The Arrival of Elias

I am one of those people who likes to be prepared for every possibility. I read about 5 books on childbirth, went to the childbirth class at the hospital, and, of course, wrote up a birth plan. Everyone said to make sure I was flexible with my birth plan, but I didn't make it too complicated. There were really only 4 things I was set on: no meds (pain or labor inducing), no c-section, immediate contact with the baby after birth, and not Dr. P. to deliver if my doctor couldn't be there (apparently he goes to my church and is very good looking, and I just found that weird). Unfortunately, not one of my desires happened.

First, the doctor was concerned, because I was measuring small. But after my doctor's appointment Monday night, I started having contractions lasting about 60 seconds and 7 minutes apart. I was excited because I knew that I had an ultrasound on Tuesday and if my doctor thought things didn't look good, he would induce me. I was hoping that having contractions would mean I could avoid being induced.

Tuesday morning I went in for an ultrasound and the doctor noticed that the amniotic fluids were low and told me we were going to have a baby that day and to head straight to the hospital. I told him I'd meet him there in an hour after I called Aaron at work, told him to tell his patient goodbye and get his butt home. When we arrived at the hospital around 11:30, they checked me and I was dilated 2cm and 100% effaced and already having contractions! They decided to let me continue labor on my own, but after about an hour, the doctor decided to get things going a little quicker and came and broke my bag of waters. Labor intensified then, but I was still progressing pretty slowly, despite having 90 second contractions that were about 3-4 minutes apart. And I continued to have mostly back labor (which really sucks, in case you didn't know). However, they let me move around, get in the hot tub (best place ever!), sit on a ball, walk around, etc. Contractions got stronger and closer together, but after several hours, I still wasn't more than 4cm dilated. But when the doctor checked me, I was already a +1 (if you know labor terms, it means Elias' head was really low -- much lower than it should have been at 4cm. Many people don't get to a +1 until they've started the pushing phase of labor).

The doctor decided to start me on pitocin, but I convinced him that my contractions were really strong and I thought I could continue to labor without it. Labor got even more intense, and I was convinced I was dying, but Aaron was AMAZING and helped me through all of the crazy long contractions, and after a couple of hours I was 7cm dilated! Things were looking up! Then the contractions came long and hard with almost no break between contractions, which should have meant I was getting close to the end. Unfortunately, my cervix wasn't dilating anymore. I made it to an 8 and wanted to die. They kept letting me move around and sit in the hot tub, but after another hour and not progressing past an 8 despite the awful contractions, I gave in and did what I said I'd never do -- I got an epidural. The doctor was hoping it would help me relax my pelvic muscles, because I kept tightening them due to the back labor. The hope was that I could relax and the baby could just come on out since he was already a +1 and I was close to a 9. I sobbed uncontrollably for about 15 minutes while they gave me the epidural. I knew I didn't want the pain meds, but I didn't think I could take it anymore. Talk about feeling like a failure! However, when the pain relief came, I was pretty glad I had the meds. It slowed down labor for about 20 minutes, and then contractions started up again 2 minutes apart and nice and strong. But that's when things got bad.

2 hours after the epidural, despite the continuous contractions and then pitocin at the end, I hadn't dilated anymore -- I was stuck at 9cm. Then all of a sudden, as my feeling was coming back, I started having severe lower abdominal pain that didn't coincide with contractions. Along with the pain, Elias' heart rate started rising and dropping and rising again. That was when the doctor came in and said it was time do to a c-section. C-sections are pretty much my worst nightmare -- I'd had a previous abdominal surgery 4 years ago that was almost the same thing as a c-section, and it was one of the most painful experiences of my life. I did not want to deal with recovering from major surgery while caring for a newborn and trying to take care of my two other sons. But at that point, Elias' health and safety was more important than my pain level, so off we went to the surgery room. Nothing was going as I had hoped and planned, and then what doctor should show up in the operating room to help out -- yep, Dr. P., the one doctor I said I didn't want to deliver my baby. He was great and very personable, and he and Dr. G. did an awesome job getting Elias out, but I had to laugh -- could everything I wanted to happen be opposite of what really did?! Of course, I also couldn't hold Elias right away, because they were stitching me up, but I got to watch him being weighed out of the corner of my eye, and Aaron was able to be with him from birth to the nursery. He came out with the biggest conehead I've ever seen in my life (I guess that's what happens when you're stuck so low in the pelvis for over 12 hours) and looked more like an alien than a baby, but he was healthy and strong and crying (as was I). I was just glad it was over and that he was okay.

Aaron and I have been reflecting a little on the whole experience (and how it made me never ever want to give birth again). We were talking about how having natural childbirth had potentially become an idol for us. It was definitely a pride issue for me -- I wanted to prove I was as tough as everyone else. Of course I know it's better for the baby to not have meds, etc. and of course we question if there were things we could have done differently so that a c-section wasn't necessary, but in the end, we have a healthy, happy baby boy. Why does it matter how he got here? Why do women look down on each other for not doing things naturally? Why does it have to be a competition? In the end, there are more important things in life than whether or not my birth plan was followed. I think God was reminding me again that I'm not in control. And that when you're raising kids, you have to be flexible. And just maybe He was trying to humble me a little bit and show me that life isn't a big competition, and no, I don't have to "win" or do something to impress God or others. He loves me no matter what.

So even if Elias' birth didn't go as planned, I still have a healthy baby boy, and I won't let his birth define me or him. It's time to move on and enjoy him now -- not look back with regrets on 29 hours that could have been different. Because in the grand scheme of things, 1 day isn't really all that big of a deal. Except as the day I finally got to meet my third son!