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March 02, 2006

E-yai

This morning, as I was nursing Eli, Gus looks at Eli and asks, "Whatcha doin', E-yai?"

I want to bottle up the way Gus pronounces Eli and capture the utter sweetness of it forever. I want to always remember how it feels to see this precious two-year old take such pleasure in looking at and touching his baby brother, so pure is the moment.

We're on our second day at home as a family, and I have to say sleep has done everyone some good. Gus is keeping up his routine with daycare, Eli is doing all of the requisite eating, sleeping, and pooping, and John and I are taking it easy. Part of me is ready to just get up and go, but then my body reminds me of the 8-pound baby I just delivered and I sit my tush down...ever-so-gently.

So. The story.

John and I had spent a lot of emotional energy the past month wondering when Eli was coming. We were always worried about Gus and where we would be when labor began. With all that preparation and worry behind us, it really was a treat to casually walk in to the hospital, grab John a cup of coffee, and slowly make our way up to labor and delivery.

After the paperwork was complete, we settled into our room. I was put on a monitor to detect contractions and to monitor the baby. I think I had one contraction. Apparently my body just decided to stop having them, which was strange considering I had been having them for months. They started the pitocin around 11:30 in order to start the contractions up again, and it only took my body five minutes to remember what to do.

This is the point where I need to say how much I Iove John. The man had me laughing during some of the worst contractions. Belly-shaking laughing, so much so that when the monitor was capturing contractions, which typically look like one smooth hill, the laughing was making some pretty rough terrain. As the contractions increased in intensity, I went into what I call my "wounded dog" routine...you know, the one where the hurt dog hides under the porch and wants to be left alone. I became quiet, closed my eyes, and just worked through it. I could tell that John wanted to do something for me, so between contractions I told him I knew he wanted to touch me, but it was ok to not touch me because he should not touch me. Total wounded dog.

As the pitocin levels increased, so did the contractions, getting up to every two minutes. I could still talk and laugh a bit around 3:15, when my friend Maddie called me. I, being me, answered. Yes, I answered my cell phone in the midst of labor, and Maddie rightly called me crazy. At the end of our conversation, I suddenly declared, "My water just broke!" Both Maddie and John didn't seem to believe me, and I had to repeat myself. I hung up the phone at that point, honest. (Did I mention that I was sending email updates to my Mom, who was waiting at our house up to this point?)

We were off to the races.

Around four, things were intense. The nurse asked if I wanted an epidural or some pain meds in my IV to, and I quote, "take the edge off." I like edges being taken off, so I voted for the latter. For good reason, too... I mean, nothing about this pregnancy seemed to mirror my first, so who was to know if I was going to be in labor for 15 more hours? At that point, I was about as far away from delivery as physically possible... Eli was still way up, no where near the exit, I was only 4 cm dialated and still had to efface 30 percent. Those stats scared me. Take the edge off, please.

It wasn't until AFTER the nurse injected the meds that I found out it was a narcotic. Oh, and you might feel dizzy. Oh, and the pain doesn't totally go away.

It wasn't until AFTER the medicine took hold that I found out that the dizziness stays, that the pain doesn't go away at all, but most importantly, you don't care about the pain because you're hallucinating.

Yes. Hallucinations are part of your birth story, Eli. Sorry.

I was trying to vocalize what I was seeing to John, but I wasn't able to do it justice.

"It's like a cartoon," I said.
"It's animated."
"It's perfect." (I do remember that...not in like 'la la perfect', but all the patterns I was seeing were perfect, or better yet, exact... why am I trying to describe this?)

And between each patterned episode came the contractions. A minute apart. Fully felt but I was in 'perfect' land.

And an hour after getting this drug, an hour after hearing the not-so-great status report, with three pushes, we had Eli.

And I was still in 'perfect' land.

It's probably for the best. I think I would have freaked out at how quickly that last hour went, and when all was said and done, we had Eli, in all of his 8 lb 2 oz glory. Holding him quickly brought me back to reality.

It's really shocking how much he looks like Gus at first glance, but with closer inspection we can see the differences...the dimpled chin, his lips seem a bit different, the cheeks different, too. We keep saying how familiar he seems. Gus seems to feel the same way. He hasn't asked us to take Eli away.

So, E-yai, we are so, so, happy you are here and can't wait for everyone to meet you.

I guess it's time to update the blog header to 'Life with Gustav and Elias'. I love it.

Posted by janna at March 2, 2006 08:50 PM

Comments

Posted by: Aunt Deb at March 3, 2006 05:49 AM

Posted by: Aunt Deb at March 3, 2006 05:49 AM

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