Eli's Birth Story (this is long... Don't say I didn't warn ya.)

Well I am finally getting around to telling you all about the day Eli was born. I need to record this because if I don't do it now, I may never do it, and I just don't want to forget all of the special details.

On Wednesday night (May 30th) I went to bed feeling sick to my stomach. I woke up a few times in the night feeling achy in my abdomen. It never occurred to me that this could be early labor. The thought that went through my head was, "Oh great! I ate something wrong. This is going to be a long night." I woke up Thursday morning feeling much the same as I had the night before. I felt slightly more sick, but I still never really thought much about it. As Kenny was getting Shiloh changed I realized that the pains in my stomach were slightly more regular than most "sick stomach feelings". They kind of ebbed and flowed and had a rhythm. During breakfast, at around 6:45 a.m., I mentioned this to Kenny.

"So, uh... these could be contractions."

To which Kenny replied, "Are they?"

"I think so, but they could be just braxton hicks, or practice labor or something. I am not really sure."

You may be thinking to yourself, "This woman has already had a kid. She should KNOW what contractions are." Let me explain. With Shiloh, my water broke in the middle of the night. No warnings. No precursors. No labor. No pain. Just water gushing. I didn't even start having contractions for another 2 hours. So this was a very different scenario if I was starting labor.

Back to the story:

Kenny then asks, "Should I stay home from work?"

To which I reply, "No. If this is labor, it is the very beginning, and could take a while. Besides, this probably isn't even it. I am pretty sure I would know, right?"

Kenny leaves and I decide that maybe I should see if these are time-able contractions. To my surprise they were quite time-able. Every 10 minutes to be exact. At 8 o'clock I decided that I should probably text Kenny and my midwife to let them know what was going on. My midwife told me that I should let her know when they were 5 to 7 minutes apart for a half an hour and to try and take a hot shower. Sometimes it speeds things up and sometimes it slows them down. Just try and gauge what my body was up to. Kenny said he could come home or stay. I told him to stay at work until I was sure that this was the real thing. For some strange reason, I was in denial that anything was going on. I felt pain, not bad, but it was there. I felt contractions and pressure coming on regularly, but I was so afraid to get my hopes up that Eli was coming and then be let down when it was just false labor.

I put Shiloh down for his nap and then I hopped in the shower. I was timing my contractions. Almost immediately they changed. They went from every ten minutes to every 3 to 5 minutes. They weren't lasting terribly long.

I called my midwife Kelly. She said she would jump in the car. You see, she lives almost 2 hours away and she didn't want to miss anything. It seemed like my body was moving quickly. I called my friend Kaci after that. She said that she would be happy to take Shiloh for the day. What a saint! My mom wasn't flying in until Sunday, and I didn't want to birth my child at home with a 1 year old crying and trying to take daddy away. It just wouldn't have worked out for me.

I called Kenny and told him to come home and pump up my awesome birth pool. He was on his way home a short two hours after I had sent him to work. I guess it is good that he got some things done, but I should have just known that things were heading in the right direction and kept him home.

Kelly showed up at around 11 o'clock. My friend Kaci came at around noon to pick up Shiloh. By this point I was trying to concentrate really hard through my contractions. They were manageable, but needed some focus to get through. After Shiloh left, it seemed like things were slowing down. It was kind of frustrating to me. I was really hoping for a short labor this time around. I just wanted to finally meet my little guy. I was trying not get too discouraged.

At about 2 o'clock, I decided it was time to get into the birth pool. The water felt oh so nice. It helped me focus a little better too. This whole time, Kenny was by my side being my rock. He held my hand, pressed on my back, gave me water and snacks, and pretty much was the encouragement I needed. I most definitely couldn't have done it without him there. I noticed after a while of being in the pool, that my contractions were getting further apart again.

Although the water felt nice, I was getting into positions that were not progressing me as fast as I had been when I was up and around or bouncing on an exercise ball. I was starting to feel flustered. I knew that this baby would come whether I got up and sped things a long or not. I could wait in the pool and let it happen slowly, or I could alternate pool and walking and help get the process going a little faster. The problem with latter option was, that it felt a bit masochistic. I felt a little bit of trepidation at the thought of bringing on more pain anatd discomfort. At the same time I was getting very frustrated that Eli wasn't coming quicker. After asking Kenny for a Priesthood blessing, I decided to get up and get things moving a little quicker. I was in and out of the pool for the next 3 hours.

