My birth story

Tears of joy. Tears of pain. Pain in all kinds of places. Joy in all the right places.

The miracle of enduring unimaginable, excruciating pain with the reward of a precious new life is simply breathtaking.

Just more proof for me that God is real. God is alive. God is in control.

My birth story began in the early morning hours of May 15, 2018. I was 37 weeks and 2 days pregnant. My due date was June 3, so I really wasn’t expecting anything to happen quite yet. My daughter had arrived two days before her due date (39 weeks 5 days), so I had anticipated a similar arrival from my second born.

My sleep was painful, sporadic, and extremely uncomfortable (as it had been before pregnancy), so I wasn’t getting much. I was up visiting the bathroom about five times a night at this point. As I rolled over around 5 am on this particular day, I felt something a little different. I felt something probably much like a bowling ball pressing down in my lower lady parts. “Whoah! I thought. “That is a little strong. That hurts.”

I got up to use the bathroom and tried to lay back down for a bit. My husband was up around 5:45 am getting ready for work. After unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep again, I got up around 6 am. The pressure I originally felt had at least doubled or tripled, but now I mainly felt it in my back. I looked at my husband and said “I think I need you to stay here today and not go to the office”. I was reassuring him and myself this wasn’t labor. I told him it must just be some back pain.

I started a warm bath in hopes of calming down the pain. Many times that can ease Braxton Hicks labor pains or early labor. As I sat in the tub, the pains continued to heighten, and I began to have moments of pain that took my breath away. I was googling back labor on my phone while in the tub. In the meantime my daughter woke up and stumbled in our bathroom half asleep. “What’s wrong with mommy?” she asked daddy. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” I’d started to moan some in pain.  I was having trouble talking to her and answering her questions. She’s a sweet, sensitive soul, and she was worried. I assured her all was okay. It was clear rather quickly the bath wasn’t helping. My husband helped me out. I texted my immediate family around 6:15 that we were going to the doctor or hospital, but they didn’t need to rush up here. I was convinced it wasn’t labor. I was very early. This couldn’t be happening now. Could it?

I decided to take a quick shower. Working from home, pregnant, and taking care of a four year old, I sometimes lose track of when my last shower was.  I attempted to shave my legs. When you are in labor, shaving your legs is a high priority, right? I successfully shaved one leg by lifting it up onto the seat in the shower, but I started to really lose my breath. So, the second leg being shaved just wasn’t happening. I got out and said, “So…..we aren’t going to the doctor. We are going to the hospital.” My husband tried to remain calm for all of us. My daughter and I aren’t the best at remaining calm. Like a tornado of craziness, we got everyone and everything ready and in the car as fast as possible. We had our bags only partially packed.  Is this really happening? OHHHHHHH, something is DEFINITELY happening.

We texted Ellie’s wonderful daycare, and they allowed her to come early at 7:30 am. We then began our journey to the hospital. We were then fairly confident I was in labor. My husband tried not to panic as we pulled onto Peachtree Parkway on our way to Northside Hospital in Atlanta morning rush hour traffic. I was trying not to panic myself. I turned on Pandora and cranked some rap music. It is my jam and calmed me down some. It was exactly what I needed. My husband tried to turn it down, so we could talk if needed. “Noooo!” I said. He obliged.

I turned to my husband at least twice and said, “Do you think we can get a police escort?” However, by the time the police arrived, it probably wouldn’t have helped. So, we pressed on. We were using the emergency lanes where we could. However, there was debris in so many of the areas we feared we could get a flat tire, which would have been worse.

I was texting with some friends, and they asked if I was sitting on a towel. I had to laugh out loud when I realized that I had the towel in my lap. It was not under me, and there was no way I could get it there now. Luckily, my water didn’t break in the car.

I was seriously thinking I may be on the 5:00 o’clock news for having a baby in the car in rush hour. OMGGGGG, please traffic. Come on! The trip to the hospital took about 45-50 minutes (without rush hour it’s about a 20 minute trip). We arrived at the hospital just after 8 am.

They were slow taking me back. I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes. My husband was counting. I was just trying to breathe. I could barely think straight. I was that lady from many movies in the hospital waiting area making loud labor noises getting ready to yell if they didn’t take me back STAT. It felt like an eternity before they finally took me back.  They barely got me in the bed and into a gown. I wasn’t sure I could even sit down.

