There are cheers and tears, and Mommy says to Robin, “I can’t believe you’re here!” “I can’t believe how much I love you” “Mommy loves you!” Nonni is holding back tears and saying how Mommy has “waited so long” for him. It is an especially poignant moment as I reflect on the miscarriage and grief that came before Robin’s conception.
Robin is a solid 8lbs 9 oz and 21” long.
Mommy is beside herself with joy. Robin latches on and begins breastfeeding. Her mother and sister leave around 12:30pm. I decide to stay until just after 1pm (when the cafeteria opens) so Daddy can grab some food for both of them.
During the next portion of my birth experience I was in a lot of pain and to my memory on semi-conscious so I am especially grateful for Katrina’s documentation of events.
Mommy’s bleeding is heavy- and she’s passing a lot of clots. She is given pitocin. The nurses are still concerned, and the resident performs two “sweeps” for clots. She is very pale and nauseated. The bleeding is still heavy, Mommy is given more IV pitocin and a shot as well. Her doctor is called back.
Mommy is getting very upset, because the doctors and nurses are discussing possible surgery (d&e) to check for remaining clots or possible retained placenta. Two ultrasounds are performed. Mommy asks me to call her parents for prayer. I call around 2am and ask her father to pray. About 3 minutes later, the bleeding has all but stopped, and the nurses credit the medicine (I credit GOD!)
The doctor does one final sweep (unfortunately, for this one, the effects of the epidural have worn off, and Mommy is in excruciating pain). All I can do is hold her face in my hands and try to comfort her, whispering prayers. Daddy holds her hand. As Mommy is writhing from the exam/sweep, I catch Daddy’s eye and almost break down myself.
After what seems like an eternity, the doctor is finished. He is confident that Mommy is ok and surgery will not be necessary.
Mommy is very weak, but relieved. I stay for another ½ hour as she and Daddy get settled. I leave the hospital around 3am.
After Katrina left, I drifted in and out of consciousness. I miss my baby but I am grateful that he is in the nursery since I can’t care for him at the moment. My husband shows me some pictures and video from the labor and delivery. I feel so weak I can barely lift my arms and the drugs that helped stop the bleeding are causing nausea and gastrointestinal upsets. (Because labor isn’t humiliating enough, right?) After another hour I am finally moved out of labor and delivery and up to the mother baby unit. I finally see my son again. I feel so worn out, worse than after the delivery of my daughter. I thought second deliveries were supposed to be easier. I finally am allowed some juice and then eventually some crackers. My first real meal isn’t until nearly 10 a.m. on March 20th. I was so sure that I was going to have a leap year baby, but instead my own little Robin arrived the day before spring.
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