Hello Uncle Ian...!

I finally got to meet Zoe yesterday.

Here I am, holding her hand and leering in at her (I don't think she found it too traumatic, (a) because she has to put up with everyone, including my Dad (in background), leering in at her and (b) she had her eyes shut).*



She's back on the tiniest oxygen mask in the world and has a feeding tube in, but is doing very well. She drank 13ml of milk while I was there last night - well, she had it syringed down the tube by my sister with one hand through each of the holes in the incubator like one of those games off the Crystal Maze.

She's linked up to about 20 different hospital playstations...



...which keep beeping and clicking, but within perfectly acceptable limits, apparently. If you are not used to that happening though, it's bloody scary!

Raced up north yesterday to see her, and now have several days of lying on the sofa watching naff ITV 9.25am sub-Disney cartoons about puppies or mice that save the world in a Christmassy fashion. Bliss.

*Sorry about all those embedded parentheses...