A nurse examined me. She had a funny look on her face and ask another nurse to check me. “What?” I anxiously said. “Well, I think you are 10 cm, but I’d like for someone else to check too.” Yes, the nurses agreed I was. The doctor came in. I’d made a point to meet every single doctor in my practice. However, I hadn’t met her. Go figure, right? Luckily, I didn’t freak out.  What choice did I have. She ended up being fantastic, and I didn’t really care if we’d previously made small talk. I just needed a doctor. One of the many differences in this labor versus the last one is that once the doctor came in, she never left the room. It was GO time. The nurse couldn’t get an IV in my arm and finally gave up on it.

As I explained my medical history to my new doctor, she and the nurses became more and more shocked: twelve surgeries (mostly female related) with Endometriosis, one ovary and tube left, not to mention my other issues and daily chronic pain. I explained with the seriousness of my conditions that doctors had recommended a hysterectomy when I was in my early twenties. Fertility specialists had also told me I probably would never have kids. However, I shared that I never gave up on my dream. They were blown away with my story, and I’m shocked I was able to tell it while in labor. My husband filled in some blanks when I didn’t have the air to breathe.

We debated the epidural for about 30 seconds. I’d decided it would be a game time decision. I’d planned not to have one; but, in the heat of the moment with my medical history, I was second guessing myself. To my surprise the nurses said, “You are handling this better than most women who have a epidural, and you are fully dilated.” “Really?” I said. I pressed on like a champ with no epidural, which I knew was healthier for me and the baby. They popped my water bag. That wasn’t pleasant, but I didn’t feel too much since there was other pain going on. I’ve never seen a gush quite like that. I heard it splash a huge area of the room, including my husband’s shoes. I asked him right after labor, “Oh no, did your shoes get wet? Are you okay?” He giggled slightly, saying, “Yes, I’m okay. I’m really not worried about my shoes.”

I pushed every 30 seconds for about 15 minutes. The doctor described that I may feel something like a “ring of fire” towards the end. Boy, was she right. I remember saying “Help me!” several times. It was definitely the most intense pain I’ve ever felt.  They told me the baby was so close. I knew I could do it.  I had a few ice chips in between pushes, and my husband was a rock. I couldn’t look him in the eye though. I didn’t want him to see the pain in my eyes.  He held my hand and my leg (as guided by the doctor).

Before we knew it the doctor said he’s coming. He’s here!!!!  Pure joy and amazement overwhelmed me as I saw him come out. Wow! Is this real? Did that really just come out of me? Even though this was my second time, it is still unbelievable to witness what the human body can do, especially mine.

My husband and I heard him cry. That gave us comfort. My husband cut the cord. Then, they handed him to me. As I held him against my chest, I felt like I was in a dream. Unimaginable love immediately engulfed my heart. My body that has been through the ringer, suffered so much, and still does every single day, ROCKED this. No drugs or interventions were used during labor. I did it. God did it. We brought new life into the world.

I passed the placenta, which is always a fun treat after labor. They informed me that where I had my last episiotomy I tore. So, they stitched me up. They ask if I wanted anything for pain. They hadn’t had time to put in an IV, so they offered me a morphine shot. I decided to take it to calm my nervous system down. However, they were slow in retrieving it. No rush people. It’s not like I just had a baby. By the time I passed the placenta, was completely stitched up and basically had calmed down (45 minutes or so after labor), I got the shot. I wondered if I even needed it at that point. However, my nervous system was grateful for a small shot of relief.

He arrived weighing 7 lbs, 10 oz at 9:08 am. His name is Marshall Alan Wogsland. Marshall is my mother-in-law’s maiden name, and Alan is after my dad. It was very special to us to use family names.

Side note: I’d developed Gestational Diabetes during pregnancy. The doctors had become increasingly worried about him being too large. They thought they’d possibly having to induce me or take him via c-section. At 34 weeks he was measuring 6 lbs 14 oz! By the grace of God, he came on his own, and I avoided more surgery.

We got to have the “golden hour” with him. He rested on my chest. The room was quiet and calming. My husband and I beamed and quietly celebrated our second complete miracle.  He’s here. He’s healthy, happy, beautiful, and complete perfection.

The adrenaline that day made me feel like a rockstar.  My chronically ill body did this! My body that wasn’t supposed to be able to make babies has now made and delivered two. What did we do to deserve this? Thank you, God. Pain can coincide with joy. They are living proof.