want to be in an unfamiliar environment with different people coming in and out to monitor me, or to be on the hospital’s timeline. So we hired independent midwives and a doula, and planned a home birth.
Preparing
Throughout my second and third trimester I focused on hypnobirthing affirmations and meditations, keeping stress low, and surrounding myself with people who made me feel safe. I also had years of yoga, mindfulness and meditation behind me before pregnancy, and I think that was just as important. It meant I could meet each contraction with presence and breath rather than resistance. I was never scared. I didn’t tell many people about the home birth plan to avoid taking on other people’s fears and projections. Instead, I sought out people who’d had positive home birth experiences, and that made a huge difference.
The continuity of care from our independent midwives was everything. Through home visits they answered all my questions about risks like haemorrhaging, tearing, and long labour. The more I saw them, the more at ease I became.
Night 1
Going past 38 weeks, the baby dropped low, I lost my mucus plug and had a bloody show. Contractions started that night, ten minutes apart. I laboured alone in the living room while my husband slept. I used the TENS machine and breathed through every surge. Strong enough that I couldn’t sleep in between, but manageable.
They stopped during the day. I napped, preserved my energy, and prepared myself for it to pick up again that night.
Night 2
I asked my husband to sleep in the nursery and made a little cocoon for myself on the bedroom floor. Hypnobirthing affirmations on, TENS machine on, moving through each contraction alone. Still ten minutes apart.
The sun came up again and I started to worry. Was this prodromal labour? Would it go on for weeks? Our midwife reassured me that long early labour is the body preparing itself, and that active labour can come on quickly. I wasn’t entirely convinced. I had visions of ending up in hospital exhausted, asking for an epidural, the whole cascade I’d tried to avoid. But I kept going.
During the day, my husband and I went for a walk in the park. On the way back he suggested we hug a tree. We both prayed for things to unfold peacefully. The affirmations that got me through every surge:
I can do anything for one minute
Every surge brings me closer to my baby
Birth is safe and empowering
Night 3: Things shift
This time I wanted my husband with me. I asked him to close the blinds, and asked for cuddles and closeness to keep the oxytocin going. Contractions started picking up in intensity and getting closer together, around seven minutes apart, though I could still speak between them so I wasn’t sure if it was active labour yet.
My husband saw I was spiralling in my head and said to me:
You have done harder things in life before
Let go of your mind and go into your body
Something shifted. I stopped timing contractions, stopped watching the clock, stopped trying to force things. I’d been telling my baby in my head “you have to come out tonight” out of fear. I changed it to: “You can come whenever you are ready. I will wait for you, my baby.” I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. Birth taught me that becoming a mother is learning how to be patient. I am used to planning and strategising in life but the birthing process taught me how to surrender.
Active labour
Around 10pm I called my midwife and doula. My midwife asked how I was feeling and what I’d had for dinner (her subtle way of assessing how far along I was). Because I could answer between contractions, I assumed I had a while to go. She later told me she knew the baby was coming soon.
My doula arrived around 1am. I was using vocalisation to get through each contraction and it was working well. The intensity only lasted a minute, and in between I could still hold a conversation. The birthing pool wasn’t filled on time because our midwife advised we should get in when it becomes unbearable but the unbearable moment my midwife described never actually came. Honestly, I preferred labouring on land anyway.
Then I felt intense pressure and let out a huge roar. My waters broke and there was green meconium. I panicked. My doula sent a photo to our midwife and told me to keep going. Around 2am I felt the urge to push. I got on my knees and leaned over the ottoman in our living room. I was screaming in a high-pitched voice that I needed to poo. Honestly, the best way I can describe it: pushing felt like trying to poop a giant wooden log. My doula coached me to vocalise with deep guttural belly sounds instead and to focus on that pooing sensation. That redirection really helped me.
Pushing
I could feel the head and held back a little, afraid of tearing. The head slipped back between contractions because I didn’t want to push all the way through in one go as I was afraid of tearing. This went on for about an hour, each contraction getting me a little further. Then the head was crowning.
