Yesterday morning, everybody got tired of waiting for the snowflake, and the baby's destiny was decided. Teresa was uncomfortable, baby was seriously late to the party, and all persons concerned (except possibly Teresa, who really, really likes to do things her way) decided that an eviction notice was in order.
Teresa and I reported to the hospital, where the wonders of modern medicine were marshalled, and an induction was attempted. This is how well that worked.
Yup. Eight hours of knitting. No progress. There are worst ways to spend a day than knitting with a friend...but we really had something else in mind. You know, something that involved a wee charming non-knitter.
Eventually, the drugs (that Teresa didn't really want) designed to bring her that non-knitter wore off, and the very minute that they did and the second she was left to her own devices....
......an as yet unnamed baby boy, 8lbs, 8oz of good looking brand new person, born after a remarkably brilliant and stunningly efficient three hours of labour, to a tired but smiling mama who clearly doesn't like to be told what to do.
Welcome dude. You're going to like it here. Your mama is a force to be reckoned with.
(Don't worry. We're going to knit you a better hat.)
(Updated after a bit of a sleep: The baby has been named.
Montgomery. Monty for short. I think it suits him.)