Where Strength Meets Surrender: Mystique’s Story
Every single birth, no matter how it unfolds, teaches us something new.
As we comb through our archive for the upcoming First Hello book, stories like this one stop us in our tracks. It’s raw. It’s real. And it’s full of the kind of beauty that’s often unseen.
This is Mystique’s story — told in her words — plus a few of our own.
“On the morning of February 2, 2018, I gave birth to a healthy and thriving baby girl who made the previous 27 hours fade away. All I saw from that point onwards was her every move, sound and breath.”
This is how it often goes — the moment the baby arrives, everything before it goes soft around the edges. But those hours leading up to it still matter. They’re etched into the body, the heart, the memory. They tell the story of what it took to get there.
“When people ask me about my birth, I will be one of the few who will tell you ‘I LOVED labour.’ And in all truthfulness, I did love my labour. I was in what I described as my zone; I was calm, I felt strong, and I worked hard for hours to get to that magic number of 10cm dilated.”
This part hit us deep. So often, labour is cast only in pain. But here is a reminder that birth is also power. A primal, focused, consuming strength that women carry — and yes, some even love.
“No one believed I was 10cm because I didn’t fit the mould of a woman who is in active labour. Spoiler alert: there is no mould, every woman is so different in labour — trust your body!”
Say it louder. There is no mould. This truth is part of why we made The First Hello — to challenge assumptions, to document real women doing birth their way.
“After only a few pushes, in walked the obstetrician who said the words I feared: ‘Your baby is very distressed, and we recommend an emergency caesarean section.”
This is the moment the story turned. It’s the part that often gets brushed past. But we’ve seen these pivots up close — when strength meets grief, when expectations shift, when birth demands trust in an entirely new way.
“I had an emotional reaction for the first time in those long hours, I started to sob, I felt defeated, I felt scared, I didn’t want to be cut open…”
We document it all. Because all of it is important. The grief, the fear, the feeling of loss — even when a baby is healthy and safe. These emotions don’t negate the joy. They belong. They’re part of what makes birth such a layered, human, holy thing.
“That emotional release… reminded me that my baby had also worked hard… and this was the safest way, even if it wasn’t the way I had planned.”
We are always moved by the moment a mother reclaims her story — even as it changes shape. That shift from “this isn’t what I wanted” to “this is what we needed” is quiet, but brave.
“I still hold strong to the words I LOVED my labour… the labour hours before then are still one of the greatest and hardest things my body has ever done and I will treasure my birth story forever.”
This is why we believe in the power of story. Birth doesn’t have to be perfect to be treasured. It just has to be yours.
As we celebrate 10 years of The First Hello, stories like this are what anchor us. They remind us why we’re making this book — to give space to the untold, the unfiltered and the unforgettable.
Here’s to every mother who’s ever done something she didn’t know she could.
Here’s to the ones still carrying their story tenderly.
And to Mystique who shared this story with us — thank you.
Thank you for your courage, your honesty and for letting us capture and share your story. It’s a gift we don’t take lightly.
We see you. And we’re so honoured to tell your story.
