29/05/2026
Flying into Melbourne this morning, I found myself sitting near a young couple navigating one of those very human, very tender moments.
She was pregnant with her first baby and experiencing intense morning sickness phase — the kind that doesn’t politely pause just because you’re on a flight.
Her partner mentioned she had been vomiting almost constantly.
Having had my own pregnancies — and knowing how much my own body has changed after children and has interrupted my bodily equilibrium, even on flights, since then — I found myself gently offering a few breathwork techniques and small body-based suggestions to help her settle her system.
And for the first half of the flight, she didn’t vomit.
It was such a small moment, but also not small at all.
A reminder that sometimes the work we do doesn’t stay neatly inside clinics, boardrooms, workshops, professional conversations or carefully planned meetings.
Sometimes it shows up in the seat beside us.
This Melbourne trip has in store a full calendar of those threads for me — meeting with women’s advocates, connecting with colleagues, and participating in important workshop spaces that I’m not quite ready to speak about in detail yet.
But I can say this:
I’m increasingly interested in the places where lived experience, professional wisdom, advocacy, body-based practice, and deep care meet.
The spaces where women are believed.
The spaces where bodies are listened to.
The spaces where support is practical, human, and immediate.
And sometimes, that begins with something as simple as helping a pregnant woman breathe through the next few minutes.
There are many conversations unfolding right now.
Some public.
Some private.
Some still forming.
But I’m grateful to be in the room — and sometimes, on the plane — where care, courage and advocacy are quietly happening.
Renée McDonald
www.reneemcdonald.com