Born yesterday, August 4, the first cool, rainy day here in weeks, after 10 hours of labor and 10 minutes of pushing. She is healthy and strong and doing great. She weighs 9 pounds, 2 ounces, exactly the same as Ingrid weighed. She has a spectacular face and longish gold-brown hair. She seems to be an awesome nurser and (even better) loves to suck on her hand.
We'll likely go home from the hospital tomorrow, barring any jaundice issues. The grandmas brought Ingrid here for a visit this morning and she was utterly interested and sweet: She touched her hand and said Iris has a pinky finger just like Ingrid's. She kissed her on the tummy and said I love Iris.
And time will tell, but for now I'm shocked at the extent to which I feel like I sort of know what I'm doing. I mean, I can nurse and eat pizza at the same time! And in general both my butt and my nerves are feeling far less raw than in the hours after Ingrid was born. We just passed Iris's 24-hour birthday, and it made me a little weepy. To be expected, I'm sure.
Thanks for all your good wishes for this baby's arrival. Things are sweet for now.