Elena's Birth Story

Elena, born 8/27/97 at about 42 weeks
Diana - Elena's Mother
Mark - Elena's Father
Adam - My boyfriend
Dr Sands - Craptastic OB
Shelly - My Personal Assistant (how LA?!) and friend
Kathy - Masseuse and doula
(Shelly and Kathy aren't really in the birth story, because I have no specific memories of them, but I know they were there and supportive of me, so I noted their presence.)

Though the experience of the adoption was a wonderful, though difficult, one, I call that birth a McBirth. I realize I bear alot of responsibility in that. I was so focused on the adoption, I saw the birth as a means to an end and didn't connect with it much, emotionally. This might've been necessary for me to get through it. The adoption was alot and maybe all I could handle at one time. Still, the way all this went down probably has alot to do with who I am today. Birth is like that, though.

My first EDD was 7/27/97. I told them they were off by a month. So, I guess I knew, despite not keeping track of anything. It was maybe 5 months before I went to Los Angeles, CA the first time and we met Dr. Sand, who was recommended by the adoption lawyer. (He did stop recommending him after our birth experience, btw.) Mostly, it was just that I hadn't had much prenatal care, which I felt really guilty about and now I think is pretty funny! So we just went with him. He was a fairly traditional OB. I moved out to LA maybe a month later. Diana did try to help be become more educated about birth, even hired a Bradley coach to see us a couple of times, as there wasn't enough time to take a whole course. She hired me a masseuse who was lovely and who basically acted as my doula. She also supported my choices to get things like an epidural. She was really remarkable in her support. I didn't know any of the risks of epidurals...or of anything. Yes, I read What to Expect...and that was about it! We did make a birthplan, with things like a heplock, no episiotomy, really not alot! I learned a bit lesson from that birth. Never, ever just ask an OB a question like, "Are you okay with only doing an episiotomy in an emergency situation?" They'll always say yes! Ask them what constitutes an emergency. Even better, ask them what percentage or their patients get episiotomies. It's an important distinction. *sigh* So, Dr. Sands agreed to all of our meager birth plan, but what we didn't realize was that he ALWAYS thought of birth as an emergency.

My due date had been changed to Mid-August, due to the results of the ultrasound. That was better. Still, I waved as my due date passed me. Around 41 weeks, under threats of induction, I drank an entire bottle of castor oil. DO NOT EVER do this! Don't take that stuff at all, but definitely not the whole bottle! This was the last time in my adult life I threw up. I had it coming out of both ends for hours and hours. I had contractions. This all eventually stopped and I was still pregnant. Maybe not quite a week later, we consented to the induction. I think we all believed him that 42+weeks equals dangerous. I know I did. I was also unaware of the dangerous associated with inductions and wasn't exactly looking for a natural birth, anyway.

I was admitted to the hospital at midnight and given a room. Diana stayed with me all night. It started with cervadil. I suspect now I would've gone into labor in a matter of days, if left alone, because after they inserted the cervadil that I was unable to lay down, walking my room with the contractions. I think I slept for a bit, I'm unclear on how long, but the contractions were strong enough to wake me up while it was still night. I know now I could've refused the pitocin and probably labored with only a cervadil induction. I didn't then. I wasn't even entirely convinced it was labor. So, the hours went by and sometime early in the morning, they hooked me up to an IV and gave me pitocin. Dr. Sands had told me that in a small amount of women (like 2%), pitocin caused titanic contractions. 74.2% of statistics are made up, right;). I've talked to very few women who haven't had crazy, hard contractions with pitocin. Well, I did. They barely seemed to stop. Still, I managed pretty well.

I remember saying to Diana, once, "I can handle this if they'd just leave me alone? I just want to be left alone!" I remember that now and it seems almost prophetic. It never occurred to me that UC was an option, but I think it's what I wanted, even then. I didn't resent the presence of the people I cared about. I wanted and needed them there, emotionally, but I hated the needles, monitors, nurses who told me I was scaring other patients if I made noise. DRs who yelled. The smell of the hospital. I hated all of it.

The majority of the labor, after the pitocin, is a blur. My memory is truly awful, so maybe that's why? Maybe it was the pit? The epidural? I have no idea. Diana and I have talked about it, as she remembers alot more. She feels so guilty for my labor experience. My feelings about the labor definitely resonate with her details. She said they yelled at me alot. The OB was barely present and when he was, he was not very nice. I do remember being condescended to several times. Apparently because I was young and a birth mom, that also meant I was dumb. It got so bad that she was actually on her cell trying to find another OB to deliver me when it became clear I was asking to push and there was no more time. I've told her many times I bear her no ill will and the only good parts of that birth were due to her, but I love her for caring so much.

