Meanwhile, here are the details: Baby Jim-Jams (his stage name, y’all) was 8 lbs, 8 oz — a mere slip of a boy compared to his older sisters, who both right at 10 lbs each. He is the Best Baby Ever ™, eating and sleeping like a champ, although he loves his 2am Happy Hour. I’m lazily working on spreading out his night feedings. And meanwhile, I cannot get enough of him — it’s all I can do not to gobble him up every hour or so.

What’s a huge relief: no more throwing up. No more pelvic pressure — he was breech, lying transverse, and I could barely walk from the sofa to the sink. And no more antepartum depression! (so far, at least)