Eli's Birth

Our son, Eli Hecker Genisio, was born at 5:04 AM on Saturday, August 7, 2010. At birth, he weighed in at 8 lbs, 6.7 oz, and was 21.25 inches long. These are the numbers and stats assigned to what is clearly a deeply emotional experience, and listing the numbers feels like a simple way to try to pry open the story of Eli's arrival.

I began having contractions during the day on Wednesday, August 4. At about 2:00 AM on Thursday morning (August 5) things had really intensified to a point that Brian and I called Joanna in the middle of the night because we thought that perhaps labor had begun (sorry, Jo!). At that point, I knew that I wasn't yet even 1 cm dilated (based on my last appt. with my midwife), so I knew that any contractions would be a good and helpful thing. I had difficulty sleeping through them and frequently had to move and stand up as the contractions came, and so began lousy night of sleep #1. The contractions didn't progress or turn into true labor, but they were certainly painful and tough to manage.

On Thursday morning at around 9:00, Nana and Papa came to Ann Arbor to pick up Maia and take her home for "Nana and Papa Camp" in East Lansing, for a length of time TBD. This was extremely helpful due to the intermittent contractions that came and went yet again through the whole day; I wouldn't have been very useful to her in terms of being able to provide entertainment and patience. I tried to get out-and-about a bit, but it was tough: every time I stood up--contraction. Stop. Change breathing. Every time I sat down--contraction. Repeat process. You get the idea.

Repeat this whole thing again on Thursday night into Friday morning and day, and you can probably start to guess that avoiding exhaustion was becoming a dominant theme in my life. I had a brief, shining couple of hours on Friday when I thought things had lifted and cleared, but it didn't last long. By Friday at around 5:00, I was starting to engage Joanna and Brian (and soon my doula, Stephanie, via the phone) in a discussion of using "therapeutic rest" as a tactic; the midwives had offered this as an option, and it basically entails checking-in to the hospital for a big dose of morphine, with the goal of major relief from contractions and, most importantly, a long stretch of real sleep. When I called the hospital to ask some questions about this option, though, I learned that they were currently nearly full, and would rather not use a room for this purpose unless it was absolutely necessary. Essentially, if I decided at midnight that I needed it, I could have it, but they'd prefer to try something at home first.

That "something" was Ambien, a sleep medication that did its job of putting me in a deep state of sleep, but did not alleviate contraction pain. Starting at about 8 PM on Friday night, I would sleep for 10-15 minutes and wake up extremely disoriented and confused with the arrival of a contraction. Brian and Joanna would help me figure out what was going on and what to do, and then they'd help me back to sleep immediately. What a challenging labor support task! This continued until around 10 PM, at which point something very unexpected happened: my body acknowledged that labor had begun, and the effects of the Ambien (supposed to last around 8-10 hours) were simply eliminated from my system almost instantaneously, after only about 2 hours.

Joanna, Brian and I worked together through the labor at home for quite a while, and we called Stephanie in to help at around midnight on Saturday. At 1:00 AM, it was time to learn the following: was this really labor? If not, I needed the rest and the morphine. If so, well, awesome! We all arrived in L&D Triage at about 1:30, at which point I learned that I was 6 cm dilated and without a doubt in full-blown active labor!

We moved down the hall to the labor room (Bed #12--Maia was born in Room 12 at a different hospital, a cool coincidence) very quickly, and, honestly, as most women at this point in labor would tell you, I don't remember many specifics. I know I had the monitors on my belly for a while, and then they took them off. I know I labored in my own clothes. I know that they didn't place an IV. I know I spent some time laboring in the shower at the hospital, too, just like I had at home. All of these things were word-for-word what I had asked and hoped for in my birth "plan"--it was all coming true! Brian, Stephanie, Joanna, and Chyrisha (who was "shadowing" Stephanie in her doula work, but whom I know was an active participant) were extraordinary; I honestly can't say whose set of hands were massaging my back, whose were bringing me water, whose were touching my face or cooling my neck with washcloths ... but they were all amazing, all just what I needed, all without asking. I have flashes of memories of sentences they spoke and things they did ... Joanna's lavender oil, reaching for Stephanie's hand and having it be right there ... amazing gifts they all gave me, most of which I'll keep private and quiet in my mind rather than recording them here.

I soon began to feel what's called the "urge" to push, but I liken it to your lungs' "urge" to breathe or your heart's "urge" to beat. It's involuntary. Unfortunately, I began to feel it at 6 cm dilated, which is not a time when pushing should happen. It felt like the whole room's purpose shifted to finding a way to help me not push--that was the focus, and it went on for a couple of hours. I can say with all honesty that this was the most difficult physical undertaking of my life, and perhaps also the most mentally difficult experience of my life, too. (I'm crying a little bit now as I think about it--it was so profoundly hard.) The only way I got through it was with the support of the people around me ... that's the only way it was possible. At 4:35 AM or so, I had what I knew was an important cervical check--at that point, had I still been 6 cm, I would have chosen an epidural with the intent of dulling or eliminating that pushing urge. When she checked me, my midwife said "Do you all mind if I swear? HOLY SHIT, you're 9 1/2 cm!"

At that moment, anything was possible. I knew I needed to get through just a little bit more, a bit longer, without pushing my way through the contractions. It didn't take long--at just around 5:00 AM, the midwife said I was almost completely dilated, and I could begin pushing. Well, the finish line had been reached as far as I was concerned, and once I began pushing, I don't think I really stopped for more than a few seconds. Eli's heart rate began to drop during this time, and it was clear I needed to get my job done (as if there were any doubt!), and so Eli was born four minutes later, at 5:04 AM on Saturday morning.

Eli's shoulders were a tight fit as he was born, and his umbilical cord was looped over one shoulder ... this, combined with the very quick pushing stage might have added up to make for a tough few minutes for him. He was born rather blue, and the pediatricians in the room immediately cut his cord and brought him a couple feet away to the baby warmer. He had some extra oxygen blown into the air around his face, some extra deep suctioning of mucus, and some rubbing on his chest to encourage him to perk up and breathe well. All of this was finished after about seven or eight minutes, and he was already looking quite pink. The hospital staff returned him to my arms for some extended skin-to-skin contact time (and, for a few minutes, skin-to-skin with Brian, too--I thought it was very cool when the hospital staff insisted on that for a short time that I couldn't hold him).

Eli nursed for the first time about 25 minutes after he was born, and he latched-on beautifully and easily right away (and has been nursing like a champ ever since). I immediately felt like I could conquer anything--this amazing labor and birth, with several challenges that I didn't expect, ended up being exactly what I had wanted and hoped for. The only medical intervention I had in the whole labor process was one injection of Pitocin to encourage the birth of Eli's placenta. That's it.

I was up on my feet and taking a shower just a couple of hours after his birth, and we checked-out of the hospital twelve hours later, at around 5:00 PM. There really hasn't been a "recovery" period from this birth, not at all like my previous time through this. I'm taking it easy physically and trying to remind myself to not over-exert my body, but I feel so very strong and free of aches and clear-headed ... it's remarkable.

I'm sitting here today in my same body, approaching my 34th birthday, but in many ways Eli's birth was a rebirth for me and some aspects of my identity. I'm walking through my days now with a quiet feeling of deep, profound power. Life is good.