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This Is The Most Amazing Home Birth Story You'll Ever Read

And there wasn't a dry eye left on the internet when the parents finished telling the story on Twitter.

Meet Marco Rogers and Aniyia Williams.

But why don't we let Marco tell the whole story.

I've got about 10-15 minutes before she wakes up. So it's time to tell the story of how I delivered my own baby girl.

Yup. Strap in, because this is a wild ride.

She was born in our house. In our bed. Just me and @operaqueenie. With my father in law also there in the house. No, this was NOT planned.

As you may have guessed, @operaqueenie is Aniyia.

So let me start by saying Aniyia was pretty apprehensive about labor. Understandable of course. But she was looking for ways to prepare.

She was open to getting the drugs if things got too bad, but she really wanted to have a natural birth.

Kaiser is totally down with supporting that. And they recommend that you labor at home for most of the process.

I believe this is called "foreshadowing."

Aniyia learned about hypnobirthing. Essentially meditation and relaxation techniques for managing pain and anxiety of natural birth.

(Learn more about hypnobirthing here.)

We asked her OB and she was on board. "Giving birth is the only thing you don't have to learn how to do. Your body already knows."


So early Saturday morning, my wife wakes up with contractions. This is about 5 days early. But that wasn't entirely unexpected.

We had this app called Full Term. It lets you time your contractions and keeps track of their intensity and the time in between.

The app asks you to rate your contractions. 1 Very mild 2 Mild 3 Moderate 4 Strong 5 Very strong This is relevant. So keep it in mind.

Got that? 5 is VERY STRONG.

Let me fast forward a little, because she labored normally for about 9 hours. We went from very mild to mostly moderate contractions.

All this time she's handling it like a champ. Breathing through it. Using her birthing ball. I'm massaging and encouraging.

*googles birthing ball* Oh look, there's a YouTube video!

All this time she's handling it like a champ. Breathing through it. Using her birthing ball. I'm massaging and encouraging.

Can we just pause to reflect on what an amazing husband Marco is?!

[Did you pause? I'm not going to continue until you've all paused.]


I want to stress that this follows everything we've been told by Kaiser up to this point. We're not worried about heading to the hospital.

I'm starting to think that Marco is REALLY good at foreshadowing.

They said first child labor could be up to 24 hours. We called them once and they said "you're doing great. Stay at home".

La la la.

Then Strong contractions. Number 4 on the scale. I remember because it was the first time a sound involuntarily escaped my wife's mouth.

Shit, this just went from 0 to 100.

It was scary. But @operaqueenie is a trooper. She just grunted and breathed and said. "I'm fine."


We had a system. I was timing the contractions. So when one would start, she would say the keyword "banana".

I don't know why they needed a safe word, BUT I LIKE IT.

The contractions were lasting about 1 to 1.5 minutes. And they were about 5-6 minutes apart.

Eventually the system broke down. "Look, unless I say otherwise, they are ALL strong contractions."

So let me back up. My father in law came into town that same day around noon. Not to witness the birth, but to work on @tinselwear with her.

Remember how I said she was not just nine months pregnant, but also RUNNING A GOTDAMN COMPANY? This woman is serious #Goals.

That startup life is real. My wife was grinding right up until she went into labor. Anyway, he's hanging out for most of this labor ordeal.

*nods head*

When the strong contractions started coming, he was pretty freaked out. I don't know what it's like to hear your daughter like that.

Shit's starting to get real over here.

Okay, so we've done some solid laboring. We're all proud of ourselves. But things are getting hectic. Time to go in to the hospital right?

We call Kaiser again. Tell them she's having pretty strong contractions and they're 5 minutes apart. (Get an app to keep track. Seriously.)

I'm trying to picture myself being this calm under these circumstances, and I'm utterly failing.

"We usually like to wait until they're 2-3 minutes apart. That signals active labor is approaching." Oh? Do tell.


I'm a little worried. But we still think we have time. It's only been about 10-11 hours. Plus my wife is still hanging in there.


This is where I might recommend the hypnobirthing book. It's little new agey. Okay maybe a lot. But my wife is handling things so well.

