The Birth Story Series: Nicki Dadic : Birth by Elective Cesarean: Luca Jack

This next birth story comes from Nicki, one of my favorite South African bloggers / people, and the mother of two gorgeous boys, Luca Jack and Mika Alex. Nicki is a sweet, kind and ambitious gal. She's also just started her own little social media agency in Joburg, so be sure to give her a ring. They're a very good-hearted and gorgeous little family, and you'll feel it all over this birth story. Enjoy!   

"Before I get into the details of Luca’s birth, let me get this out of the way.

I chose to have an elective cesarean section for my first child’s birth. I chose, again, to have an elective cesarean section with my second son, Mika, even though I probably could have opted for a VBAC.

Whilst I have the utmost respect for women who birth their children naturally, and I do believe that it is a natural process, I don’t think there is any experience in the world that could have brought me any closer to my two boys. Not if I’d laid eggs and they’d hatched out of them. Not if I’d adopted them. Not if I’d pushed them down my birth canal, naturally. I believe that every mother, regardless of what kind of birth was chosen or what process she went through to 'have' her child (and I include adoption in that long list of 'processes') has an unbreakable and undeniably incredible bond with her children.

We’d planned the birth of our first son, Luca Jack, down to the last detail. From the Sunday lunch with the family the day before, to the outfits he’d wear after he arrived into the world. I think most moms do, and it really is just the most incredible time. When I think back to that morning, almost 4 years ago, I smile and my heart beats a little faster …

                       

On Monday, 25 May 2009 I drove my brand new purple Honda Jazz to the hospital. I insisted on driving as I’d only just got my new wheels and a friend had asked to borrow her until I was meant to start driving, after my 6 week post- cesarean section check-up. I drove Dave mad, by taking a long, scenic drive but still managed to get to the hospital early enough for the two of us to get REALLY nervous as we sat, with nothing to do but think about how much our lives were going to change that day.  

Eventually a nurse called us into our small private room in the maternity ward, where I got changed into one of those horribly revealing green hospital gowns. My belly was so big that I struggled to get the ties done up at the back and resorted to either sitting on the bed or standing with my back to a wall. I think that we were late – well, the doctor was late – and we’d told all our family and friends that our boy would have been be born by a certain time, so Dave had to field calls while we waited to let everyone know that we were still just Dave and Nicki … no baby yet … NO PRESSURE!

I peed in a cup and had a drip done in my left arm before I was wheeled out of the room and into pre-op, where Dave was called out to get dress into his surgical scrubs and booties. A couple of minutes later, Dave came back in and I could see how nervous he was … all jumpy and ever so teary-eyed. We both, at that moment, thought about our late moms and hoped that wherever they were, that they knew that the most amazing moment of our lives was literally minutes away.

After blowing my nose on some nasty one-ply, I kissed Dave for a quick goodbye as I was wheeled into theatre for prep … not something we were expecting as our pre-natal teacher had shown us those videos. How I would hold onto Dave for support as my spinal block was administered. Instead, I embraced a cold hospital pillow as the anesthetist started marking my spine. After he warned me that I would soon feel a few small pricks, he began injecting the local anesthetic to numb my body before the long spinal block needle was inserted in between two vertebrae. I can’t say that it was even slightly painful and, in fact, I kinda love the feeling of a spinal block! I was laid down on my side as my legs began to go numb … it felt like I was slowly being lowered: toes, calves, knees, thighs, bum and them tummy, into a gorgeously hot bath.

All in all, despite my husband being MIA, I was really chilled. That was, until a cute, tattooed (male) nurse arrived to … ahem, insert my catheter. I was mortified … but little did I know that was only the beginning of the loss of my dignity!

(Side note: two kids, two egg donations and a cervical scrape later, I’m really not worried about who looks at my bits anymore. In a medical way, OF COURSE!)

Soon all of the pre-op preparation was complete. But where the hell was Dave? Just as I had come to terms with the fact that he’d passed clean out from nerves or had decided “HOLY SHIT, I’M OUTTA HERE!”, I looked to my left and in he shuffled, like a deer in the headlights, completely high on Redbull. His eyes were wide and he was shaking like a leaf and it made me love him so much more than I ever thought I could. He sat down on a chair at my left shoulder and made rookie mistake #1: he looked up and over the (VERY SMALL) dignity sheet and almost instantly all the colour drained from his cheeks. “Look at me”, I whispered to him, trying to be brave for both of us but the tears rolling down my cheeks gave me away. The truth is that I could 'feel' them cutting, pushing my numb lower half from side-to-side. It was beyond unnerving and I felt like my body belonged to someone else. The doctors and nurses chatted away happily, making it feel even more like a tripped out episode of The Twilight Zone.

I suddenly felt a lot more pressure and I looked up at Dave, who was dutifully staring only INTO my eyes and said, “He’s coming, he’s coming” … and at almost exactly the same moment, the surgeon said, “He’s coming!”

Dave looked up again and I felt a huge release of pressure … he’s here. It was quiet. Shouldn’t we hear that first gasp of air and a loud, unimpressed squeal?  

I heard a suctioning noise, a tiny little cough and the surgeon announced “He’s here, where’s your camera?” and Dave stood up, risking seeing my insides on the outside again, and took the most breathtaking photographs of Luca’s first seconds outside of my body. 

Tears rolled down my face and my heartbeat raced out of control. I still hadn’t actually seen him yet as the doctors walked him over to a table to my right and the pediatrician called Dave over to help with the cutting of the long umbilical cord that was still attached to the tiny little body.  Dave shouted, “He has hair!” and all I could see was the most enormously happy grin on his totally overwhelmed, new daddy face.

A nurse lifted my left arm from under the sheet that covered me and placed my baby boy onto my chest. Luca, swaddled in a blue blanket, opened his dark eyes and looked into mine, overflowing with tears that I’d never cried before. Tears that only a mother can cry. He knew, right then, who I was and I knew him, at that moment, like I’d known him for a hundred years before.

Read Mika Alex’s birth story – also a c-section, but so very different!"