"Midwife Violet Program and compliments for the team that saved my life and baby's life"

Late last year, I gave birth to my child, my first child, and a moment that should have been defined by strength, care, and support. While I will always be grateful to the incredible medical team who ultimately brought my baby safely into the world, my experience within the midwife program left me feeling unsupported, uninformed, and deeply shaken during one of the most vulnerable times of my life.

From the outset, the program promised continuous care, open communication, and an emphasis on empowering mothers with informed choice. What I experienced was the opposite.

Crucial information about my health and my baby’s wellbeing was either seemingly missing or downplayed. I was advised to decline the strep B test without a proper explanation of its risks. When my waters broke with visible bleeding I was told to stay home by my midwife and to text them proof that I was bleeding, reassured that “it wasn’t that bad.” Even when we went to the hospital the following day, we were sent home again, without being adequately informed of the potential consequences of waiting or the risks associated with oxytocin induction.

After 40 hours of labor, dehydration, and being induced, I was only 5 cm dilated. A midwife-in-training, who had been with us throughout, was by my side and a midwife I’d never met. Contraction after contraction, I took a shower and went to the toilet where I discovered I had meconium. This did not feel normal for me, I’d never birthed before but I knew something was wrong. The student midwife casually mentioned the presence of meconium, I recall calling it “normal,” but failed to provide any context or concern. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I asked for an epidural, and only to be questioned if I was sure I wanted to do it as I’ve come this far. I pushed to get the epidural then after it kicked in our monitors went down and the doctors stepped in and quickly determine that my baby was in distress with a low heart rate and an emergency C-section was urgently needed within the next 15 minutes.

It was in that moment that I discovered our midwife had been watching the labor remotely from their home. The weight of that realisation was crushing. We had placed so much trust in the midwife program, believing we’d receive consistent, attentive care. Instead, I felt dismissed and left to navigate labor largely on my own.

Once doctors took over, everything changed. I finally felt safe. Their calm expertise and swift action not only brought our baby into the world but reminded me what truly patient-centred care looks like.

But my journey didn’t end in the delivery room. Following the birth, I suffered from severe dehydration, a high fever, and eventually septic shock. The high-care team worked around the clock to stabilise me. Their tireless monitoring, insistence on IV treatment, and genuine compassion quite literally saved my life. I will forever be grateful to them.

In contrast, the midwife program I entered with hope and trust felt narrowly focused on achieving a vaginal birth and I believe it was at the expense of maternal wellbeing. The emotional and physical toll was profound. My "low-risk" pregnancy turned into an emergency, not because my body failed me, but because I wasn’t fully informed or supported to make decisions as things changed. It’s also worth noting that birthing is more than vaginal there are other avenues to deliver a baby healthy into this world.

The experience has left me with lasting questions:

- Why weren’t the risks of each pathway clearly explained?

- Why did I feel like I had to lead my own care, asking questions and pushing for answers, in the absence of guidance?

- Why did I have to advocate to keep my baby close to me when I was in high care?

Since returning home, I’ve reflected deeply on my experience. I’ve had a debrief with the midwifery team, but the conversation left me feeling dismissed. I felt there was little willingness to accept feedback or acknowledge how the program may have failed to meet its own standards. I later emailed my complaint and it took three months after weekly follow-up, and that delay adds to the feeling of being unheard.

This experience has left me with questions about the safety and oversight within these programs and how many other women may be suffering in silence or without answers.

We worry about women with postpartum and this experience can trigger when you are up at all hours in the newborn phase replaying your birth experience.

I am sharing this story not to place blame, but to advocate for awareness, for accountability from the hospital , and for better care. Expecting mothers should never feel dismissed, or have to fight for information, especially when the stakes are so high. I believe midwife-led care should empower, not endanger. I think it should be holistic, not rigid in its pursuit of an idealised birth outcome. Midwives and doctors need to work together not only in cases of emergency.

My hope is that this story reaches those who can make change. That the program can and should be reviewed with a focus on true informed consent, transparency, and collaboration. That patient advocacy becomes the norm not the exception especially with a healthcare system like ours in Australia.

Mothers deserve to be seen, heard, and respected in every step of their birth journey.