I’ve been a yoga teacher for over 13 years. Breathwork? Daily. Nervous system regulation? My jam. I’ve got a toolbox full of practices to calm the mind, open the body, and drop into deep surrender. I’ve weathered the dark nights of the soul. I’ve shape-shifted through countless versions of myself. I’ve always come out stronger, and I’d confidently describe myself as a grounded, spiritual, strong woman with a very high pain tolerance.
I say this not to impress you, but to give you context. Because even with all of that, birth cracked me open in ways I wasn’t prepared for.
During pregnancy, I was all in on the pain-free birth narrative. I devoured positive birth stories, soaked up podcasts, read every book I could get my hands on. I followed every Instagram account that painted birth as blissful, peaceful, even orgasmic. And while those stories can absolutely be valid and inspiring, I now see that only consuming that narrative was… well, a little reckless.
I made plans. Oh, did I make plans.
I created a stunning playlist, the kind of thing that would make you cry in a candlelit bath. I stocked my fridge with coconut water, bone broth, and organic snacks that cost more than my first car. I envisioned myself gracefully swaying in a birth pool, surrounded by crystals, affirmations, and the smell of essential oils wafting through the air.
And then… reality.
There was no music. I couldn’t even think about music. I was throwing up every time I took a sip of water. My special gourmet snacks went untouched, and my beautifully curated birth altar was by far the last thing on my mind.
What actually happened was me stomping around my house like a wild animal, gripping onto stools, counters, and cupboard handles, roaring through surges like some kind of primal kitchen troll.
Let me be clear: I do believe pain-free birth is possible. I really do. But when my labor began and I felt the most intense sensation of my life, my first thought wasn’t “Wow, what power.” It was: “Something must be wrong.”
And that’s the problem.
I’d done so much “mind programming” to believe birth could and should be pain-free that when it wasn’t, I doubted my body. I doubted my strength. I spiralled. I started to believe I wasn’t capable of doing it naturally, that something was broken in me.
In hindsight, I wish I had prepared differently. I wish I had balanced the inspirational stories with the gritty, real ones – the ones that say: yes, birth can be blissful… and it can also be brutal, painful, and the most intense experience of your life.
And that’s okay.
That’s still a powerful, beautiful, valid birth.
Birth isn’t something you “manifest” into a perfect form. It’s something you surrender to. It’s something that happens through you, not by you. And the more we try to control it, the more disempowered we might feel when it inevitably takes its own wild shape.
So if I could speak to my past self – and maybe to you –I’d say this:
Please don't chase a pain-free birth. Your birth will be empowered, even if it's painful. You don’t have to curate your experience to match a vision board. You don’t have to skip the “negative” stories or mute the messy ones. Because the most powerful thing you can do is open to the unknown, to the intensity, to the version of you who will rise up and meet it.
Birth will change you. Not because it’s painless, but because it’s real. And real things are rarely tidy or predictable.
So if your birth is painful… that doesn’t mean something’s wrong.
It might just mean it’s working.
Our next reco: Giving Birth is not a Party
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