Chloe
Welcome To the World
Gia Florence McDougall
Chloe and Sam McDougall
The Birth of Gia Florence EDD 7th of April 2025
Born at 39 weeks and 1 day
Born 1st of April 2025
8pounds and 5 ounces
50cm
"Motherhood begins long before labour — in pregnancy, where love grows and courage is forged, and in birth, where they stand side by side." — Krista McCrimmon
This will be Chloe’s third precious little baby, but the first for Chloe and Sam together. Chloe smiled and told me, “My labours aren’t long. I’ll be an easy birth for you.” I kept that in mind — but with birth, we always know anything can happen.
Chloe is special to me. She and her beautiful children, Mason and Boston, are already part of my life. Chloe is my daughter Georgia’s best friend. I’ve had the joy of meeting her soulmate, Sam, and last year I had the privilege of watching them get married. This beautiful little family of four is about to grow, with the much-anticipated birth of their baby girl.
By the 8th of February, Chloe was well into the third trimester and feeling uncomfortable most days, with a lot of pelvic pain making everything that little bit harder as her baby grew bigger.
Still, she stayed so connected to her body and the work of preparing for birth. Chloe was already well-versed in all things labour and birth, and she continued to lean in — listening to podcasts, doing her Spinning Babies exercises, and walking regularly. Even through the discomfort, she moved with purpose, staying open and ready for whatever this birth might bring.
10th February – Chloe, Sam, and I caught up at my house to talk all things birth. We spoke about support, how the two of them can work together as a team, and I gave Sam a little refresher on some Spinning Babies moves — rebozo sifting and shake the apple tree included. He was such a good sport, and it was beautiful to see how open he was to being the support Chloe needed.
Chloe isn’t keen to go over 40 weeks — she’s ready to meet her baby, and patience isn’t exactly where she’s sitting right now. She’s quietly hoping this little one might come early. Thoughts of induction are also on her mind, especially with the memories of her last two babies having tight shoulders on their way through the birth canal. I gently reminded her — in true Jiminy Cricket style — that if everything’s going well, patience usually pays off.
11th February – An ultrasound to check a possible abnormality in their baby’s tummy brought both relief and surprise. Thankfully, everything with the baby’s stomach looked perfectly fine. But the scan revealed a hidden secret — baby McDougall was breech.
The news completely threw Chloe. There were lots of tears and a deep sense of being rattled. It was a hard moment to process — the discomfort she’d been carrying for weeks now had a reason, and it wasn’t the one she’d expected. But once the shock settled, Chloe gently shifted into action.
We talked through all her options, and she was ready to meet the moment. That same day, she committed to starting the Spinning Babies Breech Protocol. That evening, I went up to their place to show Chloe and Sam how to do the program and gave them the printed guide to follow along. I also brought some moxa sticks and walked them through how to use them to help encourage the baby to turn.
Chloe is giving this everything she’s got. She’s doing the exercises, seeing a chiropractor and an acupuncturist, and even went out to buy an ironing board so they could properly do the breech tilt at home. The two of them are in this together — showing up with love, care, and so much determination.
Talks of baby making an early debut are put on hold — because now, time is what Chloe needs to help her baby turn.
14th March
I head to Chloe’s MGP appointment, and we talk through how she’s feeling about everything. There’s the option of trying an ECV to manually turn her baby, and while that’s something we can look at if needed, for now, her care providers are happy she’s continuing with the Spinning Babies work. Chloe’s putting in the effort, taking it all in stride, and she’s open to trying the ECV if her baby doesn’t turn on her own.
And I believe in her. If Chloe can keep leaning into every opportunity and we get to the end and her baby hasn’t turned, I hope she can feel peace in her heart—knowing there was nothing she could’ve done differently. That this was simply her baby’s path. But for now, I’m holding hope with her. I really do believe she can do this.
That evening, a photo pops up on my phone—Sam and Chloe, and she’s upside down on the ironing board. I can’t stop smiling. They’re doing this together. They’re already showing me they can face anything side by side.
18th March
I planned to accompany Chloe and Sam to their doctor’s appointment at the LGH.
Earlier that day, Chloe received a call from her midwife. Although the scan had clearly shown a breech baby, the written report stated otherwise. It just added to the layers of uncertainty. The same experienced midwife had palpated Chloe’s tummy on Friday and was confident the baby was breech. During the scan, Chloe had been shown her baby’s head—and she could see it clearly, up under her ribs.
