As I remarked before, childbirth really takes it out of me. After a night of tossing and turning and worrying (You know me, worst case scenarios every time), this morning I went next door to turn off the security lights and service the cats. An empty house can be quite melancholy, even with cats in it peeing on the furniture.
And then, blessed moment, as I was back at my breakfast bar ingesting fibre-laden beans, the phone rang. Proud father Andy telling me mother and baby are fine and will probably be back this evening. Thank God.
Andy also said something about "getting home and back to normal." Normal? This is his first baby. "Normal" don't come into it, bro. Well, he can find out about sleep deprivation in his own good time.
As for me, I will send the usual congratulations and presents, but I will also try to get out and do some birding for the next few days, anything to stave off postnatal depression.
I'm not sure I can cope with another pregnancy.