As a pregnancy yoga teacher and birth educator, my understanding of pregnancy and childbirth has evolved over the years, shaped by personal experience, study, and immersion in the world of the "alternative birth movement." This movement, which promotes natural, physiological birth and eschews medical intervention unless absolutely necessary, has profoundly influenced my views. After the euphoric birth of my daughter Esme, free from any medical interference, I became an advocate for trusting the body's natural ability to birth, often questioning what I saw as an overly medicalised maternity system.

However, the birth of my second child, Benjamin, challenged my beliefs in ways I never anticipated, forcing me to reconcile my idealistic views with the reality that, sometimes, medical intervention is not only necessary but life-saving. It also highlighted the complexities surrounding the alternative birth movement, raising important questions about whether it truly serves all women or if it sometimes sets them up for unnecessary risk, disappointment, or even danger.

A "Textbook" First Birth That Shaped My Views

My journey into the alternative birth movement began after the birth of my daughter Esme. Her birth was exactly what I had hoped for—spontaneous, unmedicated, and free from intervention. It unfolded naturally, without the need for pain relief or medical involvement, and I emerged from the experience feeling empowered and in awe of my body’s capabilities. I had defied the fear-based narratives surrounding childbirth and was convinced that most women could have a similarly empowering experience if left to birth without unnecessary interference.

This experience solidified my belief that medicalised births often prioritise hospital protocols over the natural process of labour, leading to a cascade of interventions that rob women of the empowering potential of birth. I became passionate about promoting physiological birth, believing that birth is best when left to unfold as nature intended. This conviction led me to pursue further education, qualifying as a pregnancy yoga instructor and immersing myself in the world antenatal education and hypnobirthing.

A Sudden Change of Plans: Benjamin’s Diagnosis

When I became pregnant with Benjamin, I was determined to replicate my first experience—a peaceful, intervention-free birth, ideally at home. I envisioned a water birth surrounded by calm and the comfort of my own home. However, at 33 weeks, my plans were thrown into turmoil during a routine growth scan at Burnley Hospital. The ultrasound revealed that I had polyhydramnios (excess amniotic fluid), and Benjamin’s stomach appeared smaller than expected. Further investigations indicated that Benjamin might have tracheoesophageal fistula (TOF), a rare condition where the oesophagus and windpipe are improperly connected. This meant that Benjamin would require surgery shortly after birth.

At that moment, my entire outlook on medical intervention began to shift. The scan that I had nearly declined—the very intervention I was so sceptical about—turned out to be the key to ensuring Benjamin’s survival. Without it, his condition would have gone undetected, and the consequences could have been devastating. Yet, I had come close to saying no to the scan, influenced by my deep-seated belief that too much medical involvement could disrupt the natural course of pregnancy and birth.

The Near Miss: Why I Almost Declined the Life-Saving Scan

My reluctance to accept the ultrasound stemmed from the core beliefs I had nurtured during my first pregnancy. I saw birth as a physiological process that, for the most part, should not be interrupted by medical procedures. When I was offered additional growth scans due to my low Papp-A levels earlier in the pregnancy, I hesitated. These scans seemed unnecessary to me, just another step towards a more medicalised experience that might ultimately take away my control over the birth process.

But something inside me told me to go through with the scan at 33 weeks, despite my reservations. When the results came back, showing signs of TOF, everything changed. This diagnosis altered the course of my pregnancy, leading to specialist care at Manchester’s St. Mary’s Hospital and a complete rethinking of my birth plan. I was forced to let go of the dream of a home birth and prepare for the reality of a highly medicalised delivery, far from the natural birth I had envisioned.

Confronting the Impact of the Alternative Birth Movement

As I grappled with the news of Benjamin’s condition, I also began to question the broader implications of the alternative birth movement I had been so deeply aligned with. Had I not accepted that scan, we would have had no warning about Benjamin’s condition, and we wouldn’t have been prepared for the life-saving care he needed immediately after birth. This was a sobering realisation: my adherence to a philosophy that prioritised minimal intervention could have led to a far worse outcome.

“This led me to a bigger question—how many other women, influenced by the same movement, are declining important medical interventions in the name of “natural birth”? ”

This led me to a bigger question—how many other women, influenced by the same movement, are declining important medical interventions in the name of "natural birth"? While the alternative birth movement undoubtedly empowers women to trust their bodies and advocate for their birth preferences, it also carries the risk of promoting an overly rigid view of what an "ideal" birth should look like. This can leave women feeling as though they’ve failed if they need interventions, or worse, it can put them and their babies at risk.

A Necessary Shift in Perspective

My experience with Benjamin forced me to confront the complexities of birth in a way I hadn’t expected. Despite my fears of a medicalised birth, the care I received during my pregnancy, birth, and Benjamin’s post-birth surgery saved his life. This was not the intervention-free birth I had hoped for, but it was a positive birth nonetheless. I realised that sometimes, the safest and most empowering choice is to accept medical intervention when it’s truly necessary.

I was especially grateful for the care and preparation provided by the team at St. Mary’s FANS clinic, who walked us through what to expect and introduced us to the neonatal specialists and surgeon who would care for Benjamin. They helped me prepare emotionally and practically for Benjamin’s time in the NICU, ensuring that, despite the complexity of the situation, I still felt informed and involved in the decision-making process.

Moving Forward: A Call for Balance in the Birth Conversation

As I reflect on my journey, I’m left with a more nuanced view of childbirth. The alternative birth movement has brought much-needed attention to the importance of consent, bodily autonomy, and the power of informed decision-making. However, it is vital that we strike a balance. Not every birth will go according to plan, and medical interventions are sometimes necessary to ensure the safety of both mother and baby.

Birth is unpredictable, and while we should always strive to empower women to make choices that align with their values, we must also acknowledge that those choices may need to change as circumstances evolve. We need to create a birth culture that supports and respects women, whether they have a natural, home birth or a medicalised hospital birth—or anything in between.

For me, the most important lesson has been learning to trust not only my body but also the medical professionals who are there to help. A positive birth is not about avoiding interventions at all costs—it’s about being informed, feeling empowered, and ensuring the best possible outcome for both mother and baby.

“The most important lesson has been learning to trust not only my body but also the medical professionals who are there to help”

Why I Nearly Declined the Ultrasound Scan That Saved Our Baby’s Life: Is the Rise of the Alternative Birth Movement Doing More Harm Than Good?