Her Herd

When we talk about family, we often think about the people we are born into.This episode reminds us that family can also be built through friendship, generosity, courage, and community.This week on the Her Herd Podcast, I sit down with Ben Brooksby, whom many of you may know as The Naked Farmer, and his husband, Mason, to talk about their journey to becoming dads. From growing up in rural communities to building a life together on the farm, Ben and Mason share the story of how a dream they once thought might never be possible became a reality through surrogacy.What struck me most about this conversation wasn't just the complexity of the process. It was the incredible village that surrounded them along the way. A sister who offered to donate eggs. A surrogate who stepped forward to help them build their family. Family, friends, and a rural community who celebrated every step of the journey alongside them. Together, we talk about navigating surrogacy in Australia, the emotional and financial realities involved, the challenges of waiting, the heartbreak of miscarriage, and the moment they finally met their daughter, Cleo.We also talk about something that doesn't get spoken about enough: what it means to be a gay couple raising a family in rural Australia.For Ben and Mason, the overwhelming response from the agricultural community has been one of support, kindness, and acceptance. Their story challenges assumptions about rural communities and reminds us that belonging often exists in places we least expect.At its heart, this episode is about hope.It's about the power of sharing your dreams out loud. It's about the people who step forward when they hear those dreams. And it's about creating the family you once thought might be out of reach. We are incredibly grateful to Ben and Mason for sharing their story with such honesty, warmth, and generosity.And to little Cleo, who is already proving that some of the best stories begin with a community that believes in you before you've even arrived.

Some journeys to parenthood are straightforward. Others ask more of us than we ever imagined.When Kirra first started trying to grow her family, she never expected it would lead her through years of fertility treatment, multiple surgeries, pregnancy complications, birth trauma, miscarriage, and countless hours navigating a healthcare system that often felt overwhelming and difficult to understand.Living in rural Australia added another layer to an already complex journey. Accessing specialists meant travel, time away from home, financial sacrifice, and learning to navigate a system that was not always designed with rural families in mind.In this deeply honest conversation, Kirra shares her experience of being diagnosed with endometriosis, undertaking IVF treatment, and eventually welcoming her son, Raymond, into the world. She speaks openly about the joy of becoming a mother, but also about the challenges that followed, including a traumatic birth, ongoing pelvic floor complications, and the physical and emotional toll that fertility treatment can take on a woman and her family.Kirra also shares the heartbreak of subsequent failed transfers and pregnancy loss, reflecting on the grief that can accompany the loss of a future you had already started imagining.What stood out most during this conversation was not simply what Kirra experienced, but who she became through it.Over time, she learnt to ask questions. She learnt to keep records. She learnt to trust her instincts. She learnt how to advocate for herself when something did not feel right. Like so many women, particularly those living in rural and regional communities, she discovered that sometimes the loudest voice in the room needs to be your own.This episode is a powerful reminder that fertility journeys are rarely just medical stories. They are stories about relationships, identity, resilience, grief, hope, and the extraordinary strength it takes to keep moving forward when the path ahead is uncertain.We are incredibly grateful to Kirra for sharing her story with such honesty and vulnerability.To anyone currently navigating infertility, IVF, pregnancy loss, birth trauma, or the complexities of rural healthcare, we hope this conversation reminds you that you are not alone.Thank you, Kirra, for trusting Her Herd with your story.Because stories matter. They help us feel seen, they help us understand one another, and sometimes they help us find the courage to keep going.

In this second part of Jen's raw and honest re-introduction, the conversation dives deeper into the "authentic mess" of rural motherhood, personal health battles, and the relentless fight for better healthcare for country families. Jen opens the episode with a heartfelt tribute to her grandmother, Gwen, whose legacy of empathy and unwavering support serves as the foundational spirit for Her Herd.The episode recounts the harrowing "s***show" of Jen’s pregnancy with Charlie, including a disastrous MRI experience where she battled claustrophobia and physical illness while trying to diagnose chronic bladder stones. This personal struggle is mirrored by Charlie’s own medical journey—facing 35 ear infections in a single year and a lack of immune response to vaccinations—which forced Jen to navigate a public health system that often leaves rural families waiting years for basic surgeries like grommets.Jen also shares behind-the-scenes stories of her advocacy at the policy level, from attending 60 meetings with politicians in 2025 to "raw dogging" a high-pressure panel at the Bush Summit. She exposes the harsh realities of rural health, such as "bypass" and "non-operational" wards, where hospitals are technically open but lack the staff or resources to safely deliver babies

