A Frank Breech Homebirth Story: How Kaitlyn Stayed Calm Whe*/n Her Baby Came Bottom-First

Some birth stories hand you a formula. Kaitlyn Vogelmeier's hands you something better: proof that the calm you'll need on your birth day is something you can build long before you need it.

In this episode of the Happy Homebirth Podcast, Kaitlyn– a wife, an occupational therapist, and a mother of two in Michigan– walks us through two births that share almost nothing on paper. One left her healing from things she never chose. The other became one of the most redemptive days of her life, and it happened to include her baby arriving bottom-first, at home.

A first birth that got away from her

Kaitlyn started her first pregnancy in a place a lot of us start: as long as we both come out okay, she figured, she'd take whatever birth came– epidural, cesarean, whatever. But somewhere in her first trimester she stumbled onto birth podcasts, and it cracked something open. She learned about interventions and their risks, and she changed her mind. No epidural. No induction if she could help it.

She was already, by way of an insurance change, with hospital-based midwives. They were kind, and they seemed on board– until the end. Past her due date, the pressure crept in: scheduled-induction conversations, then, at her 41-week appointment, a cervical check and a membrane sweep she agreed to while feeling cornered. It's the piece she calls her biggest regret. Her water broke after the sweep, but labor never started on its own. After fourteen hours she and her husband went in, and the Pitocin began.

The labor that followed was intense– contractions stacked with no breaks– but she held onto the part of her plan that mattered most and stayed unmedicated, with her husband and her doula beside her. She pushed for three hours. And then the hardest part came after the birth: she hemorrhaged, her placenta wouldn't release, and because of the bleeding, they couldn't give it more time. She had a manual placenta extraction with no medication– more painful, she says, than the entire birth.

The years between, and a different plan

Once she'd healed, a lot of it simply didn't sit right. So she did what she does: she got back into the birth stories, and this time she got even more educated. Before she and Nick were even trying for a second, she'd decided on a homebirth and started gathering names, asking her first doula and her prenatal yoga instructor for midwife recommendations.

They interviewed three homebirth midwives and chose Heather of Blue Water Midwifery– the one whose answers were confident and matter-of-fact (which helped Nick, still on the fence), and who clearly gave mothers real autonomy. Notably, Kaitlyn asked her about breech back at that interview. She wanted to know.

Her second pregnancy was smooth. She leaned into nutrition– high protein, whole-fat dairy– and saw a chiropractor weekly from around twenty weeks. Her toddler came to appointments and started "playing midwife" at home, dopplering Kaitlyn's belly with a play spoon: baby heart, boom boom. And this time, she didn't tell a soul her due date. Just "sometime in August." After a first pregnancy of endless when's-the-baby-coming questions, that boundary was its own kind of preparation.

"That's not a head"

On August 5th– her actual due date, after a whole pregnancy of telling people babies don't come on their due dates– her water broke while she was standing in her bathroom in her scrubs, about to leave for work. This time, contractions started on their own about twenty minutes later. A quiet, enormous relief.

She labored at home through the morning, swaying and leaning, her husband and her longtime doula giving counterpressure. When Heather arrived and checked her, she was six centimeters– and she was feeling around a lot. What she felt wasn't a head. It might be breech; it might be a facial presentation. After a round of position changes, she checked again: definitely a bottom, with meconium. Frank breech, confirmed.

Heather asked Kaitlyn what she wanted to do. She didn't hesitate. "Now I'm staying home. We're doing this here." Her husband, who didn't even really know what breech meant, asked if they could do that at home– and Kaitlyn, drawing on two years of birth education, told him it was a variation of normal and they were good. He'd tell her afterward: "I wasn't scared, you seemed very confident."

A calm that was built, not summoned

What's striking, listening to Kaitlyn, is that she never once felt afraid– and it surprised even her. She traces it straight back to two years of weekly birth stories, and to a midwife she'd deliberately chosen for her breech experience. The pool came down (Heather wanted her upright, with gravity helping and room to assist), and Kaitlyn labored the way her body asked– standing, squatting, kneeling.

She pushed for about thirty-five minutes. Her son came bottom-first to his chest; then, with Kaitlyn's permission each step, Heather helped his arms and gently tucked his chin to bring his head. He arrived a little stunned– Heather gave him two breaths and some stimulation– and within moments he let out a big, loud cry. All good. They discovered he was a boy the way Kaitlyn had with both babies: by reaching down herself. They named him after her late father, who was also born in August.

And the fear she'd carried in quietly– what if I hemorrhage again and have to transfer for my placenta?– dissolved too. Still kneeling with her baby on her chest, she felt her placenta coming, shifted a little higher, and it simply released, within a couple of minutes and with a normal amount of blood. "This is amazing," she remembers thinking. "Like I don't have anything to worry about."

Both births, honored

Kaitlyn's postpartum this time has been tender and easy in a way her first wasn't– she's candid that she had some depression and anxiety after her daughter that she didn't address then, and that this season has felt completely different, with her daughter delighting in her baby brother. She's careful, too, not to make it all about the research: "you need to also feel confident in yourself and just like trust it." And she's clear-eyed about what made the difference. In her old hospital, she says, this would have been a cesarean, full stop. "It just is a… really like a testament of finding the right provider."

If you're preparing for your own birth and there's a fear you can't quite put down– breech, or a hard first birth, or the not-knowing– let Kaitlyn's story loosen your grip a little. Her body didn't owe her a pattern. Her calm wasn't luck. It was built, one story at a time, long before the day she needed it.

Listen to her Episode: APPLE PODCAST · SPOTIFY LINK · YOUTUBE LINK

FAQ

Can you have a breech baby at home?

Some skilled midwives are trained to support breech birth at home, and it does happen– Kaitlyn birthed a Frank breech baby at home with a midwife who was experienced and confident with it. That said, breech carries additional considerations, and outcomes lean heavily on having a provider who is specifically trained in it. It's a decision that belongs in honest conversation with your own care provider, not a default.

What is a Frank breech?

Frank breech means the baby is positioned bottom-down with the legs extended straight up toward the head. It's one of several breech presentations, and it's the position Kaitlyn's son was in– his bottom was born first, followed by his legs, chest, arms, and head.

Is breech really "a variation of normal"?

Breech is a normal variation of how a baby can be positioned– it isn't a defect or an emergency by itself. Kaitlyn leaned on that framing to stay calm. It's also true that breech birth can carry additional risk compared with a head-down birth, which is exactly why a trained, experienced provider matters so much. Both things are true at once.

How do you find a midwife experienced in breech birth?

Interview more than one, and ask directly. Kaitlyn interviewed three homebirth midwives and specifically asked about breech at the interview stage, long before she knew she'd need it. Ask about training, experience, and approach, and pay attention to how confident and clear the answers feel.

Can you have a peaceful homebirth after a difficult hospital birth?

Yes– many mothers do, and Kaitlyn is one of them. A hard first birth is often where a woman learns what she truly wants and what she'd change, and that clarity becomes the foundation for a very different second experience. The goal isn't to erase the first birth, but to walk into the next one more prepared and more fully at the helm.

This article shares one mother's personal experience and is offered as encouragement and education, not medical advice. Anything about your own body or your baby belongs in conversation with a trusted care provider.