Am v. pleased to be home. There were lots of lovely midwives, and some annoying ones too, at the hospital but there's nothing like your own bed and freedom to work to your own (collective) rhythm. On the other hand it was nice having my meals cooked and clean linen constantly available.

Hugh and Jo came to visit this evening when we were feeling very frustrated at the hospital. There didn't seem to be any reason for still being there other than the poor midwives were so overstretched they couldn't fit in the "check out" procedure. So it looked like Ed was going to have another night of his "bachelor lifestyle" (seems to involve food you don't have to spend any time preparing). Then suddenly, a new widwife came on shift, saw that we were getting stroppy, and managed to conjour up a double quick discharge. I was so pleased I nearly gave her our bottle of champage. Only reason we kept it was she refused.

Once home we had coronation chicken Hugh had thoughtfully prepared - yum - and then H & J thoughtfully departed while we occupied ourselves with putting the little one down. I'm now blogging one handed with He Who Shall Be Named in t'other hand.