In this episode, Jen shares the origin story of Her Herd, which was sparked by her 2019 miscarriage amidst bushfires and her realization of the massive health gaps between city and rural maternity care. Jen and her guest-host navigate the "authentic mess" of motherhood and ADHD while discussing their current fertility journeys, including the emotional toll of hormone treatments and the pressure of being vulnerable in the public eye.Jen reflects candidly on her harrowing pregnancy with Charlie, a journey marked by passing kidney stones at 28 weeks, battling influenza, and a stressful C-section that resulted in Charlie spending time in special care. The conversation also dives into the heavy weight of advocacy, the hidden financial costs of rural healthcare, and Jen’s hope for a "redemption arc" as she balances her clinical practice with her own family’s needs. Strap in for a conversation that is real, raw, and sometimes ugly, highlighting why your postcode should never dictate the care you receive.

Alicia “Quirky” Lucas - Olympic gold medalist, commentator, physio and proud country girl - sits with me to unpack two wildly different births. We start in Tokyo during peak COVID, where language barriers, strict protocols and a scheduled breech caesarean meant Matt could only meet baby Matilda via FaceTime (and a stolen extra few hours thanks to one very polite midwife). Alicia lets us into the admin maze that followed - citizenship by descent, emergency passports, hotel quarantine with a newborn - and the ache of being far from home.Fast-forward to Agnes Water and Bundaberg: no private options, long drives, and a crash-course in rural maternity realities. Alicia plans for a VBAC, walks in at 40+1 already 5 cm, detours home to tuck Tilly into bed (iconic), then rockets back for a 45-minute, hands-on, coached delivery of Daisy. We talk TENS machines, monitoring and cannula “non-negotiable,” the moment her waters went everywhere (RIP Uggs), the surge of “I did it,” and naming Daisy Lee after her mum - who, in perfect family-chaos form, turned up with a freshly broken ankle and a full heart.Beyond the play-by-play, Alicia shares what elite sport taught her about labour mindset, how to hold both grief and gratitude, and practical ways to keep agency when the system is rigid - especially in the bush. If you’re navigating VBAC decisions, rural care, or just need a brave, generous story to remind you you’re not alone

Part 2 picks up in the glow of birth — that fierce post-birth high, the first feed, the shower, the “we did it” moment — and follows Em into the days and weeks that came next. What begins as ordinary newborn hard quickly tips into something else: fragmented postpartum care, escalating anxiety, pain, no sleep, and a second night on the ward that left her rattled. Back home, the joy kept swinging high, then higher — and then came the crash.Em walks us through the red flags she can see now: the inability to sleep, hyper-vigilance about Levi leaving her sight, spiraling worries about feeding and weight, and a “banshee night” that ended with an ED visit. From there, we trace a system not built for rural families: a psychiatrist who hadn’t seen postpartum psychosis before, a near-miss separation to a psych ward that can’t take babies, and two midwives who stood in the doorway and said, “You will not separate this mother and child.” A bed opens in the Gold Coast mother–baby unit; medication begins; sleep returns. Then the next hard: being away from home and husband, advocating for breastfeeding on heavy meds, finding trust with new nurses, and choosing discharge earlier than recommended because autonomy mattered.Em is clear about what helped her recovery — sleep, continuity, a small circle who showed up, and specialist perinatal mental health care — and she names the gaps: no mother–baby units in most regional areas, clunky referrals, short-supply psychology, and how easily women are told to “just get on with it.” She shares the long horizon too: the fog lifting around 10 months, another wobble at 12, and steadier ground by 14 — not the same person, but stronger, surer, and now advocating for body-weight bias reform, choice and control, and continuity of care for rural women.This episode sits with the messy middle — the fear, the funny, the fragmented memories — and ends with practical signposts: call earlier than you think (PANDA), ask your GP for a perinatal-specific referral (Gidget Foundation, COPE directory), and keep telling your story. Your voice is the change.