My Birthing Story as a First-Time Mom with Endometriosis

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It still feels a little surreal sitting down to write this, even now. Hollis is almost five, and I’ve told pieces of this birthing story over the years—but putting it all in one place brings me right back to it.

Becoming a mom wasn’t something I ever took for granted, especially with my battle with Endometriosis (you can read more about my Endo journey here). There was a time I truly didn’t know if this version of my life would exist. So this story (while messy and a little chaotic) is one I hold onto deeply.

Because it gave me him.

The Months That Tested Me Most

When I found out I was pregnant in September of 2020, I felt everything all at once—excitement, disbelief, and honestly… fear.

We had been trying for almost 10 months, and those months were heavy. I was tracking everything (LH, HCG, timing down to the smallest detail) and nothing was sticking. I had always dreamed of being a mom, but there were moments where I wasn’t sure it was physically possible for me.

At the same time, my Endometriosis was getting worse. The pain was constant and exhausting, and being totally vulnerable… there were days I didn’t know how much longer I could keep pushing through it.

Like so many women, I had been dismissed by multiple doctors along the way. It wasn’t until I found a community (thank you, Nancy’s Nook) that I started getting real answers and learned about Endo specialists.

I had just started the process of getting referred out for surgery when everything changed.

That follow-up appointment with my reproductive doctor rolled around… and I was pregnant!

Fear, Pain, and the First Trimester

I didn’t plan a cute reveal or do anything Pinterest-worthy for Hunter. I saw the test, immediately started crying, and ran out to tell him—barely able to get the words out.

And then the reality set in.

Those first 12 weeks were some of the hardest. The pain was intense—sharp, constant, and honestly scary. There were moments my medical team thought it might lead to an ectopic, and because we chose not to tell anyone yet, it was just the two of us carrying that weight.

For weeks, I felt like I was holding my breath.

At 11 weeks, complications were finally ruled out, and it was determined that my Endo was trying to flare up, but couldn’t because of the pregnancy. Around 12 weeks, the pain eased, and we finally shared the news with our families.

That’s when I shifted into what I do best—preparing.

Preparing for the Unknown

I wanted to feel confident walking into motherhood, so I leaned into research.

Books (of course 😋), online birthing classes, spreadsheets for supplements (yes, really… I was over the top), registry deep dives (I loved Lucie's List)—I did all of it. And while it may sound like overkill, it actually helped calm my anxiety. The more informed I felt, the more grounded I became.

Around this time, I also decided I didn’t want to put pressure on myself when it came to an epidural. I was open to both medicated and unmedicated—I just wanted to decide in the moment.

And after years of living with chronic pain, it wasn’t about whether I could handle it. It was about whether I wanted to.

And I had nothing to prove.

Trusting My Body (Even When It Was Hard)

My OB gave me a due date of May 28th, but my reproductive doctor estimated June 4th based on when I thought I implanted (like I said, we were tracking rigorously) . So when I hit 38 weeks and was encouraged to schedule an induction, something in me hesitated.

So, I chose to wait.

Even at 40 weeks… then 41 weeks… still no baby. I wasn’t exactly comfortable at that point, but I trusted my body—and that later date. And looking back, I’m really glad I did (also because it wasn't until then that Hunter could actually come with me to deliver thanks to Covid, so the timing worked out).

Side note: you have a voice in your care—during pregnancy and birth. But always talk things through with your provider and make sure you’re on the same page. My OB was wonderful and always made me feel at ease, even when I chose to wait.

When Everything Changed

At 11:00pm on June 2nd, I went into labor. I didn’t sleep at all that night. Not even a little.

The next day was spent at home managing contractions (using this free app)—breathing through them, trying to stay relaxed—until they were close enough together that we knew it was time. We packed up that evening and made the 45-minute drive to the hospital. By the time we arrived, I was already at 7cm, and things were moving quickly.

When my doctor broke my water, the intensity shifted fast. I was managing it well for a while, but by 9cm, my body was shaking, and I hit a point where I knew I needed relief.

And this is where I wish someone—anyone—had told me that the overwhelming feeling of “this baby is about to come out of my butt!!” 😂 actually means… you’re very, very close to pushing.

Because in that moment, I just thought, “Okay, yep—this is getting intense.” Which, to be fair, it was. But not one class, book, or course prepared me for that specific feeling. Had I known that meant he was likely minutes away from coming, I probably would’ve held off just a little longer.

But… I didn’t know what I didn’t know. So, I got the epidural.

It helped almost immediately—but it also slowed everything down. I had been progressing quickly, and then suddenly I wasn’t. The doctor suggested I start pushing anyway. I remember thinking it didn’t feel right, but they're the professional. (Trust your gut, friends)

And that’s when everything changed.

One moment I was pushing… the next, I was being rushed to the OR for an emergency C-section with 2 nurses on my bed. I remember hearing, “His heart rate is dropping—we need to get him out NOW,” and everything else faded. Through tears, I closed my eyes and started praying. Singing, actually (Goodness of God) over and over again.
All my life you have been faithful
All my life you have been so so good
With every breath that I am able
Oh I will sing of the goodness of God

Within seconds, his heart rate started coming back up. Even the doctor hesitated. They paused… and instead of moving forward with surgery, they brought me back to my labor room.

And I slept… for 10 hours straight!

The Moment I Became a Mom

The next morning, I was finally at 10cm. I started pushing again—almost instantly, the same situation happened.

Back to the OR—another emergency call. This time, a different doctor was ready to operate. But just like before, his heart rate recovered the second we got there.

I remember saying, “NO… I can do this.”

Hunter came in to support me, and in the middle of everything, he accidentally let go while holding me up during a push. I snapped at him for a split second (sorry, babe), and my doctor literally said, “Do that again—the baby is almost here!”

And with one more push… at 10:34am on June 4th, Hollis was born. (Turns out, he just needed an extravagant entrance 😋)

I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and completely in awe.

They had to take Hollis right away because I had a fever, which wasn’t how I imagined that first moment. But he was healthy, and that’s all that mattered. A few minutes later, they handed him to Hunter, and watching him hold our son for the first time is something I’ll never forget.

And then (through tears) he looked at me and said, “He has red hair?!”

Which, yes… runs in both of our families. But in that moment, it caught us both off guard and made us laugh when we needed it most.

Looking Back on It All

The rest of our hospital stay was a blur of recovery, learning how to care for a newborn, and soaking in every moment.

There was pain I expected, and pain I didn’t (those postpartum fundal massages… no one prepares you for that). There were moments that didn’t go according to plan, like not getting immediate skin-to-skin or not being able to encapsulate my placenta like I had hoped (yes, I'm that girl).

But there were also a ton of moments that felt so right.

We spent our days snuggling, learning, resting, and even celebrating Hunter’s birthday in the hospital with takeout from our favorite Atlanta restaurant and movies before heading home.

And looking back now, years later, I can see it so clearly. My birthing story didn’t go the way I planned, but it unfolded exactly the way God intended it to.

Messy. Emotional. Unexpected.
But also strong, faithful, and full of love.

If you’re walking into motherhood (especially after a difficult journey), just know this: You can trust your gut. You can advocate for yourself. And you can hold space for both the hard and the beautiful at the same time.

Because sometimes, the most meaningful stories are the ones that don’t go according to plan.

Postscript: Practice using your car seat ahead of time… preferably with a baby doll or teddy bear 😂 We were prepared for a lot, but not that. We figured it out and made it home safely though!

If you're new to ItsHannahCallahan, you can read more about me here—and come say hi over on Instagram.