Why don’t people talk about the pain?

This Journal entry is available in two ways: you can read it below, or press play to hear me sharing it in my own voice.

When I was pregnant, the word that haunted me was pain.

Everyone seemed to have a story:
“It’s the worst pain you’ll ever go through.”
“Don’t worry, once your baby’s here, you’ll forget.”

People meant well, but those words didn’t comfort me. After miscarriages, I couldn’t cling to the idea of forgetting, because I couldn’t picture holding my baby at all. All I could picture was the pain waiting for me.

And I’m not a go-with-the-flow kind of person. I like plans, options, feeling ready. But when it came to birth, the message I kept hearing was: there is no plan. Pain is inevitable. Just get through it.

When I found hypnobirthing, I thought I’d cracked the code. I learnt so much about the mind–body connection, about fear and relaxation. But one thing was missing. Nobody really talked about pain. Instead, contractions became “waves” and “surges” – soft words for a raw reality.

So when my first induction began, and the contractions hit, they didn’t feel like waves. They felt painful. And because no one had prepared me for that, panic set in. I remember gripping the hospital bed, tears running down my face, thinking: I can’t do this.

By the time I gave birth to my second daughter, everything had shifted. At home, surrounded by safety and support, the pain was still there but it didn’t consume me. I felt powerful, not powerless.

With my third birth, back at Diana Princess of Wales Hospital, the setting was different again. It wasn’t the home environment I’d loved, but it still felt magical. By then, I’d learned the truth: pain doesn’t always mean suffering. Pain doesn’t always mean panic. And the way I experienced it was completely different once I had the tools, the mindset, and the support to feel powerful rather than powerless.

What helped me most:

• Breathing as an anchor — I started with counting, but once the contractions became stronger, I found myself just homing in on the feel of the breath instead. That rhythm became my anchor when everything else felt overwhelming.
• Shifting my focus — instead of zooming in on the pain, I repeated to myself: “That’s another one done. One step closer to the end.” It turned every contraction into progress, not punishment.
• Support that held space — having people around me who didn’t just watch, but actively believed in me. My birth partners repeated key phrases we’d prepared, and those words kept me grounded.
• Understanding and education — knowing why each stage of labour was happening gave the pain a purpose. Once I could connect the sensation to what my body was doing, everything shifted. This was a game changer for me.

That’s why I created Let’s Talk About Pain.

Because brushing over it doesn’t help.
Because silence breeds fear.
Because the most powerful births don’t come from pretending pain doesn’t exist — they come from facing it honestly, with tools that make you feel capable.

Pain isn’t a taboo.
And I refuse to whisper about it anymore.

Come and join me at my free Let’s Talk About Pain workshop — a safe space to explore what pain is (and what it isn’t), how to manage it without panic, and how the Mama Spring Method can shift your whole experience of birth.