Ewelina & Sam’s Birth Story. August 2025.

I want to share my story with as many women as I can, so they might know that pregnancy and birth can be among the most wondrous experiences a woman will ever live. At first, I felt guilty for having such a beautiful journey, but now I understand: it is vital that more women hear stories like this, that they learn about hypnobirthing and the profound shift it can create in the mind and heart.

Sam and I eloped in Fiji in October 2024, and not long after—in November—we were blessed with the conception of our baby girl. The pregnancy unfolded smoothly, supported with love and guidance by Robina. She led us toward an acupuncturist, a pelvic-floor specialist, and an extraordinary private midwife. 

In the beginning, I carried hesitation, nerves, even fear. Nearly everyone I knew seemed to hold a story of trauma, and their words had planted themselves inside me. But through the course, I learned to stop absorbing other people’s fears. I became a guardian of my own mind, allowing in only what felt good, true, and nourishing.

It was a colleague who first mentioned hypnobirthing to me. I had never heard of it—only of pain and fear. But when I began to look into it, something inside me lit up. The possibility of a calm, even pain-free, birth felt like a revelation.

I found Robina after asking a midwife at the hospital about hypnobirthing, also sharing that my dream was to have a water birth. And once I learned more, everything shifted. I became determined to experience a natural, empowered birth. As the weeks counted down, I meditated daily, ate six dates a day and drank raspberry leaf tea.

I always had a quiet intuition that our baby girl would arrive early. And at 39 weeks, she did. My waters broke in the bathroom of our local shopping centre—while Sam was two hours away in Ballarat test-driving what would become our family car. My mum was with me, and she stayed as Sam raced home. I was adamant: I did not want to be induced. After a brief hospital check, I was sent home to await the surges to begin.

They began lightly and the next day I visited the acupuncturist Robina had recommended. She gave me herbs to encourage labour, and a few hours later the surges grew stronger and more frequent.

It was incredible to remember everything we had learned: the rebozo, the breathing, the spiky balls that became my favourite distraction, the TENS machine, affirmation cards, voice work, essential oils, warm water, light touch. The sensations grew intense—unlike anything I had ever felt—but the techniques made me feel powerful and grounded. I reminded myself of the millions of women who had birthed before me, and how natural this process is in the animal kingdom.

I couldn’t use the bath, as my waters had been broken for more than 24 hours, so instead I laboured in my shower at home for almost two hours—on the birth ball, standing, swaying, breathing, with candles lit and essential oils swirling through the air. My husband and our private midwife were with me, steady and loving.

As midnight approached—more than 24 hours since my waters had broken—I wanted to go to the hospital. But my midwife gently encouraged me to stay home a little longer. To this day, I am grateful she did. She knew exactly when to offer touch, breath, oils, encouragement. Her faith in me kept me going. My husband also helped throughout the process and he regularly helped with light touch massage, breathing techniques and visualisation.

When I could no longer speak words and could only move with the sound of my own voice, the surges became deeper, closer. I felt like I needed the toilet, and that was the sign—the baby’s head was descending, right there in our apartment.

I still remember walking out of the building wearing only a large maternity pad, a nightgown, and sunglasses. Luckily it was midnight and there was not a soul to be seen. Sam played calming music in the car, the streets were empty, and I held my TENS machine and spiky balls all the way to the hospital.

I continued surging through reception and into the birthing suite, which was decorated with fairy lights. I remember stepping inside and thinking I had crossed into another realm.

I was only in the hospital for about an hour. After one hour of active labour—the pushing phase—and a few soft puffs of gas, our baby girl, Mila Santana, had arrived!

The team that night was gentle, encouraging, angelic. I used the rose-petal breathing technique to birth her, and the methods from my pelvic-floor specialist to birth the placenta—no injection needed.

It was an incredible, primal, sacred feeling to birth her vaginally. I remember feeling the umbilical cord still connecting us while Sam held Mila for the first time. It was joy and relief and awe and something beyond words all at once. 

I spent two nights in the hospital before going home, eager to begin breastfeeding and motherhood.

Those first days were fuelled by adrenaline—little sleep, a few tears, endless nappies, feeding and learning and learning again. 

My appreciation for women has expanded in ways I never expected. I recommend hypnobirthing to every woman—the education, the love, the support that Robina gives is like nothing else. Without it, I doubt I would have made the same choices or felt so informed, calm, and empowered.

My positive birth is a testament to Robina, to everyone she recommended, and to the hypnobirthing techniques that changed everything for me. When I look back on my pregnancy and Mila’s birth, all I feel is joy, gratitude, and an immense, overwhelming love—one that I want every woman to know is possible.