<human>: Give me a shortened version of the text

My son was born yesterday morning at 7:00.  Mother and Baby were and continue to be fine.  They are both blissfully asleep as I type away on my phone in the dark on what has to be the least comfortable couch in the hospital to try and sleep on.

I love the little guy.  I didn't have a cathartic emotional bonding experience when I first was with him yesterday, but I had it today.  They needed some blood from him and I went along to the lab.  I don't know what the device is called, but it looks like a small deli slicer for his foot.  Made a little cut that makes the blood run down into a vial.

Well, he lost his shit.  Not like when they took his temperature up his butt, or pulled him off the mother, or even when they first yanked him out into the world.  That scream made my heart plummet down into my gut.

He wouldn't keep his legs still.  He was kicking and flailing.

I just spent half an hour burping him.  Where was I ... oh yes.

The point is, the need a certain amount of blood on this paper thing otherwise the lab might not have enough to do their thing.  Not enough to do their thing means doing it again later.  So the nurse tells me to hold him down to keep him from flailing.

I can't pinpoint what it was, but as soon as I put my hands on him, the cry changed.  The rational part of me knows he couldn't possibly know wha

Ok, back again.  Had to get him out of the crib.  Mom's feeding him now...
<bot>: held my newborn down while nurse drew blood.  Cries pierced my heart with guilt.  Wept with him on a rocker afterwards.