Two years before I even got pregnant, I began preparing my body and doing research. I was practising what I now know as conscious conception, really informing myself as if I was preparing for a wedding. Some people think that is extreme, but to me it is far more surprising that many only open their first pregnancy book after they are already expecting. There is so much to learn and consider before conception even begins. I also practise something quite different, psychic healing meditation, which I began studying five years ago. It is a beautiful way of working with energy to heal yourself or others. I fell in love with it and used these tools during birth. Now I focus more on helping women in preconception and birth with these practices.

As the oldest of six children, I never grew up fearing birth. I was born at home, and when I was eight I witnessed one of my siblings being born. I remember my mum in the morning, swaying on hands and knees to classical music, almost like a gentle dance. There was no screaming or panic, just heavy breathing and the calm words, “Oh honey, the baby’s coming.” It was all from a place of deep trust.

In the Netherlands, where I am from, home birth is common and midwives lead maternity care. My partner was also born at home, so we both naturally leaned toward that path.

At 28 weeks, my belly was easy to palpate and I could feel Sol’s little skull up under my ribs. I could even see it move from one side to the other. He never turned head down. When I told my midwife, I noticed concern. At 32 weeks, a scan confirmed what I already knew: he was breech.

Her only suggestion was a C-section. I was devastated for a moment because I had planned my birth so carefully, and I felt disappointed that this was her only advice. I decided I was not going to accept that without exploring other options.

I found a podcast by a chiropractor interviewing doctors who attended vaginal breech births. Their conditions included induction, epidural, and delivering in the operating theatre. I was glad this option existed but knew I would not feel relaxed or open giving birth in that environment. My dad had been born breech in the seventies and was fine, so I trusted that more was possible.

Through my doula and Instagram research, I discovered Dr Floris, a medical doctor who attends breech births, including footling breech and twins, at home. She works outside the system but is medically trained. My doula also recommended a new midwife, and to my surprise, they shared an office. At 36 weeks I switched to their care.

In the lead-up to birth, I would rehearse my ideal birth in meditation each night before sleep. I let go of whether Sol would be head down or breech. I even wondered if he chose breech to be closer to my heart during a time when I was grieving the distance from my family due to COVID.

The day before labour, I lost my mucus plug. By midnight, contractions were stronger but irregular. At 5 am, I woke knowing this was the real thing. I grounded myself and connected with the baby. My birth team arrived at 7 am, and I found myself in our garden surrounded by bamboo, on hands and knees, breathing in the cool morning air with birds singing.

When the doctor checked me, I was already six centimetres. It was painful but I was calm and confident.

When it came time to push, the energy shifted. I told my midwife I was scared, which was the first time I had expressed fear. She thanked me for sharing, and I kept speaking my thoughts so nothing would block the labour. I tried several positions, but the pool was not right for the strength I needed with breech. I ended up on hands and knees at the end of my bed, using a birthing stool and even a squatty potty.

During pushing, Sol’s heart rate would drop then recover. I had to stay in trust. My partner was in front of me, describing what he saw: “His bum is out, one leg is out, the other leg is out, one arm…” It was so encouraging because pain had blurred my sense of what was happening.

When his head came, it was within a minute. Breech babies are not touched before the head is born, so as not to startle them. Sol was a little floppy at first but recovered quickly. My husband cried with relief.

Postpartum was harder than I expected. Being away from family was a lot, and Sol needed time to settle after his breech birth. He mostly slept on us, which meant my own rest was limited. I later learned he had low sleep needs and high energy, which was simply his normal. Knowing that earlier would have saved me a lot of self-doubt.

The turning point was when I began caring for myself again, even in small ways. Fifteen minutes of meditation in the sun shifted everything. Taking care of myself lifted the fog.

For any woman whose baby is breech, tune in to your intuition and your baby. Surround yourself with a birth team who fully support you. Even though we birth our babies ourselves, having a village amplifies our strength. Trust yourself, trust your baby, and trust birth.

As told by Esmee Geeratz