Mummy, You Are Not Alone 

Before Lainey was born, I had a very different idea of what birth would look like.

Like many women, I imagined something calm, instinctive and magical.

But birth — and motherhood — rarely follow a perfect script.

I wrote the following piece not long after Lainey arrived, while I was still processing the experience. I’ve gently tidied the words since then, but the heart of it remains the same.

If your journey looked different from what you expected too…
this is for you.

Mummy, You Are Not Alone 

Ever dream of the perfect birth? 

Ever meditate and manifest a quick labour — one free of complications? 

Ever watch social media and begin to believe that labour is always a beautiful, magical experience shared by women all over the world? 

Ever trust that your body will just know what to do? 

Ever believe that once it’s over, you’ll forget the pain? 

Ever realise that this “magical experience” isn’t every woman’s story — and that sometimes the reality is very different? 

So to all the women out there who had the same knee-jerk realisation I did… 
that birth wasn’t what you expected or imagined — 

You are not alone. 

You are not alone when you go well beyond your due date, wondering if your body will ever kick into gear. 

You are not alone when you start counting every passing moment, quietly worrying about the ticking clock of your placenta. 

Could it be today? 

You are not alone if you require — or choose — an induction or other intervention. 
And you are not alone when labour stretches on far longer than you ever imagined. 

You are not alone when, many hours in, you choose an epidural simply because exhaustion has taken over and your body needs a little help. 

Know that you have not failed. 

You simply needed a hand — and many women before you have reached for that same hand. 

When labour feels overwhelming and your body seems to have a mind of its own, know again that you are not alone. 

And when the hours continue to stretch on while you wait and hope things will move forward, remember that wherever your journey leads — even if it looks different from what you imagined — it is still a powerful one. 

And yet, even through all of this… 
you keep going. 

As the nurses help you identify contractions so you can begin pushing your baby into the world — even when your body feels numb and exhausted — keep giving it everything you have. 

You’ve got this, superwoman. 

But if another hurdle appears halfway through, and suddenly the room grows from two health professionals to ten… 

Know that my heart is with you in that moment. 

You are never truly alone. 

Your baby is coming. 

When your little peanut finally arrives and is rushed away so the team can make sure that the tiny life begins safely, know that you are not alone as you watch from across the room — feeling completely helpless. 

And you are certainly not alone when the tears finally fall as you hold your little peanut for the very first time. 

Tears of relief. 
Tears of disbelief that the nightmare is over. 
Tears because your bright little light is finally safe in your arms. 

Then when the battle of the aftermath begins, remember this: 

Your body is a story — not a symptom. 

You will heal. 

With time, care, and support, this too will pass. 

You are never alone, so do not be afraid to reach out to the other mums who truly understand every raw and messy moment. 

When your baby struggles to latch and you find yourself awake all night because your little one is hungry, it is okay to try other ways of feeding. 

You have not failed. 

You have simply forged a new path to reach the same goal: a healthy, well-fed baby. 

Whatever path unfolds from here, know that these are the right decisions for you. 

Never doubt yourself, mummy. 

You are incredible — no matter the magical or bloody journey that brought you here. 

This piece is not written to discredit the beautiful mummas who experienced magic throughout their birthing journey. 

My slice of magic simply came in the moment my little peanut arrived safely. 

Instead, this is for the mothers whose journeys didn’t fit the perfect mould of childbirth we are often sold. 

This is for the mothers who had to walk through the forbidden forest to reach their pot of gold. 

And sometimes… carry that gold back through the forest while slowly finding their way back to balance within themselves. 

I want every mum to know this: 

There are countless other mothers cheering you on right now. 

You are incredible. 

You are doing a wonderful job. 

No matter the path you have walked to get here. 

Keep going mumma. 

With love always, 
Mumma Nic