Dear Sarah,

Congratulations on your pregnancy. I know it was a shock and you weren’t really ready for it, but your baby has chosen you, because this is the perfect time. It might not feel like it, but trust me, it’ll all be ok.

You’ve been to Starbucks, picked up a cheap test from the Superdrug opposite, and hoped that you’re as mental as the other 3,428 times you were a day late. You’ve peed on the stick and seen the little line. You picked out the other test and did that after your large caramel macchiato. You’re feeling sick – you wonder if it’s the cream or the fact that you’re about to tell your husband that you’re adding to your family. He’s in a different country, things aren’t exactly perfect between you, and you’ve both been under so much stress. Please know that it’ll all be ok.

Later that day, you wish you could just get through a few Hendricks, and knock yourself out for the night. You hope you’ll wake up and realise it was all a bad dream. You’re scared and you’re alone. You pull your toddler in close, as you tell him how much you love him, and how he’s the most perfect little being in the world. You’re terrified of having another traumatic birth. I want you to know that it’ll be ok.

You can’t switch off. You lie in bed every night, wide awake and staring at the ceiling while your husband lies next to you, snoring deep in his slumber. Your nightmares and cold sweats are happening more often, becoming more vivid, and frightening you when you wake up. I know you don’t want to go to sleep because you’re scared they’ll get worse, but you need sleep my love. You need to rest. I want you to know it’ll be ok.

You’re in therapy now, and you’re working through your birth trauma. You’ve been told you’re anxious and depressed. Your family don’t see why you’re kicking up such a fuss – your poorly baby is now thriving. They’re not helping things, and you feel like you’re on your own. You’re not my love, you have so many people who love you and who care for you. They’ll help you through. I want you to know, it’ll all be ok.

You feel fantastic in your pregnancy – you’re glowing, you’re energised and you’re radiantly beautiful. Your bump is humungous and everything is exciting. Until you remember… you felt this glow before, and it was a false reassurance. I want you to know that every pregnancy is different, and my darling, you’re a fighter. It’ll all be ok.

You’re getting closer to your due date, and you’re totally overwhelmed. You never thought you’d get this far! You’ve got an amazing team around you, and you feel totally prepared. You know yourself, it’ll all be ok.

You’ve got the birth pool set up, you get in and feel the water, warm against your skin. The contractions are taking your breath away, but you feel more powerful than ever before. You can just tell it’s all going to be ok.

You get to transition, and you say “I can’t do it”. Your midwife tells you that you are doing it, and you know she’s right. You know it’s all going ok.

You shout at the top of your voice that this fucking baby is coming, and it does. You catch him, and you hold him to your chest. You did it. You took control of your pregnancy and you did what you knew was right for you. You doubted yourself every step of the way but you did it. You fucking did it!

You’re a goddess, and I wish you’d have known from the start that it wouldn’t just be “ok”. It’d be better than ok. It’d be the most amazing, exhilarating & powerful moment of your life.

You never knew the power you had inside, until you truly needed to pull from it, and this pregnancy took every last bit.  You’re incredible. I just wish you knew it from the start.



My husband was the most amazing supporter of me during pregnancy, he listened to my worries, he held me as I cried. He was as scared as I was but he was my rock.

But my midwives… oh my goodness, my midwives were out of this world. Even thinking about them now brings tears of joy and happiness to me. They supported every single decision I made. They supported me when I was on top of the world and when I was the lowest I’d ever felt. They seemed to just get it. They got me.

I wish I could have known then, what I know now. But I guess I wouldn’t have learnt all that I needed to learn.

My amazing midwives were Sharyn & Claire (mostly) and also Debs & Chris of the Yorkshire Storks. They are independent midwives, and members of the IMUK, whose members are currently under a witch-hunt (my words, not theirs) by the NMC. They’re raising funds to cover their legal fees (approx 40k) and my way of helping is that I’ve created a baby massage course that I’ll give you free in exchange for a £30 donation to their gofundme campaign.

All you need to do is donate, and in the caption, write that it’s “in exchange for a baby massage course with Sarah” Then screenshot and send it to me at – I’ll send you all the bits and pieces you need to enrol. This is only til the 1st October though, and there’s another 4k to raise by then, so please help us to raise the funds.

With love,


Photo by FloorTwelve on Unsplash

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