So Kaiser says give it an hour or 2. But @operaqueenie is looking for ways to actively manage the pain. So we decide to put her in the bath.

A nice bath does sound like just what the doctor ordered. OH WAIT THERE'S NO DOCTOR.

Water is supposed to help labor a lot. Even Kaiser has a tub they will put you in if you come in to the hospital. Cool, let's do this.

Okay this has been a lot of build up. But things start to go pretty fast at this point. Strap in y'all.

I mean, I was already riveted, but DO GO ON.

So the contractions are legit now. I remember the last one she had before the tub was the first time she actually exclaimed. "Jesus Christ".

THE FIRST TIME?! Can I get whatever Aniyia is having?

But we get her in the tub. And for the first few minutes, it seems to be helping. She's leaning back and breathing a little easier.

Let's let Aniyia interject for a moment.

This is where the shit hit the fan from my view. A couple mins of relaxing then water broke and all hell broke lose. https://t.co/R0NXACE4UA

All of a sudden I felt the craziest pain I have ever experienced and the sound I made.... It felt like someone else was making it.

And then that pushing urge kicked in. Like I was going to take the biggest crap of my life in that tub.

This is...apparently what happens during childbirth. Lots o' poop.

On that note, let's turn it back to Marco.

And then it happened. All of a sudden my wife says she felt "a pop and a gush". Her water had broken.

At that exact moment another contraction hit. Category 5. And a sound came out of my wife that scared the shit out of me.

"Category 5" is also how they describe a really bad hurricane, which seems apt in this scenario.

Let me tell y'all something. Most of us only know late stage labor from what we see in movies. Some of it is accurate, but not the sound.

It's not a scream, it's not a brave grunt, it's not tense teeth gritting. My father in law described it as a wail. Low and heart-wrenching.


I never want to hear that sound again from someone I love. Not ever.

*double whimper*

So at this point, we know it's going down. Kaiser says if the water breaks, call immediately. We need to get the hospital STAT.

Back to Aniyia...

I stand up to get out of the tub and :::push contraction::: OMG OMG OMG WE'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME. @polotek is trying to get me to...

...snap out of it and get dressed so we can leave. I put my clothes back on. Earlier I was worried about what I was gonna wear to hospital..

...tryna be cute. Now I'm like "fuck the bra, fuck the wig". I prob would've even skipped underwear if fluid wasn't running down my legs.

"Fuck the bra, fuck the wig" = new life motto.

Anyway, as Marco was saying...

I start gathering the stuff. We've got the "go bag" ready. I tell my father in law who had tried to lay down and rest. "We're going. Now."

I have him put the stuff in the car (ProTip: we should've done this earlier in the day). I head back to collect the love of my life.

OK, time to pause again to think about what a great husband Marco is.

Everyone pause? Great.

She is totally out of it. Fuck breathing. Fuck counting. Mind you it has been 5-7 minutes since first getting her into the bath.

He wasn't kidding when he said things were going to start moving faster when we got to the bath part.

Me: "We gotta go babe" Her: "I can't make it." Me: "Yes we will. We have to. Let's do this." Her: "Oh my god. I'm getting the urge to push."

... ... ... "You can't do that. Don't push. We have to get to the hospital."

Yeeeeah. Guess who's not making it to the hospital.

I have to get her dried off, dressed, and into the car. And then a 20 minute drive to Kaiser across town. OHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT.

Yeah, NOPE.

Everything is moving in slow motion. She's out of the tub. I'm pulling a dress over her head. I'm walking her down to the garage.


We are still about 10-12 minutes from the time we first got into the tub. "Give it another hour or 2". Man, listen.




We're at the garage. I'm mentally preparing for the wild drive across town with her screaming in the back. Like the movies right y'all?

Perhaps you were wondering how Aniyia was feeling during these moments?

He gets me out of the bathroom and I just start grabbing everything I can on the way to the garage thinking I'm gonna need it...

I didn't need any of it. Anyway I'm standing in the foyer in front of the door to the garage where I see @polotek and my dad frantically...

