Well, after all the waiting I can hardly believe it but Little P, Mrs C and myself have all made it through a complete week!

In many way’s it’s flown by and in some others it’s dragged like hell. The night he was born was so very long, despite being born at 9:42 I didn’t get home until 1:30 and was then too excited to sleep. His first night at home was also a pretty long one but we survived.

We are all settling in to a (sort of) routine; feeding, sleeping, nappy changing, feeding… etc. We’ve got used to it quite quickly. I heard again today someone say “The first 6 weeks are the worst”, well, either we’ve been very lucky so far or something changes dramatically at 6 weeks (sleeping through the night maybe?) but apart from that first night, it hasn’t been too bad (is that tempting fate a little too much?).

We have that new parent anxiety, of course. We phoned up the hospital to ask if Little P’s stump should be so smelly, and panicked when he slept for most of yesterday (”His arms and legs are just so limp!”) but we’re slowly getting used to his behaviour and the associated noises.

But… it has only been a week and I’m not counting my chickens, more keeping my fingers crossed that the following weeks will be the same.