Nurturing has always come naturally to me, long before I became a doula, long before I had children of my own. It's just who I am.

I believe birth is one of the most profound experiences a person can move through, not just physically, but emotionally. The fears you carry in, the hopes you hold, the way you feel seen or unseen in the room, all of it shapes the experience. I came to this work because I lived that truth myself.

In 2017, I gave birth to my first son. What began as a medical induction ended in an emergency caesarean, and I came out the other side shaken, in pain, flooded with adrenaline, and grieving the birth I had hoped for.
I had believed in my body. But belief alone, I learned, isn't enough. The emotional stress, the busyness of modern life, and the reality of a stretched public system all played a role. I felt disempowered, and that feeling stayed with me.

Recovery sent me deeper. I became quietly obsessed with understanding the emotional and physical landscape of birth, what shapes it, what shifts it, what makes the difference between an experience that breaks you and one that builds you.

When I gave birth to my second son, everything was different. A VBAC (a vaginal birth after caesarean), under a continuity of care model. Even within a public hospital, it was nurturing and aligned. My body knew what to do, and this time I had the support to let it. The contrast between my two births lit something in me that hasn't gone out since.

That's what brought me into this work. I support women in finding their strength, their voice, and their own path through pregnancy, birth, and the weeks after. I hold space for the emotional terrain just as much as the physical preparation, because both matter, and neither can be separated from the other.