And then love arrived: the story of a blended motherhood
A few years ago, Phoebe opened the door to her story for the first time. At the time, she was a single mother and a doula—moving forward with strength and tenderness through a life she was shaping day by day.
Since then, the thread of her journey has transformed: love arrived, along with a new chapter of motherhood, a blended family, and an even more powerful voice.
Today, Phoebe shares another intimate glimpse into her life. She reflects on the choices she’s made as a woman, the upheavals she’s navigated, the solitude that shaped her, and the joy of witnessing multiple births—of a new child, new convictions, and a new life.
Reborn as a woman, a mother, and a wife.
Phoebe, since our last conversation, your life has undergone significant changes. How do you feel today as a woman, mother, and wife?
Our last interview was when talm first launched, many years ago. Since then, my entire world has shifted on its axis—a full 360, without exaggeration. Back then, I was deep in single motherhood with my two small children, working as a doula and navigating life on my own. I look back on that time fondly—just me and my kids in our beautiful bubble of safety. I was discovering my strength and resilience every single day. So many people recognized that, including the founder of talm, who asked to feature me in the brand’s very first interview.
Today, I feel like tenfold the woman I was then—maybe even more. I continued as a single mother for several years, until everything shifted again when I met my now-husband. At the time, I was happy alone, truly independent, with no need for a partner. I had healed, as much as you can on your own. So when I met him, I was ready.
Today, I look at my life in awe—at how far I’ve come, how far my children have come. Every time they call him “Daddy,” my heart skips a beat. I’ll never forget where we came from. I don’t want to. It’s part of me—of us. The day I became a single mother felt like a rebirth. I faced every moment alone—through pain, struggle, and joy. And now, I feel safe. Held. Softened. I'm with a man who takes care of us all, and I’ve allowed that in because I believe we deserve it.
I am the strongest, wisest, and most authentic version of myself I’ve ever been. Every step I’ve taken has brought me here, and I feel proud. The world around me reflects that—I see it and feel it every day.
Your meeting with Paul seems to have been a real turning point in your life. How has this new love story enriched your role as a mother and your vision of family?
At first, I never believed I would find this kind of love in my life. I had no example of it. To me, it was a myth—something unattainable. My experiences with men and love had only confirmed that. I had made peace with it. I was happy to be a mother alone, and I believed that single mothers often give more than any two-parent family can. We strive so far to meet our children's needs alone—and that’s a role I took very seriously.
But being with Paul changed my mindset over time. He is more patient, gentle, and kind than I ever thought possible. To be met and loved exactly as you are—and for your children to be loved the same way—is indescribable.
It still feels surreal, and yet I experience it every single day. He met me and my kids and loved us from the very first moment.
I never imagined having more children. But with Paul, everything changed. Our love felt so full, so creative. He deserved that experience—after loving my children as his own. In essence, Paul changed my entire vision of family. Today, ours is filled with so much love it sometimes feels like a dream.
How did your children experience this change with Paul’s arrival and the birth of Rainbow?
By the time Paul entered our lives, we were ready. Nothing about it felt premature. People often say the right person can come at the wrong time—but I don’t believe that. People come into your life exactly when they’re meant to.
It took two years—one day at a time—to learn how to be a family. I had to unlearn being a single parent, put aside my hyper-independence, and trust him with parts of our daily lives. That was hard. It required surrender. And trust—especially when it comes to your children—is something you don’t give unless you know it’s right.
Finley and Sandy took to Paul easily. That was the true test for me—not what I felt, but what they felt. I had never seen a man love them so easily, so fully, and by choice.
As for Rainbow, the timing was perfect—just as life always arranges things. The kids adjusted beautifully. They had each other, and Paul and I worked hard to make sure everyone in our family felt seen and supported. Dropping any balls was not an option, especially with the older kids. I stayed committed even while tired and heavily pregnant. That didn’t change after Rainbow was born.
