A Birth Story, A Creative Rebirth

Hello Beautiful Souls,

I wanted to take a moment to share something very close to my heart — a personal story that’s been transforming my life and inspiring my work in ways I hadn’t fully imagined.

Just recently, I welcomed another little life into the world — a baby boy.
It was an experience filled with calm, strength, and deep connection. A reminder of the power of patience, flow, and creating space for something truly sacred to emerge.

This was my second birth — once again in the comfort of my own home, in a warm pool of water, surrounded by candlelight, my loving husband, and a deep sense of harmony.
I had done this before, but this time was different.

My first birth was magical, but I don’t remember such peace and surrender. My first boy came into the world with strength and fire — and he paved the way for his little brother. A little warrior. I felt like a warrior too. That birth was 30 hours long — a “what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger” kind of experience.

But this time... I felt like I left this world.

I was floating in another dimension. It was heavenly. Angelic. Dreamlike.
It was everything but pain.
And within just three hours, I birthed my beautiful baby.

It began on Thursday morning, the 29th of May. I woke up after a night of broken sleep — nothing unusual for late pregnancy — but this day felt different. I felt spacey, and a little crampy. I looked at my husband and said, “Today is the day.”
He lit up with giddy excitement and started pacing the house.

Our tradition now is to go to Tesco for a final shop — newborn nappies, wipes, food, and litres of sparkling water to make our special “labourade.” I had been mentally preparing for months, knowing labour could last for hours — maybe days — and that I’d need to surrender to whatever it became.

We got home around 1:30pm. Things were slowly picking up, but I was still able to go about my day. I put our toddler down for his nap, a little later than usual. I kissed him, held him tight — and cried.
I knew this would be the last time it would be just us.
He was about to become a big brother.

I told my husband to start filling the birth pool while I lay on the ground, swaying my hips over the edge of the bed, breathing through contractions. He had no idea how “in it” I already was. The oxytocin was surging through me — I felt like I was floating. He tried to make eye contact with me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. I was already in a different space.

By 3pm, the pool was ready, and the temperature was perfect.
I got in and melted to the bottom.

With each contraction, I kneeled on all fours, breathing softly and calmly. It still didn’t feel “hard.” Between contractions, I would drape myself over the side of the pool and drift into a dreamy, psychedelic state.

Then suddenly — the urge to push.
I bore down and felt my waters burst with a loud pop. I was shocked.
Oh my god, it’s happening.

Another push — I felt the ring of fire — and then his head emerged.
Moments later, his whole body followed, slipping gently into the water.

I swept him up into my arms. I cried. I laughed.
My husband let out a sound — a joyful, overwhelmed cry — and we held each other, laughing and shaking with awe.

“You made that look so easy,” he said, still in shock.

We looked at the clock — it was just 4pm.

He rushed to wake our toddler, who had just woken up at the exact moment his baby brother was born. The timing was so divine.

I had worried how he might react if he’d seen the labour — but everything unfolded exactly as it was meant to. So organically, with trust. What will be, will be.

This birth reminded me why I create the way I do — with slowness, trust, and deep intention. It showed me that softness is not weakness, and that true power often comes quietly. To fully commit and fully surrender to each wave — that’s the practice. These are the same values I bring into my creative work: allowing beauty to unfold without force, letting intuition lead, and opening to transformation at every turn.

As I return to my work, I carry this energy with me — a new layer of devotion, presence, and quiet magic, woven into every piece I make. I’m deeply grateful to all of you who supported my business in the lead-up to this new chapter. Your presence helped carve the path for this transformation. Moving forward, I’m choosing quality over quantity, authenticity over appearance, and commitment over convenience. I’ll be adding new pieces slowly, starting with two of my favourites: Maison Rouge and Emberleaf Gold — intricate designs embroidered in luminous gold sequins.

While a full collection is something I hope to release in mid-2026, for now I’ll be sharing new creations gently — once a month, or simply when inspiration calls. This slower rhythm mirrors the sacred pace of my life right now, shaped by presence, motherhood, and deep creative trust.