Eli the Wildman turns 4 this weekend. His birth story, if I had to rank them, would be my favorite. It’s not my fave because he was the easiest, or fastest. Oh no. He was my biggest, by over a pound, and he got stuck! I don’t know- it was just memorable from start to finish. I found out I was expecting him when James and I were on our first getaway in 10 years, in St. Thomas. We were about the board the plane and I felt sick to my stomach. I wasn’t even 4 weeks pregnant at the time. Yeah. The morning sickness started at 3.5 weeks with Eli! I had hyperemesis gravidarum with him, and it is impossible to adequately describe what that feels like. If you’ve been through it, you get it. It’s a 24/7 experience- and nothing helps. I had a 2-week reprieve and it felt like a miracle to me. We went to Savannah in the summer of 2014 and I got to enjoy my family and the coast. Upon returning home, the 24/7 sickness returned. There wasn’t one day that I didn’t throw up for the rest of the pregnancy. I remember praying and worrying that he would be small and sickly, because I couldn’t eat well or hold down vitamins. By the end, I was consuming maybe 500 calories a day? And that consisted of sipping Gatorade and half of a banana. My legs and arms were thin, but oh boy, did my belly grow!
I was the biggest I had ever been during a pregnancy, and the weight kept climbing on the scale. It defied science or reason- I ate less and less and got bigger and bigger. Oh Eli, you were Superman from the get-go! He kicked harder than any of the other babies, and I thought of him as a fighter. I was suffering, but he was fighting to thrive. I was sitting in church on Palm Sunday that year, and they read the Passion Gospel. The priest got to the part about when Jesus was crying out from the cross, and the bystanders thought he was calling out to Elijah. It hit me then- that was his name. Elijah the prophet was a tough guy! He was brave and a fighter. My Eli picked his name that day, and it stuck.
The labor and delivery of my fourth child lasted 30 minutes, start to finish. It was kind of like being struck by lightening- it was so powerful and fast! I planned early on with Eli to have a natural childbirth, because if it went quickly I didn’t want to even think about anesthesia or worry about getting it in time. I figured it was just best to count on not having time, and plan accordingly! A week before he was born, I got sick of our carpet upstairs in the kids’ bedrooms, so sick of it that it just HAD to get torn up RIGHT THEN. We HAD to have wood floors because the carpet was FILTHY. In fairness, it did have stains on it from a really bad bout with a stomach bug. I had scrubbed on my hands and knees one too many times and at 9 months pregnant, those brown, shag carpets were toast.
The flooring was finished at 6 pm on a Friday, and Monday morning a cleaning crew came to vacuum all of the dust and debris left behind. We went to Classical Conversations and I brought my big yoga ball to sit on. I don’t actually use it for yoga, it served as a comfortable place to sit during the pregnancies. I’m sure I freaked out a few people that morning! My lower back ached, and I had a gut feeling he was coming that day. I calmly left the kids at CC and drove myself to the ob/gyn’s office. I spoke to a midwife and explained that I was feeling achey, and I thought he was coming that day. Bless that woman’s heart, she believed me and said “Ok Amy, come to the hospital when you are ready. We will admit you and let you have a room to stay in until he comes. There’s no rush.” I went back to my kids’ homeschool group and told them I was having the baby later- there were some cheers, and hugs and I left amid smiles and excitement.
I called James from the car on the way home with the kids, and told him that Eli was coming later that day. I think he said something along the lines of “Oh man, that’s not convenient, I just fixed the work schedule.” In my pregnancy/labor hormone blur I didn’t react well to that, and the rest of the conversation sounded like an exercise in how to NOT communicate with your spouse. When we cleared things up and he understood I wasn’t being induced, I didn’t pick Monday just to thwart his work schedule rotation and that we had a baby boy who wanted to meet us SOON, I was able to take a few deep breaths and spend a few hours with the kids at home. I wasn’t in labor- at all. It was just a feeling, all day. My mom was up here staying with us, and when James got home from work, the excitement was palpable. The kids were jumping around, knowing that something big was happening, but not quite understanding how much life was about to change.