Chloe had been doing everything she could. Along with the Spinning Babies Breech techniques and using the moxa sticks, she’d been regularly seeing her chiropractor and acupuncturist. She was giving her all to create space and opportunity for her baby to turn.
Over a drink at Aromas that afternoon, she mentioned that the night before, she’d felt a big movement. It had caught her attention—and she wondered what it might have meant.
At 3 pm, we made our way to the PAC clinic at the LGH. After patiently waiting for an hour and a half, Chloe was finally called in. We were met by a lovely obstetrician, and Chloe explained that we were there because her baby had been found to be breech. I added how much effort she had been putting in—doing everything she could to support her baby’s chance of turning.
The obstetrician explained that she had read the report stating the baby was head down, but suspected it may have been a typo. So, we were sent just across the corridor for another scan. We all held our breath as the sonographer began searching for her head. You couldn’t wipe the shock—or the smiles—off our faces when it became undeniably clear: this little baby girl was now head down. As plain as day, there was her head, nestled low. All of Chloe’s hard work, her commitment, and her unwavering hope had paid off.
And just like that, we were gazing at a beautiful little baby with chubby cheeks and a button nose, and a whole new path opened before us. We were back on track for a vaginal birth. I can’t describe the joy and happy tears that were felt in that room.
24th March
Chloe was having some cramping over the weekend, and today her pelvis is causing her a lot of pain. She also made her way with Sam to the LGH as she had low movements. After a few hours of monitoring baby woke up, and they were happy for her to go home. While on the monitors, Chloe had a couple of stronger contractions around 9 minutes apart. Maybe their baby is not too far from making her debut.
27th March
7.30 pm Chloe calls me to give me a heads up that she thinks she is in early labour.
Chloe, having had two babies before, says she just knows the feeling. She has been doing prenatal yoga today and gone for a walk, whipped up some lactation balls and is thinking about organising her children to go to their dads in case it kicks off in the middle of the night. Chloe has lost quite a bit of her mucus plug and is having mild contractions. As I have already been to a birth overnight, I’m thinking I'd best have a sleep now, it could be a busy night.
All stays quiet.
28th March
Chloe has a midwife appointment today. We meet there, and it’s reassuring to hear that her baby is still head down and her body is showing a few gentle signs that things are shifting. There’s a quiet excitement in Chloe—but again, that familiar anxiousness bubbles up too. She’s feeling the wait, and she’s honest about how her patience is wearing thin. She’s so ready to meet her baby.
We talk through the logistics that keep circling in her mind—her two other children, the early days at home, the juggle of it all. I remind her that when the time is right, her baby will come. That her body knows. And that she doesn’t need to carry everything on her own. We go over some ideas—ways to call in support and set her up gently for those first few weeks.
A little retail therapy helps take the edge off. It feels like a happy day. And even though there’s impatience and uncertainty, there’s also something lovely about watching Chloe preparing in her own way—thinking, feeling, mothering already.
and impatience, woven in gently:
31st March – Chloe has a stretch and sweep; she really feels mentally that she would benefit from her baby being born in the next week. This would also ease her worry about her older children, as Mason and Boston will be in the care of their dad. Chloe has also booked an induction.
"Waiting for a baby to be born asks more of a mother than just time—it asks for trust, for surrender, and for a deep patience that stretches across the unknown."
I am so happy that the universe—and Mother Nature—had been listening. Chloe’s wish to meet her baby is about to come true. The waiting hasn’t been easy, but she’s held on. And now, things are finally beginning to unfold.
1st April 39 weeks and 1 day
2:30 am Chloe is woken by sensations—just different enough to catch her attention.
"Today is the day she will meet her baby. Not in a dream, or in her imagining—but in her arms."
4:35 am
I’m on the phone with Sam and Chloe. As I mentioned earlier, Chloe has a history of very efficient labours, and this one is shaping up the same way. She’s having sensations every three minutes, each one lasting a full minute or more. She’s got her TENS machine on, as she breathes steadily through each wave.
We’re all on the same page now—time to get our birthing goddess to the hospital. This is your moment to shine, Chloe. The physiological labour and birth I was quietly hoping for (or maybe not so quietly!) is well and truly underway. I can’t stop smiling.
By 4:45 am
We’ve made the call — Sam, Chloe, and I will meet at the LGH carpark and go in together. I ring the maternity ward to let them know we’re on our way and request a room with a bath. They’re ready and waiting for us.
