I also started to cry. I was so happy that everything was going smoothly and that he was finally here.
TP left me to be with Reid who was still crying and I could hear him and the nurses comment on how beautiful they thought he was, how he had a head full of hair, and how big he was. The man standing over my shoulder asked me how much I thought Reid weighed and I told him I thought he had to be at least 8 pounds. I then remembered a conversation with my co-worker where I expressed my concern that Reid would be small, like around 7 pounds. I wanted, from the beginning of this pregnancy, a large 9 pound baby (like Bean) but wasn't sure if I'd be getting one. Carrying Reid around in my belly wasn't difficult and honestly I felt lighter than I did when Bean's pregnancy.
The nurses debated over his weight. One nurse thought he had to be 10 pounds and the other thought he was more around 9. I couldn't really hear them announce the weight of Reid because my doctors were telling me a joke and I was in the middle of responding.
"9 pounds, 7 ounces...He would have been 10 if he didn't pee so much" is what they told me as they handed my neatly wrapped bundle. I was so happy to have a big healthy baby and before I knew it we were both wheeled out of the operation room and back to triage.
There I was given medicine to help with nausea. But the medicine didn't work or maybe it made it worse because I held Reid for maybe 10 minutes before I started to throw up. Since my stomach was empty I threw up spit and bright green bile. I held a blue plastic bag to my face, throwing up constantly, but I was still so happy.
Through all of the hot flashes, the constant sweating, the throwing up and not being able to hold Reid for fear I'd throw up on him..I was still happy. I watched TP hold and snuggle him as I was examined and monitored. The nurses buzzed around me, trying to figure out why I was feeling so poorly and offering me more medication.
I had to get really bitchy with one nurse and I held up my hand in protest and said, "NO MORE MEDICATION! Thank you!" and she looked at me like I was some idiot but I didn't care. I wasn't feeling well (throwing up and dry heaving) and I just wanted to be left alone.
After my stay in the triage we were wheeled into our room where I continued to throw up, sweat, and feel like a car ran over me until about 9:30 at night (12 hours of non stop throwing up and extreme hot flashes).
I spent the rest of the night holding Reid and kissing his little face.
Some people may think because of how sick I was after having Reid, my experience wasn't the greatest.
But I don't feel that way.
I feel like I wouldn't change a thing because being sick reminded me that women give so much of themselves for their children. Which makes me feel strong, womanly, and majestic.
To sum it up..I'd do it all again.
-M