My postnatal story

My daughter, Sienna, was born on her due date at home in our living room – the happiest moment of my life and the beginning of the most life-changing role I could imagine. But nothing could have prepared me for the intensity of the fourth trimester.

I had always dreamed of being a mother, and since I was a little girl, I imagined it would come naturally. But the reality was different. Our early postnatal weeks were filled with challenges – tongue tie, breastfeeding struggles, and the weight of postnatal anxiety. To make things harder, three weeks before Sienna arrived, my mum was diagnosed with breast cancer. Her treatment began shortly after Sienna was born, and not having her physically or emotionally available during those early days was heartbreaking.

I deeply felt the absence of motherly energy – someone to wrap me in a warm hug and tell me everything would be okay. Like so many other mothers, I craved that village of support I had heard about but never found. Rob, my husband, returned to work as a teacher after two short weeks, and I experienced loneliness and overwhelm like never before.

In those long early days (and even longer nights), I found myself at 3 am desperately Googling every little issue, trying to solve things I felt I should instinctively know. I signed up for reflux courses, devoured Instagram advice, and booked infant feeding clinics, hoping someone could rescue our breastfeeding journey. The mixed messages from healthcare professionals left me confused and exhausted. I was told to consider anxiety medication, but I knew that wasn’t the answer.

Those first twelve weeks and beyond were a blur – a cocktail of exhaustion, depletion, and isolation. I often wished for someone to step in and hold my hand, to guide me through the fog.

But the fourth trimester didn’t break me. It shaped me. I emerged more resilient and determined to ensure no other mum felt as lost as I did. When Sienna was six months old, I trained as a postnatal doula. Through therapy, reflection, and writing down my experiences, I began to process what I had been through.

When Sienna had just turned two, we experienced the heartbreak of miscarriage. This loss opened my eyes to another area where support was profoundly lacking – the postnatal period after pregnancy loss. I realised that just as I had longed for someone to hold space for me after birth, I needed someone to hold me through grief and recovery.

Through my work, I now offer holistic treatments to honour and nurture mothers. These sessions help release emotional pain, support physical healing, and offer a space to process and grieve. There is often silence around miscarriage – I want to be part of the gentle, loving support that breaks that silence and wraps mothers in care.

Why I Do This Work

I believe deeply in nurturing new mothers – not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. Matrescence, the transition to motherhood, is monumental. I want to help mothers trust their instincts, feel seen and supported, and step into their new identity with confidence and strength.

In 2020, I trained in Kinesiology – a powerful tool that supports physical and emotional healing. It’s now an integral part of my practice, offering mothers holistic care that restores, rebalances, and revitalises.

I adore natural health, long baths, yoga, musicals, and community. I live in a little white cottage in Thames Ditton with Rob and Sienna, and I feel incredibly lucky to be part of this village.

If you are feeling lost, overwhelmed, or just in need of nurturing, heart-centred support, I would love to hold space for you.