Well, the baby finally got around to arriving - a week late. At my last doc appointment before Christmas, I'd made a booking to be induced on the 27th, the first working day after the Christmas public holidays. On the night of the 26th, we decided we should read all the literature they'd sent us home with, which included a long section on the cascade of interventions that can be triggered by an induction.
Not a lot you can do about being presented with a long list of possible negative outcomes when you are reading them 12 hours before you are going to be induced, you might say? (Well ok, we could have cancelled the appointment but then I could have ended up pregnant forever). But no, baby decided induction was not the way to go, and I went into labour at 3am, just in time to have her at 8:30am, completely missing my 9am booking.
For all the relatives and friends out there, it was apparently a "textbook delivery", which didn't make it hurt any less. Baby was 3.49kg (7lb 10oz in the old scale) and 50cm long and has been declared very cute by everyone who has met her. We decided to come home from hospital the next day so we could get stuck back into finishing off the fridge full of leftover Christmas food.
We're currently all getting to know each other. I'm engaging dairy cow mode and she's turning into a little eating and pooping machine. Aisha is away for a little under two weeks, which gives us some time with just baby and cat to placate before the verbose little talker gets back from Grandma's and realises she's been knocked down from her position as center of the universe in this household. The next few months are going to be "interesting"!