Eli's Birth

I'm about to be very raw and real and you might not understand. But, this is my story - Eli's story. We are very grateful and happy and feeling very blessed to have another amazing child, but right now, I am sad for his birth experience.

**Let me start off by saying this c-section was by far my best one because of my midwife. With this section, I was able to spend lots of time in the OR close to Eli and Chris. Usually, the husband and baby are whisked away quickly. Also, I was able to spend time in the recovery room holding the baby and even nursing in recovery, which again, didn't happen with the other two.**

We knew from the beginning that this birth would be a c-section. I am not a fan of scheduled c-sections. I am all about labours and births and natural and allowing the body to do what it is supposed to, what it is designed for. Unfortunately, for me, this is not the case. My body doesn't work that way and after 2 urgent c-sections for my other two babies, this one was to be scheduled. I'm a supporter of skin to skin, water births, instant breast feeding, delayed cord clamping... the list goes on. I want to know the baby is ready and the baby has some inkling that something is about to change, but again, not this time.

I was fortunate enough to have the amazing Marla be my midwife, even though we knew it would be a section. I loved each and every midwife visit. Marla kept me sane, laughing with me and understanding my pain every time I would tear up about the thought of a scheduled c-section. She is such an amazing rock and I am very grateful that she was able to share my experience with me.

Our birth was scheduled for July 10 (I was due July 12). I did not get any sleep the night before the c-section. How on earth could I sleep, knowing that in a few hours, I would finally get to meet my baby? At 6:30 am, we finally headed to the hospital. I was so nervous and anxious. It all felt so medical - going to the hospital to have a baby, without being in labour. I hate IVs and the thought of the catheter literally made me nauseous with fear. Let me just state for the record that I am okay with pain. I can labour (for days!) without drugs. No big deal. But an IV? No thanks. Catheter? Ummm no.
First we got to the hospital room and I changed into the gown and sexy compression stockings.

Next came the IV. I gave the nurse one chance to do the IV. I'm pretty sure I made her very nervous by confessing all my fears to her before she started looking for a vein. However, she did it and I survived. I didn't even cry.

Then it came time for the catheter. For whatever reason, I was petrified. This was made worse by the hospital's new policy that catheters must be inserted before the patient gets into the OR (read: before you get any spinal/drugs/numbing medicine.) I can't explain why the thought of the catheter made me so scared, but it did. Luckily, I have an amazing husband and midwife who talked me through it. I was first told that they had agreed to do it in the OR so I was doing a little happy dance on my rubber sheeted hospital bed, but then every person that came in told me the risks of doing it in the OR. Then one nurse came in and she convinced me that it would be okay and that she was really good at doing catheters. I looked to Marla for reassurance and she told me if it was anyone else, she'd say no, but she trusted this nurse. So, I did too. And here, I will admit that I cried. It wasn't as bad as I feared at all, but I still cried. Mostly I cried because I felt like a giant dork, but it was a major event in my head and it meant I was one step closer to meeting my baby.

This was my 3rd c-section. With the other two, I was so exhausted that I wasn't really aware of what exactly was going on. I would doze off and on and felt pretty loopy. This time, I was very aware of everything. I left my husband and midwife and walked to the OR alone (wait - not true. I had a nurse and my trusty IV pole, carrying my bag of pee). Let me tell you, the operating rooms on Grey's Anatomy seem a lot friendlier than the one at Boundary.  I hopped up on the table, and then sat nervously by myself, waiting to get the spinal. Here, I was really wishing for Chris or Marla or someone to hold my hand. I can't believe I was so afraid of the IV and catheter, but yet getting a giant needle in my spine wasn't the greatest of my fears.

Then I felt the numbing, having my arms strapped down, seeing the surgery prep take place, hearing everyone talking... I wished I was sleeping. I was cold and lonely and although I couldn't feel pain, I could feel all kinds of pressure as the doctors did what they do. Finally, Chris came in and it was easier to be distracted. I focused on him and we talked about the baby. I remember the doctor saying, "On the count of three, you'll have to push." I even asked, "What?? How can I push?" Then she laughed and said, "Not you, the other doctor."

Let me tell you - c-sections are rough. There is nothing gentle about getting that baby out. They pushed and heaved and I'm pretty sure there was even grunting, but then at 8:16 a.m., my big baby boy let out the sweetest loud cry. My heart was happy and full.

Chris left me for a few minutes to go watch our son get inspected and dressed. Then he brought Eli over to me so I could meet him. This part is always so bittersweet. I can see this sweet baby, but I can't hold him. I can only turn my head and touch noses. It's this moment that I miss out on the most. All I want at that moment is skin to skin snuggles with my baby and instead someone else holds him close to my face. I really can't get a good look at the baby as I can't even lift my head. Even as I write this, I have tears streaming down my face as I think about what I missed out on.

Marla draped a towel over the three of us. At first, I thought it was weird, but then I realized that with the towel, it was easier to focus on just the three of us - not the lights and sounds of the OR.

At this point, we still hadn't officially named him because I wanted to have a good look at him and choose the name that we felt really fit. We cuddled and talked and enjoyed our little man under that towel until it was time for Chris and Marla to leave and weigh and measure and clean up the baby.

Then came the boring part - me laying on the table, waiting while they stitched me up. I was cold and lonely. This is when I wished that I was sleepy or drugged or something. I actually started counting all the little dots on the ceiling tiles to pass time. I was very aware of my surroundings. I sometimes think that doctors forget that I am there, awake, listening to their conversations.

Then I was moved to the recovery room, where again I just waited. I don't remember being in the recovery room with the other two at all. Chris tells me I slept through that part. This time, there was no sleeping, just a lot more waiting. Finally Chris and Marla returned and I was able to actually see and hold my baby.

It was here that we decided for sure that our baby's name was Eli. I'm pretty sure at that point Chris would have agreed to anything I suggested. Here, Marla was able to help my start breast feeding and let me just say, Eli was a champ and we had no problems.
After the recovery room, I was wheeled to room 29, our home for the next three days.

I felt really good, and after some more bonding time we started making the calls to share our news and at about 11:45, our kids came to meet their new brother. It was amazing to have our family all complete.

Again, I just want to state that we realize we are unbelievably blessed to have yet another healthy baby. We are grateful for doctors and nurses and for surgeries. Please don't interpret this post as anything other than our birth story. It's not the same for everyone. We are thankful for our Eli, no matter how he came here.

Love.