Ten minutes before delivery, my midwife rang the doorbell. My husband opened the door and shouted “The baby’s head is here!” She came in, set up her resuscitation equipment quietly behind me, and simply said “I’m here” in the most reassuring voice.
The ring of fire felt familiar, similar to what I’d practised with an epi-no device in late pregnancy so I was not afraid and it didn’t feel too bad. My doula helped me breathe through it. There was a pause while we waited for the next contraction and let the tissues stretch. Then the head was out, and moments later the arms and legs followed.
Pushing was my favourite part.Feeling his head, his arm, his leg moving through me was extraordinary. Within seconds he let out a strong cry. No meconium in his lungs. Our midwife passed him to me and I felt the most enormous relief.
Afterwards
Our midwife later told me she’d had a difficult decision to make when she heard about the meconium. She’d been advised to consider transferring us to hospital. But because of the continuity of care and her assessment from the 10pm call, she could tell the birth was imminent. If we’d transferred, I likely would have given birth in the car. The meconium was greenish rather than thick and dark, which carries a lower risk of respiratory complications.
I had no tearing. Recovery was smooth. Breastfeeding was established quickly. The baby was happy and healthy.
I couldn’t imagine having done that on my back, numbed from the waist down. Being able to move freely, to feel everything, to be in my own home and surrender to the process fully was the most empowering experience of my life. If I laboured in the hospital for three days and there was meconium present, I know things would have turned out differently and I would be under pressure from interventions to speed up labour. I am glad I got to birth at home at peace.
TL;DR:Low-risk first time mum, switched from private hospital to home birth after hypnobirthing course. Three sleepless nights of early labour, green meconium scare, no epidural, no tearing. Pushing felt like trying to poop a giant wooden log. Would do it all again in a heartbeat.
If someone had told me it would take three sleepless nights to birth my baby, and that I’d be elated and full of energy by the end, I wouldn’t have believed them. But here we are.
I want to share my full story because I spent so much time reading other people’s birth stories during pregnancy and they genuinely helped me. I hope this helps someone too.
Background
My pregnancy was easy and I was low-risk. We originally had a private hospital booked under consultant-led care, thinking the most expensive option would give us the best experience. That changed after we did a hypnobirthing course. Learning about physiological birth, how epidurals can interfere with your natural oxytocin production and lead to a cascade of interventions, and how private hospitals actually have the highest c-section rates, made us reconsider everything.
I knew I felt safest at home. I didn’t want to be in an unfamiliar environment with different people coming in and out to monitor me, or to be on the hospital’s timeline. So we hired independent midwives and a doula, and planned a home birth.
Preparing
Throughout my second and third trimester I focused on hypnobirthing affirmations and meditations, keeping stress low, and surrounding myself with people who made me feel safe. I also had years of yoga, mindfulness and meditation behind me before pregnancy, and I think that was just as important. It meant I could meet each contraction with presence and breath rather than resistance. I was never scared. I didn’t tell many people about the home birth plan to avoid taking on other people’s fears and projections. Instead, I sought out people who’d had positive home birth experiences, and that made a huge difference.
The continuity of care from our independent midwives was everything. Through home visits they answered all my questions about risks like haemorrhaging, tearing, and long labour. The more I saw them, the more at ease I became.
Night 1
Going past 38 weeks, the baby dropped low, I lost my mucus plug and had a bloody show. Contractions started that night, ten minutes apart. I laboured alone in the living room while my husband slept. I used the TENS machine and breathed through every surge. Strong enough that I couldn’t sleep in between, but manageable.
They stopped during the day. I napped, preserved my energy, and prepared myself for it to pick up again that night.
Night 2
I asked my husband to sleep in the nursery and made a little cocoon for myself on the bedroom floor. Hypnobirthing affirmations on, TENS machine on, moving through each contraction alone. Still ten minutes apart.
The sun came up again and I started to worry. Was this prodromal labour? Would it go on for weeks? Our midwife reassured me that long early labour is the body preparing itself, and that active labour can come on quickly. I wasn’t entirely convinced. I had visions of ending up in hospital exhausted, asking for an epidural, the whole cascade I’d tried to avoid. But I kept going.
