Despite getting things started a little earlier than the plan called for, I still had to have a little help from my good friend, pitocin, before Eleanor decided to show up around five. And then she had a little help from the vacuum extractor and a L&D nurse jumping on my abdomen to loose a stuck shoulder. Not exactly what I was expecting from a fifth delivery (what happened to having them walk out themselves?), but as in all good stories, all's well that ends well. I have decided that having 8 pound, 2 oz babies is maybe a little too much of a good thing for me.
We came home yesterday to great excitement and Eleanor was immediately mobbed by all of her siblings.
Edwin gave her a truck to play with, Joseph covered her with his blanket, and Kathleen and Sophia finally settled on taking turns holding her individually and then sharing her. Eleanor was non-plussed.
I think that if she survives the love and attention, Eleanor will be a much-adored baby.
I don't think I'm going to make my fortune being a baby photographer.
So far Eleanor has been exhibiting very typical baby behavior, waking up every half hour last night and making sure that Brandon and I can revel in the full glory of newborn-induced sleep deprivation.
But thankfully I've done this four times before and have a very vague memory that eventually I will get a full night's sleep again, even if I'm not sure when that will happen.
But until then, I'll just enjoy having a healthy, normal, lovely baby girl for everyone to love and adore. I guess I can't complain.