When I meet Sam and Chloe in the car park, I see the emotion written clearly on Sam’s face. I say softly, “I know — you’re about to meet the newest love of your life.” I give him a hug. Then I turn to my birthing goddess — Chloe — who is doing an incredible job listening to her body and breathing through every sensation. She gets a hug, too.
I feel so blessed to be invited to share this momentous day with them. Let’s go have a baby!
5:07 am Chloe covers her eyes against the bright hospital lights as we make our way inside to the labour ward.
By 5:14am, We’re settled into the labour ward, making ourselves at home. Fairy lights twinkle softly, the diffuser sends gentle scents through the room, and soft music hums quietly in the background. A battery candle glows nearby, An affirmation card saying “I let go of my fear and embrace this moment.”
Chloe has a quick ultrasound—baby is still thankfully head down and very low. She stands and sways, a smile playing on her lips as she says, “Sam doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.” Sam wipes his eyes and smiles back. I think he already knows his heart is about to grow even bigger when he meets his little girl.
Chloe’s sensations are strong now, demanding her full attention. Some gas helps ease the intensity, and both Sam and I are right there with her, offering all the emotional and physical support we can. Chloe has a wonderful team around her this morning—lovely midwives, and the calm, familiar presence of Sam and me. Together, we make a perfect circle to hold and support her on this special birth journey.
The birth cub is set up on the bed for Chloe to lean over, and Sam stays close, rubbing her lower back and ready to do whatever she needs.
When it’s time, we help Chloe into the bath. I am so proud of her—her body is on a mission, and she is rising to meet everything her labour is asking of her with strength and grace.
"In the raw, unrelenting hours of labour, a woman meets the edge of herself—then finds she is made of more than she ever knew. Power, courage, instinct—this is her labouring heart."
5:45 am Chloe is using her breath to calm her nervous system, finding control amid the growing intensity. Her body and baby are on a mission, and she is giving it her all, trying to keep up mentally with the waves that keep coming. I’m gently rubbing her head and offering sips of water. Sam is continuously applying steady pressure to her lower back. Together, we are holding a gentle space for Chloe, honouring every ounce of the beautiful, hard work she’s doing.
Bringing babies into the world is an incredible honour—each sensation a wild, powerful ride. Chloe moves freely in the warm water, and I hope the feeling of weightlessness brings her some relief. The gas is definitely coming in handy, too.
Sam, though this is their first baby, has held such a calm, reassuring presence throughout. He doesn’t seem overwhelmed at all—he is constant, never leaving Chloe’s side. His love for Chloe and their precious baby shines in every touch, every comforting word.
To be part of supporting Chloe on this special day fills my heart with so much love and pride for my birthing goddess.
Her sensations are coming every minute now, and in a soft voice she murmurs, “No, not again,” before riding the next wave as the contractions continue, strong and fast.
"Active labour asks everything of a woman—body, mind, and spirit. And in return, it reveals her as fierce, focused, and utterly formidable. There is nothing passive about this surrender."
6:11 am Chloe is gently rocking from side to side in the bath, but our midwife is having trouble finding the baby’s heartbeat. Then, in the next breath, Chloe shares quietly, “My water just broke.”
We had an agreement with the care team at LGH that Chloe wouldn’t birth in the bath—her last two babies were a tight fit, and our midwives are happy Chloe has agreed to birth on land. But now, her body is shifting, transitioning, and moving is becoming harder. As she starts to shake, we all move quickly to help her.
One midwife is quick to start letting the water out of the bath, just in case Chloe isn’t able to get out easily. With steady support, we manage to help her out of the bath, wrapping her in a towel as we hold her upright. Together, we make our way slowly to the bed.
Chloe looks at us and says simply, “My baby is coming.”
"When we truly listen and observe, we realise we need do nothing. A birthing woman will show us exactly where she is and what she needs. She holds within her the wisdom, the rhythm, and the deep instincts of birth."
6.15 am Chloe is standing and leaning over the end of the bed, her head in her hands, feeling teary, her legs are shaking, and her baby is coming. With the gas still firmly in her mouth, she follows her body’s lead, even though she is telling us she doesn’t want to do it; her body has other ideas as Chloe is bearing down spontaneously. Sam is cuddling Chloe, and we both love and hold her in these hardest of moments.