During the day, my husband and I went for a walk in the park. On the way back he suggested we hug a tree. We both prayed for things to unfold peacefully. The affirmations that got me through every surge:
I can do anything for one minute
Every surge brings me closer to my baby
Birth is safe and empowering
Night 3: Things shift
This time I wanted my husband with me. I asked him to close the blinds, and asked for cuddles and closeness to keep the oxytocin going. Contractions started picking up in intensity and getting closer together, around seven minutes apart, though I could still speak between them so I wasn’t sure if it was active labour yet.
My husband saw I was spiralling in my head and said to me:
You have done harder things in life before
Let go of your mind and go into your body
Something shifted. I stopped timing contractions, stopped watching the clock, stopped trying to force things. I’d been telling my baby in my head “you have to come out tonight” out of fear. I changed it to: “You can come whenever you are ready. I will wait for you, my baby.” I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Birth taught me that becoming a mother is learning how to be patient. I am used to planning and strategising in life but the birthing process taught me how to surrender.
Active labour
Around 10pm I called my midwife and doula. My midwife asked how I was feeling and what I’d had for dinner (her subtle way of assessing how far along I was). Because I could answer between contractions, I assumed I had a while to go. She later told me she knew the baby was coming soon.
My doula arrived around 1am. I was using vocalisation to get through each contraction and it was working well. The intensity only lasted a minute, and in between I could still hold a conversation. The birthing pool wasn’t filled on time because our midwife advised we should get in when it becomes unbearable but the unbearable moment my midwife described never actually came. Honestly, I preferred labouring on land anyway.
Then I felt intense pressure and let out a huge roar. My waters broke and there was green meconium. I panicked. My doula sent a photo to our midwife and told me to keep going. Around 2am I felt the urge to push. I got on my knees and leaned over the ottoman in our living room. I was screaming in a high-pitched voice that I needed to poo. Honestly, the best way I can describe it: pushing felt like trying to poop a giant wooden log. My doula coached me to vocalise with deep guttural belly sounds instead and to focus on that pooing sensation. That redirection really helped me.
Pushing
I could feel the head and held back a little, afraid of tearing. The head slipped back between contractions because I didn’t want to push all the way through in one go as I was afraid of tearing. This went on for about an hour, each contraction getting me a little further. Then the head was crowning.
Ten minutes before delivery, my midwife rang the doorbell. My husband opened the door and shouted “The baby’s head is here!” She came in, set up her resuscitation equipment quietly behind me, and simply said “I’m here” in the most reassuring voice.
The ring of fire felt familiar, similar to what I’d practised with an epi-no device in late pregnancy so I was not afraid and it didn’t feel too bad. My doula helped me breathe through it. There was a pause while we waited for the next contraction and let the tissues stretch. Then the head was out, and moments later the arms and legs followed.
Pushing was my favourite part.Feeling his head, his arm, his leg moving through me was extraordinary. Within seconds he let out a strong cry. No meconium in his lungs. Our midwife passed him to me and I felt the most enormous relief.
Afterwards
Our midwife later told me she’d had a difficult decision to make when she heard about the meconium. She’d been advised to consider transferring us to hospital. But because of the continuity of care and her assessment from the 10pm call, she could tell the birth was imminent. If we’d transferred, I likely would have given birth in the car. The meconium was greenish rather than thick and dark, which carries a lower risk of respiratory complications.
I had no tearing. Recovery was smooth. Breastfeeding was established quickly. The baby was happy and healthy.
I couldn’t imagine having done that on my back, numbed from the waist down. Being able to move freely, to feel everything, to be in my own home and surrender to the process fully was the most empowering experience of my life. If I laboured in the hospital for three days and there was meconium present, I know things would have turned out differently and I would be under pressure from interventions to speed up labour. I am glad I got to birth at home in peace.
TL;DR:Low-risk first time mum, switched from private hospital to home birth after hypnobirthing course. Three sleepless nights of early labour, green meconium scare, no epidural, no tearing. Pushing felt like trying to poop a giant wooden log. Would do it all again in a heartbeat.