James and I went to the hospital like old pros. He had a trash bag full of my favorite pillows, and I carried a paper grocery bag with supplies for a post-birth meal that we had picked up at Publix. No kidding- we showed up with fried chicken for James. We must have looked like the Beverly Hillbillies to the nurses. I walked up to labor and delivery, and was shown to my room very calmly. We brought our groceries and pillows and linens, and made ourselves at home! I wasn’t having any contractions-none. The nurse came in to introduce herself and we chatted about how the midwife agreed to admit me for the evening, so I could get some sleep. The midwife had said she agreed that Eli would be along later that evening. The midwife came in as we were getting acquainted and said that they needed the room since the floor was filling up. I had to get Pitocin or have my water broken. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen with a drug-free birth! Yikes, they are hard enough already without heaping more fuel onto the fire. I declined, but the midwife was insistent. She needed me to have that baby, asap. Well, I can be insistent too when the occasion calls for it. I told her I would be discharged before I would let anyone touch me. I was so sure that he was coming that night, I was willing to drive across the street and wait at the hotel.
I don’t think that anyone had ever said that before- or since. It sounded like a lot of work for everyone- paperwork, which I know people hate! I wasn’t going to give an inch. Childbirth is tough and I didn’t want anyone messing with me. My babies come fast, and when he decided it was the right time, he’d be there in a timely manner. There was no way I’d labor for 12 hours and I knew that. It was just a little tough to convince everyone else of my certainty! Usually I’m not that inflexible- must have been a little bit of Eli’s personality shining through. I wanted my little guy to choose when he got there- I had my heart set on that, and James was in total agreement. The nurse saw that I got a little upset, when I found out that I was on the “clock.” If I didn’t have progress by 10pm, I would be discharged. It was 9:30pm. The nurse suggested that I go for a short walk, and she would check on me later.
Sweet James held down the fort, with our chicken, fresh fruit, tunes, and pillows! Baha. I went for a walk around L&D. I walked to the window of the nursery where you can see the babies. I prayed. I blocked everything else out, and I spoke from the heart. I told God that I had said that I was ready before, but that I knew I hadn’t been. NOW, in that moment, I was ready. I said “Please Lord, I’m ready now. You can send him.” I walked right back to the room, and sat down on my big, bouncy yoga ball. I rested my head on my chest and felt the first contraction. That was it. The midwife came to kick me out, and James held up his hand to silence the incomers. It was 9:45pm. He told them the contractions were 2-3 minutes apart. I made it under the gun, by 15 minutes. Eli was born around 11pm, I think? You know it all gets blurry there at the end! He came before midnight, on October 6th, just like I said he would. I think I could write 10,000 words on each child’s birth. Eli’s is especially bright in my memory, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I was so prayerful and aware of time that evening? Each minute seems like a freeze frame in my mind when I think back. The moment he was born, the entire room yelled “WHOA!!!!!” in unison. Then I heard, “how big was your biggest baby?!” I told them, and the midwife said “HE’S GOING TO BE THE BIGGEST!!!”. Oh my gosh. I lost track of reality and time after he made an entrance. At that point, I made eye contact with someone in scrubs and demanded pain medication, asap. Laughing as I remember that. Natural birth, medicated recovery!
I felt like I had given birth to a baby elephant. I vaguely heard James screaming excitedly “Amy…learned about this in med school…Mighty Mouse…muscles…protein…disorder…he’s got huge biceps…”. Ok, it’s all really blurry after the meds were delivered! Eli was my biggest baby, by over a pound. He was 9 lbs 7 oz, and he was a week early. His head was in the 99%, and the hardest part of delivery was the fact that he was short! Plenty of babies are heavy, but he was heavy and only like 18.5 inches? At most? So he was a giant ball of muscle with fluffy blonde hair. Oh Eli. He was an exquisitely beautiful newborn, because he looked like a round 3 month old boy. He didn’t end up having that Mighty Mouse disorder thing, but they did run a couple of extra tests. I had been SO sick, so thin, and he was a He-man mini-beast. He looked like a wee body builder.
That night, there aren’t any pictures of me after I delivered my behemoth of a son. There are pictures of him! I was exhausted, and happy. And I have never felt that connected to my body, God and another human being before. I have prayed thousands and thousands of hours over my life, and that is the only time that I could sense an answer immediately. My timing actually matched God’s timing! Realistically, I’m running late or too early for some request or guidance. That night, October 6, 2014, I was 100% certain that my prayer would be answered at the moment that I asked. Eli and I were ready to meet each other, and never once did James flinch when I told him of my certainty. That night, he knew too. Eli- it had to be you, wonderful, beautiful you!