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My incredible son was born via C-Section and I was there. It was very awesome. She experienced no pain. For a month I did no work so that I could help out. I babied her. I didn't even let her change a diaper for the first 2 weeks. It was an amazing time of bonding between my son and I. She's not a night person so I'd rent movies during the day for viewing late that night. When he woke up, she'd nurse him and then I'd take him downstairs to rock him to sleep. I'd pop in a movie and enjoy the magic. You'll see what I mean by "magic" very soon. There is no other way to describe it.
But back to the C-Section: I was behind a sheet holding her hand when they cut her open, but when it was time to take him out I was allowed to watch. I could see right into her stomach. It was interesting. When they brought him out he started peeing, right into her stomach. They rinsed her out with a lot of water. In the meantime, they'd taken my son a few feet away to begin cleaning him. I was in scrubs the whole time, of course.
As soon as they could I was handed my son and allowed to carry him to the nursery. We passed my mom along the way and I turned him towards her. She later told me about the nice male nurse who gave her a look at her grandson. She almost didn't believe me when I told her it was me in those scrubs.
In the nursery they placed him under a heatlamp. I stood there holding his little hands and talking to him. He was comforted and quiet. He seemed to be staring at me. My family could look through the glass windows to watch.
My ex was recovering in another room for an hour. I got to spend that first hour with him, alone. It was great.
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