...loading the car &amp; @polotek is telling me to get in &amp; I'm like "I don't think this is a good idea. I'm gonna shit all over the car."

Yup. Poop.


My wife stops. She's wailing. "I can't. I'm gonna have this baby right now. I can feel the head." She starts to *sit down in our foyer*.


So I can't really process the head coming out situation. My father and law and I are still thinking we can get her into the car.

My wife is the only one with clarity. "Call 911. Get the What to Expect book. There's a section on emergency delivery."

Note to self: Memorize the What to Expect book.

Where's this book? *Fuck. This is happening.* Where did I put the book? *Fuck. I don't know if I can do this.* WHERE THE HELL IS THIS BOOK?!

Note to self: Keep What to Expect book on my person AT ALL TIMES.

I finally lay my hands on What to Expect When You're Expecting. It's been a godsend through pregnancy. I think it's about to save me again.

I go back upstairs. I've got the book in hand. I'm flipping through finding the section on emergency delivery.

I walk into our bedroom. My wife is on all fours. I can see the top of my baby's head. I don't have time to read shit.

(Is your heart racing? My heart's racing.)

I rush over. No idea what to do. She says "it's happening". I don't even have the mental capacity to think "no shit".

At the same time, I'm hyper focused. Tunnel vision. She wails again and my baby girl's head comes out. I see her face for the first time.

This is a man you want in a crisis situation.


She's blue. She's covered in goo. She's blue. She's beautiful. Oh fuck, she's blue. She can't breathe!


Now I'm talking my wife through it. "I can see her head babe. But she's gotta come out. You gotta push."

"I can't. I can't push. Can you grab her? Can you reach in and get her?" OHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT

Ohhhhhhh my god.

Y'all. I can't really describe what it's like to try to do that. To try to reach in with your hands and pull a baby out of a vagina.


I can't do it. I was so afraid that I would hurt her or my wife. Probably both. She feels so fragile. I can't. But I have to. What do I do?

Then it became a moot point. A fresh contraction starts. Wailing. Pushing. And Noemi Rose Rogers pops right out into my hands.


I've got her. She's in my hands. My baby was just born. In our bed. In our house.

Right then is when my tunnel vision broke. I realized my father in law was on speaker phone with 911. They were "talking me through it".

The only thing I actually remembered this woman say was right at that moment. "You have to hold her tight. She's going to be slippery."

For the record, that is indeed true. Brand new humans are very slippery.

She's still in my hands. Still. Eyes closed. Flashback: "Oh fuck, she's blue. She can't breathe!"

The 911 dispatcher is still talking to me. I realize she's asking "is she crying?". She is not.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

She's still in my hands. She's still attached to my wife. I have used up all of my heroics. I have no idea what to do.

I shift her a little. Move her into my harms. I bouncer her a little. I try to pat her back. I need her to cry, yell, burp, spit, SOMETHING.

She spits out some fluid. She wriggles just a little. And then she lets out one sharp, clear yelp. And breathes.

Oh my GOD thank god.

My southern baptist upbringing comes through. I can hear my late grandmother in my head saying "Thank you Jesus. Thank you Lord. Amen Lord."


Y'all let me tell you about my baby girl. Other than 2-3 yelps like that, she doesn't cry at all. Her eyes are open and she's looking at me.

She has just been through the most intense ordeal. And she's just like her momma. A trooper. Breathing. Handling it.

I wanna catch the Holy Ghost and pass out. But I can't,... cause, you know, I'm holding a baby.

Are you grinning wildly now? I am grinning wildly now.

So we've gotten through the hard part. Noemi seems fine. She's starting to get some color. @operaqueenie seems okay.

And that's when the EMTs decide to show up. Yeah come on in I guess. But we good here.


One last thing. The What To Expect book did sort of come in handy. The EMTs assisted me in cutting the cord. And we used it as the surface.

Okay, y'all can relax. That's it. That's how my wife and I brought our child into this world together. In our bed.


Welcome to the world, Noemi! And congratulations, Marco and Aniyia!

I'll say.

All tweets used with permission.