Held in captivity by a 5 lb, 6 oz. tyrant

I am still here. Alive, even, if you consider someone who hasn't had more than two hours of sleep in a row in almost a week to be living. I've written a bunch of posts in my head -- good ones, too, though I have no idea at the moment what each one was supposed to be about.

The quick update: Things are proceeding really well. Ess is gaining an ounce a day, and her pediatrician pronounced her perfect in every way yesterday (I may be paraphrasing there). We've quit the supplemental bottle feedings, though we've kept the option open for D to give her a full bottle instead of me nursing her, in the off chance that I might like to, you know, sleep. Due to the nipple shield, I am still pumping seven -- count 'em, seven -- times a day, but at least we're down to two steps per feeding instead of three.

And at my post-op appointment today, my doctor said they'd found no problems with the placenta or the cord that would indicate why I went into pre-term labor (or why Ess' heartrate was decelerating, the event that ultimately caused the c-section). So it remains a mystery, which isn't great, but it doesn't seem to have implications for any (highly, highly theoretical) future pregnancies. And, finally, she cleared me to lift up to 25 pounds, which means that now when D leaves Jelly on the couch, I can do more than just glance apologetically at her when she wants to get down.

More posts, including the birth story, to come at some indeterminate point in the future when I have time and brain cells. Or at least one of the above.