What kind of birthday present is this? As life struggles to return to some level of normality, I’m left with so many questions.The kind of questions that you can’t easily answer when you are as close to exhausted as you have ever been.

We escaped hospital on Saturday. Hospitals are not places to enjoy at the best of times, but when you are super protective of a new life, and have not slept in a week, they are some kind of pseudo-sterile hell. Loolie had had enough, and they were forced to oblige.

So now we are at home, working out how to deal with poo. Loolie has to also get used to the feeding part, but I am mainly on poo duty. He is so delicate, seems so fragile, that you have to keep reminding yourself to breathe. We are slowly getting the hang of it, but there is a long road ahead.

So far sleep has been OK. Wrap him up tightly and fill his tummy, and he’s happy. He is sometimes awake, but can lie there for hours pushing against host swaddling and staring into space.

We’re happy. Tired (I think I mentioned that), but happy. But, I am just ignoring the mountain of dirty dishes.