Home Birth / A partner experience
It’s probably best to start with some context. Our first daughter was born in November 2020, right in the middle of a COVID lockdown. We’d found out we were expecting just a week before the first restrictions came in. Throughout the pregnancy, I wasn’t allowed to attend any scans or appointments. My only official NHS involvement was turning up at the hospital with my wife already in labour. I felt uninformed and disconnected. Those unusual circumstances, along with a few other more personal factors, meant that when the time came, the birth was different to how we imagined and a learning curve.
Four years later, we found out we were expecting another girl. Michelle, my wife, mentioned she’d like a home birth. I was open-minded — mostly because it solved the thing I found most stressful the first time: getting in the car.
There are a few key responsibilities for a partner during labour, and the one I found both hardest and vaguest was the decision of when to leave the house to the hospital — we had been told that we would be turned away if not dilated enough and wanted to be at home for as long as possible because of covid. It’s such a hard decision for first time parents, it is impossible to know for sure and so hard to gauge.
The idea of a home birth immediately made sense to me. We wouldn’t have to go anywhere. That single change removed a huge mental burden. When the time came, all we’d have to do was ‘just’ have the baby — everyone else would come to us. That simplicity appealed to my sense of logic.
Then there were the other big questions: Is it safe? What happens if something goes wrong? Logistically, how does it work? Who’s actually there? And where exactly do you give birth?
I’ll keep the answers simple, otherwise this would turn into a novel:
- You’re not alone. You opt for a community midwife team who, in our area, are on call 24/7. At the birth, there are two midwives — one focused on mum, one focused on baby. You can also choose to have extra (paid) support, like a doula. We had one, and it was worth it.
- Where does the baby arrive? Anywhere you like. You can set up a birthing pool (buy or hire, doulas can provide this), or choose the sofa, the bed, the floor, even the bath.
- Is it safe? Yes. It is well established and researched that homebirth is incredibly safe, not only for second or subsequent births but also for first time births. Check out The Birth Rebellion podcast to hear more and be sign posted to relevant research papers. We were reassured that if something was going wrong, there are usually clear warning signs for midwives to act upon before it becomes critical. Signs don’t appear out of the blue — you have time to transfer to hospital if needed or for a change of heart — you have options. In terms of ambulance times, a mum and baby in distress is number one priority.
I also trusted and believed in Michelle. It is her body and recognised whatever she wanted to make her feel good, in control and excited for birth would make for the best possible birth experience.
I was all in and signed up.
For a home birth, the partner’s role definitely increases. You can see that as a bad thing… or a good thing. You have to be more involved — but you get to be more involved. For me, the additional responsibility was creating and protecting the environment. In a hospital, the space is already set up, you’ve likely never seen it before — bright lights, busy, lots of strangers around etc.. At home, you are in your space and preparing it is up to both of you in advance and likely up to the partner to get the final details together when it is go time.
During the months while the baby was cooking away, my main concerns were all about logistics: What rooms would we use? What equipment did we need?
We had a pool from our doula, so we cleared out the dining room — it’s spacious, opens onto the garden, and felt calm. We also simplified our lounge to create room to move around. Luckily, we have a downstairs shower room too. In the end, our focus was on preparing those three spaces: the dining room, the lounge, and the shower room.
For our first daughter we had done some online courses (which is all you could do, covid — yay) — this time round we didn’t do any antenatal classes, just some refreshing on breathing, hypno birthing and relearning what amazing things the mums bodies are doing during labour by watching real births online and reading positive homebirth stories.
The thing that I put off the most which actually had the most impact was watching loads of home births. Watching these videos was the single best thing I did and helped me the most when it came to the day (no spoiler alerts yet).. I didn’t look at these videos until maybe 2 weeks before the due date. Guilty of putting my head in the sand a little.
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Let’s talk about midwives. We were assigned a lead midwife from a team of 9 local community midwives. They work on home births and travel around their relevant patches of the county, assessing homes for suitability for births, seeing expectant mums for appointments, attending births, visiting brand new babies and mums post birth. All the midwives we met this time around were very supportive of a home birth and are huge advocates for it. We had our midwife’s personal mobile number, we could text her anytime and felt very supported and informed by her. As we entered the weeks leading up to the due date she would come round our house for check ups and a tea. This really put us at ease and we felt very supported, it was great to be at home and not have to venture to a hospital or GP for those last few appointments towards the end of pregnancy, to me this was especially mind-blowing based on our previous hospital and covid experience. On reflection the biggest impact for me was seeing how excited our midwife was to help us bring our baby into the world, and how completely unfazed she was. That sounds obvious, it is her job, but for the parents childbirth — whether first time or subsequent — is SUCH an unknown, so being around people who are so chill, knowledgeable, professional AND passionate is worth its weight in gold.