6:19 am It’s not long before Chloe’s baby’s head is crowning. “Oh shit,” she gasps, as the first little tuft of hair appears.
She feels every sensation as her baby moves steadily down. Her legs are still shaking, adrenaline coursing through her body. Her voice trembles with emotion as she tells us, “Her head is out.” It’s all happening so fast—too fast, almost.
When labours move this quickly, the flood of emotions can be overwhelming, intense, and all-consuming. Yet in that rawness lies the profound miracle of birth unfolding right before us.
“You stand at the threshold now—between the woman you’ve been and the mother you’re becoming. With every breath, you draw your baby closer. This is love in its rawest, strongest form.”
Chloe reaches down and feels her baby’s head.
“I can’t believe this,” she says, wide-eyed and maybe in disbelief.
We are all smiling onlookers to a moment so raw and sacred. It’s one of those times that stays with you forever.
6:20 am. I’m rubbing Chloe’s head as she draws on everything within her—her baby so close now. There’s a pause as her little shoulders take a moment to find their way through. Then, with two strong, instinctive pushes, a high, piercing cry from Chloe, and a breathless “Oh my God”—
Their baby is making her final turn as she makes her grand debut at exactly 6:21 am.
She is passed up through Chloe’s legs and into her waiting arms—her daughter, finally here.
“In the moment you meet your baby, time stands still. Soul recognises soul. It’s as if the universe pauses to witness the reunion of two beings who have always known each other.”
Love fills the room. Tears shine in Chloe’s eyes, in Sam’s, and in mine. There’s a glow that settles over everything—a kind of quiet magic. The air hums with joy, and the whole room smiles.
Chloe exclaims, “I can’t believe this.”
After so many months of waiting, of hoping and preparing, the moment they had longed for had finally arrived.
Welcome to the world, Gia Florence. You are absolutely beautiful.
In those first moments, Chloe and Sam were so happy just looking at their little girl, amazed by who she was right then—so new and utterly precious. Everything felt calm and full of love. I wish it had stayed that way.
Their tiny baby, with soft pink skin, wisps of blonde hair, and bright, searching eyes, gazes up at her mummy. She looks so perfect, yet she’s not quite making a strong effort to cry. The midwives, quietly a little concerned about her breathing, encouraged Sam to cut the cord at 6:25 am, as the midwives wanted to call on the paediatric doctors to come in and check her over.
It became clear that Gia needed a little more support with her breathing. She was given some oxygen but wasn’t responding as well as everyone had hoped. Just after 7:30am, Chloe had to heartbreakingly say goodbye to her baby as Sam went with Gia, and I stayed with Chloe while Gia was transferred to the NICU, where she spent the next six days receiving care on a CPAP machine.
It was a deeply difficult moment for both Chloe and Sam—saying goodbye to their newborn so soon after meeting her and facing the uncertainty ahead.
And then, as if to test their strength even more, Gia developed an infection while in the hospital. She needed a lumbar puncture and a course of antibiotics—brave little fighter that she is.
What had been a straightforward, smooth birth— and with no complications delivering the placenta—was suddenly followed by tears, worry, and the helplessness that comes with watching your newborn struggle.
But brave little Gia slowly grew stronger, and thankfully, she made a full recovery. She was finally able to go home, surrounded by the love of her beautiful family, soaking up all the extra cuddles from her mummy, daddy, big brother Mason, and big sister Boston.
Bringing babies into the world is deeply special and profoundly important. When unexpected complications arise, it can feel overwhelming and heartbreaking. We need to make space for all of our feelings—to sit with the sadness, to acknowledge the fear, and to give ourselves the grace to grieve. But just as important, we must also hold onto everything that went right—the strength, the love, the little victories. We can’t let the clouds overshadow the rainbow. Because even through the storm, there is joy, there is love, and in the end, love always conquers all.
Chloe and Sam — thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for inviting me into such a sacred chapter of your lives. Through the laughter, the tears, the quiet moments and the fierce ones, it was a true privilege to walk beside you. Witnessing the birth of your precious Gia was something I’ll always hold close.
Gia made her debut wrapped in love, strength, and the deepest devotion — a reflection of the two of you. I can already see what a beautiful life she will have with you as her parents.
And as for me? You’ve well and truly got me now. I’ll always be cheering you on, part of your village, part of your story — and forever in your corner.
All my love,
Nanny Krista xx