My god. I'm sore. That was one long cookie receipe that took 9 months to ferment. And after everything kicking in on the Wednesday afternoon, mini-hd was finally born on Saturday morning after many drugs, much pain and almost ripping the head of the last consultant who suggested that I give another four hours a try on top of 50+ odd hours I had already partook in. In fact, had it not been for the fact that I was immobolised and had an epidural in my back, I would have found the nearest hard sharp object and heaved it at his head. Thank god the senior midwife recignised me from her shift two days previous and called in the boss...

I suppose that I should now refer to mini-hd by her real name, Erika. It seems bizarre referring to baby bump as a real person with name as for a long time, she was in effect a mass of wriggles in the belly that generally kicked off around 10 at night.

A habit she has continued...

Erika finally made an appearance out of the sun roof, however without the tummy tuck or the zip that had been requested. And despite the worries and trepdiation of surgery, it has to be said that should you ever be worried about something monumental that you just can't get out of, it surely helps to have Dr McKnockOut as your anthesistist.

Believe me ladies, the eye candy helps.

Having drooled through of the surgery whilst attempting to hide it from Girlpants, it all just seems all unreal, especially as I was discharged after two days with my world hospital goods in sainsburys carrier bags at the effects of the the Christmas parties 2007 was felt in the September baby rush and clamour for beds.

The difference is the sleep or lack of. The smells. The baby vom. But my goodness, she is cute. And despite bits of me still aching and not managing to catch up on the lack of sleep from labour, how can you begrudge it all when you see my little monkey child...?

Butter wouldn't melt...