What mattered most was that they were included every step of the way—in the pregnancy, in the birth. Watching their sister be born in our living room created a deep, lasting bond. They were never left out. They were part of it all. And it shows in their love for her.
Looking back on your journey as a single mother, what have you discovered about yourself?
To leave this part out would be to erase something sacred. My journey as a single mother is my foundation. It’s where I found myself.
Your story is a beautiful testament to resilience. How did you find the strength to believe in the future?
I believed in the future because I gave myself and my children a second chance at life. Taking control of our destiny meant everything to me after losing the one I had. It became my fuel—every single day. They were my strength.
And still, many days I felt weak. I had to dig deep just to keep going, because there was no other choice. My love for my children was my strength. I can’t imagine bringing children into the world and not feeling that way.
A different kind of birth: Rainbow’s arrival
Could you share what led you to choose a free birth?
Freebirthing Rainbow was always the only option for me—I just knew I could do it. After Finley and Sandy, I didn’t think I’d ever have more children, so to be given that chance again meant everything.
I took it seriously—and yet, lightly. Working as a birth worker, I’d seen birth from all sides. By the time I was pregnant with Rainbow, I was emotionally and mentally exhausted from supporting hospital births—industrialized birth. I had witnessed so many women too afraid to step into their power. Eventually, I stopped supporting births unless I felt fully aligned with the mother’s vision.
Freebirthing Rainbow changed everything for me. I now believe that no one should be in the birth space except for children, trusted women, and aligned partners. I no longer believe midwives or doulas—anyone paid to be there—belong in that space. I know this may upset many, but I speak from personal truth.
This radical experience brought radical clarity. I no longer practice as a doula professionally, even though I’ll always be one. I can’t support a system that capitalizes on women’s fear and disconnection from their power.
I will always support women—freely, with love—but never as a business again. Rainbow’s birth turned my world upside down in the most beautiful, transformative way. And I trust that.
What was your primary emotion when welcoming Rainbow into your living room, in such an intimate and natural setting?
A wild, powerful sense of self-trust. I had reclaimed something sacred—something that has been taken from women for generations. Telling fear to f*** off in the very moment where life and death coexist—that’s the most badass thing I’ve ever done.
How motherhood changed the way I see other women
As a doula, how has your own motherhood experience shaped the way you support other women?
My resilience and inner knowing have always drawn people to me. I’ve supported many women who didn’t yet feel that strength in themselves. That’s what we need in birth—in motherhood. To feel brave. Bold. Capable.
Being that presence allowed women to feel it, too. But at the end of the day, a doula is not responsible for your outcome. No one is—except you.
What advice would you give to women starting their motherhood journey, especially those who feel lost or alone?
You are alone. We all are. No one is coming to save you. You are all you have—and everything you need is already within you.
Once you realize that, you become unstoppable. Nothing can break you. You are in charge of your birth, your life, your choices. That’s where true power lies. Too many women sign away their rights in birth and pregnancy, unconsciously saying, “I’m not strong enough.” That’s the heartbreaking part of working in birth. It’s why I can’t do it anymore.
Birth is political. How we birth reflects the state of the world.
Finding balance
Balancing your roles as a woman, mother, and wife isn’t easy. How do you manage it while staying true to yourself?
Being true to myself comes naturally—it’s the keeping up with everyone’s needs that’s the challenge. Honestly, it’s almost impossible. It takes serious intention and care. Mostly, it’s chaos. Not harmful chaos—just full. And like most mothers, I come last. Our role is to care. The more children you have, the better you get at it. Three kids is hectic, but you adapt.
I’m always on time, don’t forget important things, and make time for friends, family, and my husband. They say the busiest people are the ones who always show up—and I believe it. So embrace the busyness. It means you’re alive.
With everything you’ve been through, what makes you proudest today?
Who I am—and the life I fought to create. My values, my convictions, my beliefs—they’re what built this world around me. Even when the world tests your authenticity, if you stay true, the rewards are profound. I see that now, in the hard choices I made. And I’m proud of every single one.