At around 5 o'clock, I was starting to feel a lot pain, so I decided to stay in the water until the boy came. I had to hum my way through every contraction. I also, for one reason or another, felt like crying and laughing at the same time. I started crying inevitably. Although in labor, I was still pregnant, so the tears usually win out. It wasn't so much out of pain, but just exhaustion and the desire to have this over with. I knew I was in for the hardest part next. I just wanted to be done and looking back on the whole labor. I wanted to be holding my baby and feeling empowered. I knew that I could do it, that is, after all, what my body was made for, but I wanted it to be over.

This about the time that I hit transition. The pushing sensations started coming on. Slowly at first. They helped ease some of the pain, but not much. I had to find some hidden place deep inside my mind to keep it together. I didn't want to lose it and become hysterical. I was lying on my back in the pool and then the pushing really started. I flipped over to a different position. I really really really didn't want to break my tailbone again. This is also when the pain hit. The true pains of birthing another human being. The one that make you realize that you are doing something so much bigger than yourself. The ones that make you act more primal than you ever thought imaginable, or maybe I just felt that way. I have to honest and say that these took my by surprise. They were way more intense than I could have ever imagined. The pushing was out of my control as well. I remember with the first big push that my water broke. With the next big push he was crowning. With the next, I almost had his head but he slipped back in. This was utter disappointment and discouragement. If I had been able to quit right then and there, I probably would have, but I didn't have a choice, and what a good thing, my body took over and I went with it. With the next push his head was out and then next, the rest of him was out.

My little Eli James. I scooped him out of the water, and he was beautiful and perfect and lovely and healthy. After goo-ing and ga-ing over him for the first minute or two, I remember looking over at Kenny and saying, "I don't know if I am ever going to do that again." I was serious for that moment. It was hard work. It was only 11 minutes of pushing, but it was exhausting. When they first told me that I had only pushed for 11 minutes, I thought they were joking. It felt so much longer than that. But now, as I look back at the experience, it doesn't seem that long. Time has an interesting way of distorting our views for the better.

After I birthed Eli, I went to get out of the birthing pool and almost fainted. If you know me very well at all, then you know that I get absolutely squeamish at the sight of blood or needles or anything like that. I literally fainted when I got my ears pierced at 6, just because something went into me. I guess the adrenaline was wearing off and I started to realize there was blood and such around. I also was having a hard time breathing. My abdominal muscle had slightly separated at the diaphragm during pregnancy, so I had to splint my stomach getting out of the pool. I got into the shower and then got into bed. Despite a little wooziness from my total wimpy-ness, I actually felt great. I felt alive and I felt like my body knew what it was doing.

The overall experience of having my little Eli was tremendous in numerous ways. I feel accomplished and empowered. I feel as though my faith in my body has grown. Also, as I look back at the whole experience, especially the end, it seems to be more and more sacred. It was a moment in which I sacrificed more than I ever had in order for my little Eli to make it here. I really wouldn't have done it any other way, and I will choose this way again, when, in the far off future, we decide to have another little person come join our family. It was such a special moment, and I got to share it with my husband. It was small and minimalist in the amount of people around. It felt personal. I felt comfortable. I knew where things were. I got to make the decisions. Most importantly, my little guy came into the world happy and healthy and he got to sleep in my arms in my bed for his first night in this world. It was very special.

Of course I woke up sore the next morning. My body, though, has healed so quickly. The point I am at right now, a week and a half later, feels like the way I felt several months down the road after I had Shiloh. It is one of the many reasons that I would choose to do things the same way again, because my body knows how to heal from this experience on its own. I know that the way I did things is not for everybody, but it was for me. That is the very long version of Eli's birth story. If you got to the end, you must be a mother and like to read about these sorts of things because it reminds you of your own experiences. Hhopefully one day Eli will be able to read the way I felt about him coming into our family and feel loved.