It's a real shame we don't discuss birth more often. I didn't know the labor pattern of the women in my family. Apparently, we all go to 3 or 4 centimeters at a normal pace and then from there to 10 in less than an hour. We've all shocked the hell out of DRs! So, Mark realized he'd left his camera at home. They told us it would be hours yet. Yeah, it wasn't. Diana called him frantically and he was rushing back! I remember telling a nurse that I needed to push. I was laying in bed from the epidural, kinda sleeping on and off. Adam's plane had arrived and he was at my side. Diana wasn't in the room. I realize now she was likely on her cell. Anyway, I told the nurse I needed to push. She brushed me off. Diana heard the exchange and came to the door. I heard them talking...over there. Almost in another universe, but I heard enough to be grateful to Diana. The nurse said something about me not knowing what it should feel like, too soon, just being delicate. Diana said, firmly and authoritatively, "That girl has never seen a delicate day in her life. If she says she needs to push, you're going to take her seriously." So, yeah, from 3 or 4 to 10 in 45 minutes. Everyone was shocked.

I remember Mark made it back just in time. I remember that Dr. Sands blew in to deliver and was generally an asshat. He'd just finished another birth, I found out later. I remember pushing for maybe 10 to 15 minutes. Then, I remember seeing or hearing him go to cut me. It was one of those awful, frozen, slow motion things. I was on a table, my legs splayed. My baby was coming out of my and I couldn't reach to stop him. Diana reports much the same thing. She said she really thought about punching him, but would that have been better for me or for Elena? It was a fairly awful moment. I didn't really examine it until much later, though, because there was E.

(Side note: It's my recollection she was born at 2:59, but I've always counted that labor as 6 or 7 hours. I realize now that's a bit...odd, because I was in early labor on the cervadil at 1 am. Maybe I counted from when hard labor started? I have no idea.)

She was small and squirmy and hard dark hair like mine...which later fell out to be lighter like Bri's, but that's another thing;). When I told Rebecca and Aislinn this next part, I cried and cried. I don't talk about it alot, but when I remember the day she was born, I remember this, first. As they lifted her from me, I reached out my right hand. I remember exactly how it looked and how she looked. I remember mentally thinking, "No! That's not right. She's not mine." and withdrawing my hand in guilt. But that moment, that reflex, that's what adoption is like. That's how hard it is.

I wasn't the first to hold her, by my choice. Well, the medical people first, in true McBirth form, but I'd told Diana and Mark they were to hold her first and as long as they wanted. I worked very hard on pounding not mine into my head. I knew that I was not in a place to be a good mother and I was determined to do this, however hard it was. I never allowed myself to waiver, honestly. I think I was sorta uniquely built to do this, well, given my childhood experiences and my ability to shut off part of myself and my feelings. It made it easier at the time.

The hour after she was born was perfect. I remember us all still being in the birthing room, with the staff actually leaving us alone! We all took turns holding her and talking. It felt like the ideal transitional space. Mark and Diana had arranged for a room at the hospital. Diana had been pumping for months to build a supply of breastmilk and had a significant amount of donor milk. They were very committed to AP and big role models for me when I had Declan. They rocked:)

After that, I stayed in LA a little over a week. I stayed that long to tie up loose ends. The way the law worked, at that time, was that if I signed nothing else, I had 90 days to change my mind. Or I could sign some paperwork a week after the birth and give up my rights entirely. I stayed to do that. I needed to do it, to close that door. I didn't want to leave them worrying. I was sad to leave LA. It was beautiful and perfect and my favorite climate, ever. I had few attachments and briefly considered staying out there. If not for the adoption, I would have, but we all needed the distance. I needed it to be real and to leave her. It was the best thing.

I visited them twice during the week before I left. I held her and loved her, but never too much, never too close. I kept my control. Still, I went to my apartment every night and cried myself to sleep, holding a teddy bear that was a gift from Mark and Diana. After a few weeks, it stopped being every night, but I still cried every Wednesday night. After a few months, I mostly cried on the 27th of every month. Now, I mostly cry on her birthday and at times like this, when I think about it...and it's mostly good tears.


The adoption was an always has been open. We consider ourselves to be family. It's definitely a work in progress and sometimes it's hard to know what's right, but I think it's definitely healthier for everyone. Declan's always known about Elena, which I think is lucky for us. As she was firstborn, we've just always had a picture of her around. When he was 1 and he'd point to it, we'd just say, "That's your sister, Elena." adding more information as he got older and more curious. I know one of the hardest parts for Diana has been talking to Elena about her siblings. Elena wants them badly and Diana has no way to give them to her. She and Mark have been divorced for a few years, but both still very good and involved parents. Adoption's expensive and Diana can't have biological children. I hate it that it's hard on them, but I guess everything has hard parts, doesn't it? I've never regretted the decision.

My mother said to me, after the adoption, that our children are never ours. She said it's a mistake to think they are. We're given them, by God, in stewardship, for a brief period of time. It's our task to do the best we can to help them grow into who they are during that remarkably brief period of time and then be able to let them go. I remember thinking that a Mother's job was to do what's best for her children, no matter how hard it is.