My VBA3C Birth Story: Trusting My Body After Three Caesareans
If you’re planning a VBAC after multiple caesareans, I want you to read this gently.
Not as pressure.
Not as a “this is what your birth should look like.”
But as proof that another experience is possible.
This is the birth of my fourth baby. My VBA3C (vaginal birth after three caesareans) in Cambridgeshire, UK.
It was long. Emotional. At times, incredibly hard.
But it was also the first time I truly felt like my body and my voice were trusted.
My previous births: how I got here
My first birth, at 19, began with an induction at 41 weeks for being “overdue.”
What followed was a cascade of interventions that ended in an emergency caesarean.
My second birth, I planned a home birth after caesarean (HBAC).
But by 34 weeks, fear had crept in quietly and steadily and I chose a repeat caesarean.
My third birth was during Covid.
At 41+5, I was coerced into another caesarean. I felt dismissed, unheard, and unsupported, both during the birth and afterwards. That experience stayed with me in a way I couldn’t ignore.
Each birth left its mark.
And going into my fourth pregnancy, I knew one thing clearly:
Something had to feel different this time.
Pregnancy after three caesareans in the NHS
My NHS due date was 1st July, but I instinctively felt my baby would arrive between 25th–28th June.
From early on, this pregnancy felt less like a journey and more like a constant negotiation.
At appointments, I was repeatedly told:
my baby might die
my uterus might rupture
I could haemorrhage
I might face shoulder dystocia
These conversations weren’t balanced or supportive. They were rooted in fear.
Even with the consultant midwife and head of midwifery involved, I often felt like I was having to defend well-informed decisions about my own body.
It was exhausting.
And at times, it took a real toll on my mental health.
Labour begins
On 25th June, I started losing my mucus plug.
By the 27th, there was a quiet shift; pressure, discomfort, a sense that something was beginning. I even took the car to the mechanic for new brake pads and discs (a very practical form of nesting).
That evening, I baked a pineapple upside-down cake with my son.
Nothing dramatic. Just…different.
On the morning of the 29th, I woke with nerve pain in my leg, something I regularly experience due to hypermobility.
Then at 7:30am, my first contraction came.
The slow build
The contractions started gently but steadily built throughout the day.
By lunchtime, I got into the bath, and everything shifted.
They became stronger. Closer together. More demanding of my attention.
Soon, they were every five minutes.
This was it.
A change of plans
We called the hospital to arrange support for my planned home birth after three caesareans (HBA3C).
We were told the homebirth service wasn’t available.
At the time, I felt completely deflated. I believed that meant the end of my homebirth.
Looking back, I don’t believe that information was entirely accurate but in that moment, we made a decision.
We called my mum to come and be with the children.
With her support and my husband’s, I made my way to the car on all fours, the only position that felt manageable.
There was a real sense I might give birth on the way.
Arriving at hospital
At triage, I agreed to a vaginal examination even though it hadn’t been part of my plan.
I just needed to know:
Was this really happening?
I was 4cm.
Everything moved quickly after that.
I was taken to a birth pool room, and eventually gas and air was brought in.
Labour unfolds
I laboured in the pool for around 90 minutes.
Baby was low; so low that they struggled to find her heartbeat with the Doppler, which led to further checks and a scan.
The doctor who entered the room was the same consultant from my third birth.
The one who had previously coerced me.
I turned away from her.
I grounded myself in my husband instead.
When she asked how long I wanted to push for, I said:
“As long as me and baby are OK, for as long as I need.”
She didn’t like that answer.
And she left.
The moment everything shifted
Not long after, my body took over.
The pushing urge came. It was intense, involuntary, impossible to ignore.
This was the fetal ejection reflex (FER).
I moved instinctively, between all fours and leaning back.
Then suddenly, my waters released in a huge gush.
After that, everything intensified.
Each surge brought more pressure, more sensation, more certainty that my baby was coming.
The birth
Then came the stinging.
The stretch.
The moment people call the “ring of fire.”
The midwife lifted the sheet and said:
“Oh my goodness! There’s the head!”
With one push, her head was born.
With the next, her body followed.
At 22:14, I heard my husband say:
“It’s a girl.”
And all I could say, over and over, was:
“I did it. I did it.”
After the birth
I experienced a postpartum haemorrhage of 1.2 litres and chose to have the injection and fluids.
My placenta was delivered intact.
I had two second-degree tears, but only one required stitches.
I avoided theatre.
She weighed 9lb 13.5oz and was placed straight onto my chest.
We stayed overnight and were home the next day.
What this birth did (and didn’t) heal
I put so much into this birth; emotionally, mentally, physically.
And afterwards, I felt a kind of quiet comedown.
Because while this experience was deeply healing…
It didn’t erase everything that came before.
But it gave me something incredibly important:
Clarity.
My body was never broken.
It was the system that made me feel like it was.
Planning a VBAC or VBA3C in the UK?
If you’re navigating a VBAC after one, two, three or even four caesareans, especially within the NHS, I want you to know this:
You deserve clear information.
You deserve to feel supported.
You deserve to have a voice in your care.
I now support women as a doula in Cambridgeshire, Bedfordshire, and Northamptonshire, particularly those planning a VBAC or feeling overwhelmed by antenatal care.
If you’re feeling unsure, dismissed, or like you’re constantly having to advocate for yourself…
You don’t have to do that alone. Get in touch here.