My great grandmother (father's mother's mother) had home births for all 9 of her children in Quebec. She was still alive when my second was born (at home), and when I went to Boston to visit, she told me all about it, in French, which my grandmother tried to interpret. My poor grandmother had practically forgotten her French, and my 97 y/o ggm had totally forgotten her English.
My grandmother had her first 2 at home, but the next 3 in hospital.
On my Mom's side, her mother had her first at home, she was only 13, and unmarried, and her pregnancy was kept a secret. When my uncle was born, her parents pretended he was theirs. Then she had the next three in a hospital. When she had my mom, my grandfather didn't go to pick her up because she was so malnourished and he didn't have money to feed her. As long as she was in the hospital, he knew she'd be fed. I don't know the method of birth.
When my mom had me, she went out for pizza with my dad, her water broke, and by the time she got to the hospital she was feeling pressure. She practiced yoga back then (1965) and was doing her yoga breathing, so no-one believed her when she said she wanted to push. 20 minutes after she got there, a nurse finally agreed to check her, and when she lifted the sheet that was covering my mom, apparently I was staring back at her. She yelped, delivered the rest of me, and called a doctor.

When she had my brother, she made it as far as the hallway to the delivery ward.
My next 2 brothers were unplanned, unassisted home births. Midwife never got close to making it.

My second brother was born 2 hours before midwife arrived, and they never even had time to call her for the third until after he was born.
My mom always said about her births, "I NEVER even had time to wash my feet first!"