I Had a Homebirth in Mexico — Here Is What Nobody Tells You

When I tell people I had a homebirth in Mexico, the reactions are usually the same. Eyes wide. A sharp intake of breath. "Weren't you scared?"

The honest answer is: a little. But not in the way people expect.

I wasn't scared of the birth itself. I was scared of all the things that could go wrong — the what ifs that live in the back of every expectant mother's mind, no matter how prepared she is or how aligned she feels. Those fears don't disappear just because you've chosen a beautiful, natural path. They simply ask to be held alongside your trust.

And ultimately, trust won.

How I Ended Up Birthing in Puerto Escondido

I was living in Puerto Escondido, Oaxaca — a wild, surf-soaked town on Mexico's Pacific coast — when I found out I was pregnant. We had arrived there after leaving Costa Rica during the pandemic, following the kind of unexpected life detour that only makes sense in hindsight.

My original plan was a birthing centre. A beautiful, calm space that felt like the next best thing to home. Most of me wanted a homebirth — but my partner was nervous, and I understood that. We compromised. The birthing centre felt like the right middle ground.

And then, as pregnancy has a way of doing, everything changed.

The closer I got to my due date, the more clearly my intuition spoke. I made peace with all three outcomes — home, birthing centre, hospital — so that I wouldn't be thrown off course during labour. But deep in my body, I knew. I was going to birth at home.

The Expat Community Made It Possible

One of the things that surprises people most is how common homebirthing is among the expat community of this small town in Mexico. Women support women. Knowledge travels through WhatsApp groups, late night conversations, personal experience and the kind of honest sisterhood that forms when you're far from home and navigating something enormous together.

My midwife and doula came recommended through exactly this network. I made friends to a beautiful human who 3 months further along in her pregnancy. She loved her birth team and recommended them, so I trusted her and toook the same path. They were experienced, calm and completely aligned with my vision of having a more holistic experience. Finding the right team is everything — and in a place like Puerto Escondido, if you ask the right women, you will find them.

The Day He Arrived

On the morning of November 7th — 39 weeks exactly, a full moon, a full lunar eclipse — our neighbour sent a message. There was a tarantula outside our front door. On the third floor. Where tarantulas have no business being.

I had encountered these creatures before during my pregnancy. I had looked up their medicine: you create your own reality.

I turned to my partner. "This baby is coming today."

That night, at around 7:30pm, my waters broke.

What followed was fifteen hours of one of the most intense, sacred and transformative experiences of my life. Calm music. A warm water bath. The full moon eclipse unfolding outside while I laboured in the dark. My midwife, my doula and my partner holding the space with quiet, steady presence.

He arrived at 10:09am. And the moment I looked into his eyes — this tiny, perfect person who had chosen me — everything I had been through to get there made complete sense.

What Nobody Tells You

Birth is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of a whole new one — and the days that follow can be just as challenging as the birth itself.

Elias didn't latch. He developed jaundice. On day four we found ourselves in a Mexican hospital, my heart breaking as nurses searched for his tiny veins. It was not the gentle, golden postpartum I had envisioned.

But we got through it. With the support of my incredible midwife and doula — who never left our side — breastfeeding was eventually established. Elias came home. And slowly, tenderly, we began to find our rhythm.

I tell you this not to frighten you, but because the full picture matters. Birth abroad can be beautiful. It can also be unpredictable. Being prepared for all outcomes — not just the ideal one — is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself.

If You Are Considering a Homebirth Abroad

Here is what I would say, from one woman to another:

Talk to women who have done it — find your local expat community, ask in WhatsApp groups, seek recommendations from women you trust. Their knowledge is invaluable.

Get recommendations on your birth team — your midwife and doula are everything. Take time to find the right people.

Know all your options — make peace with every possible outcome before labour begins. A woman who has prepared for all scenarios cannot be thrown off course when the moment arrives.

Understand the costs — most travel insurance won't cover you if you're already pregnant. Know what hospitals, interventions and NICU care would cost if needed. Prepare for all possibilities even if you hope to need none of them.

Find your community — expat mamas are in the same boat. They are generous, honest and often the most helpful resource you will find.

The Bigger Story

My homebirth was not just a birth. It was the culmination of two years of healing work — physical, emotional, subconscious and spiritual — that I had poured into becoming ready to receive my son.

That journey, and everything it taught me about the female body and the deeper dimensions of fertility, became the foundation of my book Fertility Isn't Linear. The birth story is there. So is everything that came before it — the healing, the fear, the surrender, the trust.

If you feel called to read it, the link is in my bio.

Because some stories need to be lived before they can be written. And some books arrive exactly when they are meant to.

Read the full journey in Fertility Isn't Linear — available now in paperback and ebook.

And if you are on your own fertility journey, download your free holistic fertility guide here.

With love,

Emma X