OK, so we are ready. The house has been prepped. Grandparents on call to look after our 4 year old. I know what to do when signs of labour begin, who to call, how to put up the pool, how to set up the lounge, what snacks Michelle needs, ice packs ready in the freezer (hello heat wave and summer baby!). In the weeks leading up to the due date I think we were both excited for her to come, but maybe don’t come too soon — we had just renovated our house and there was plenty of nesting to be done!
The due date comes and goes. Oh, we were sort of expecting her to be like her sister, who arrived very promptly. No worries, a couple more days to chill, more pottering and jobs to be completed. A further week goes by without any signs. This was a funny period of time where we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves and hadn’t expected there to be a waiting game.
The baby decided to wait til 10 days past the NHS due date to make an appearance, while we know due dates are kind of BS it’s a tricky one as hospitals, midwives and even homebirths of course base their services on this date. We are mentally preparing to decline medical interventions, which does put a bit of pressure on. Two days before Michelle is up all night with contractions? Cramps? Braxton hicks? Grandparents had offered to pick up our eldest from nursery and for her to stay with them for the night. Being on the cautious side, we agreed — things seemed to be getting going! Turns out nothing did happen then and we both had a lovely uneventful night’s sleep.
From around 8am the next morning, Michelle felt some contractions. She made breakfast, pottered around the house, and had a long shower and messaged family and friends to pass the time — mentally preparing that this could also be nothing! I made my breakfast, sat in the garden, and chatted to my brother about his holiday. Around 10:45, the contractions began lasting longer and coming more often, so we called the midwives to give them a heads-up. They said someone would be over soon. I rang our doula, and she set off too.
Based on our first birth, we thought we were at the very start of a long day and night — or at least half that considering it was our second baby. Not quite so…
The moment I hung up with the midwife, Michelle turned to me and said her body was pushing, the baby was coming now. Now? Even she couldn’t believe it. The house wasn’t ready at all. I helped her out of her clothes — movement was about to get tricky — and threw down some towels. She was on all fours over the sofa, and I could already see the baby’s arrival was imminent. It was suddenly very possible this would be just the two of us.
And this is where all those birth videos paid off. I’d watched over twenty — babies born in pools, on sofas, on floors — so the scene in front of me felt almost familiar. I was calm. I knew we could do it. I trusted Michelle completely; my job was just to do my part. More often than not the anticipation of the event is more anxiety causing than once you are actually in it.
While she focused, I dashed around fetching ice packs, cold flannels, prepping the sofa, and talking to her, reminding her that this was going to be amazing. I even inflated and filled the birth pool in record time, knowing full well we were probably too far along to use it. Still, it was comforting for Michelle to know it was there, since we’d planned to use water for relief, if not the birth itself, from the start.
At 11:15, there was a knock at the door. The window cleaner. Definitely not a good time. A few minutes later — another knock. This time it was a midwife. Quick, come in!
Our regular midwife had gone on holiday the day before, so we had a different lovely midwife who guided Michelle through the very final surges, and eleven minutes later, our daughter was born. I even managed to prop my phone up to film the final moments, which wasn’t planned and Michelle is still thrilled to have. Five minutes later, our doula arrived, followed shortly by the second midwife.
For the next two hours it was checks on baby and mum, birthing the placenta naturally, paperwork, cups of tea and biscuits, skin on skin time with the baby who instinctively knew what to do with breastfeeding. Seeing a brand new baby find its way to the boob minutes after being born is something miraculous. By 2pm everyone had left and it was just the 3 of us. At home, doors open to the garden, lying on the sofa with a sleeping baby. Shellshocked and in disbelief in the best possible way. We did it!
Reflection on choice and options:
Before becoming a parent, I had a simplistic view of birth. In my mind, you went to the hospital, the doctors and nurses took charge, and as the partner you were simply there to offer support. It’s the story we’re shown again and again on television and in films.
What I’ve since learned is very different: as parents, you actually have a huge amount of choice in how, when, and where birth happens. You have the right to advocate for yourselves, to make decisions that reflect your wishes, and the NHS will support those choices.
The challenge, however, is that along the way you may meet professionals who — often without even realising it — bring their own preferences into the conversation and can steer parents toward a path that doesn’t fully align with their needs or desires.
I wanted to share this story because it was through hearing the real experiences of others that I found the most insight and reassurance.
