Here’s the thing: I’m a homebody.

Thriving in my kitchen kingdom… something yummy bubblin’ on the stove, piano jazz playing, matcha whisking like my morning depends on it (because it does.) Me in my element, baby.

So when it came time to birth a baby, naturally, I chose my home turf.

And friends? Let me just say: choosing a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) home birth over returning to the land of hospital peanut-butter-toast-trauma was one of my easiest decisions. (A tale for another day involving my son Edgar, a breech situation, and toast that tasted like despair.)

So let’s talk about this birth. Because wow. WOW.

There’s a special kind of alchemy that happens when your intuition, your stubborn streak, and your deep desire to avoid hospital toast collide. Add to that my freezer stash of homemade barley no-beef soup at the ready, and the decision was pretty simple.

But this post isn’t the how — the affirmations, teas, dates, exercises, birth prep rituals — because I already covered all of that in my VBAC birth plan video. (And trust me, if you’re cooking up your own home birth plan, you’re going to want to watch that one.)

This post is the story, and boy, it’s a doozy.

It wasn’t just the comfort of my own bed. Or the fact that I could labor to Bach and Debussy (as one does). Or the way my husband Arnold diffused eucalyptus and lavender like he was preparing the world’s most serene EDM festival…

It was the sheer rightness of being home.

The privacy. The calm. The fact that, after pushing out a nine-pound baby, I could simply crawl into my own bed like a wounded woodland creature and whisper, “I live here.”

So let’s get into the video! I walk you through the full story — the clary sage, the contractions that politely woke me from my nap, the last 30 minutes where I absolutely came unhinged (because… honesty is my brand), the midwife heroics, the banshee screaming, and the moment my sweet baby boy finally arrived.

Anyway, here’s what I know: Birth is the most holy of insane chaos. Because, dude… I’m still recovering. I’m still processing. And I’m still staring at this baby like he’s the plot twist of the century. But I’m also profoundly grateful — for my team, for my body, for the chance to do this differently. (And for, like, the ability to bleed in my own shower. Truly, life’s simple pleasures. Ha!)

I’d love to hear from you, reader. Did you have an out-of-the-box birth experience, or are you planning one? What made you choose (or consider) something different from the standard hospital birth? Tell me everything in the comments. I adore reading your stories.

Annnnd back to nursing…