A lot, as it happens! The first thing is that I slept much better, and apart from a brief trip down the corridor to be weighed and have my temperature taken at 5am, I slept uninterrupted till around 9am. I’ve lost just over half a pound since I was born: what a result! If I carry on at this rate, then in only a month I’ll be, hang on…better not keep losing weight I suppose!

Mum and Dad then took me to my first photo shoot, where I posed for 27 (twenty-seven) photos taken by the in-house photographer. One will be published online later today, and Mum and Dad can then decide how many to order later in the week. Honestly, losing weight first thing, posing for photos before lunch: am I a new born baby or a model?

The main event of the day, however, was undoubtedly the final hospital check-up, the tests which would determine whether I would be able to leave the hospital today, or have to stay at least one more night. We all went there straight after the photo shoot: I didn’t enjoy the first part of the experience at all, which was when the nurse examined me as Mum and Dad were talking to the doctor about the purpose of the tests, so I was crying even before the serious business began.

The most important part of the procedure was that the doctor had found one slightly unusual thing he wanted to do to me, which he had to ask Mum and Dad about. The problem was that I wasn’t able to extend my tongue as far as I should: my frenulum (the bit that joins the floor of the mouth to the underside of the tongue) was too short, and this meant it had to be cut if I was to avoid potential problems with feeding, and even speaking, in the future.

Mum and Dad naturally agreed at once, but Mum said she couldn’t watch, so it was left to Dad to peep over the doctor’s shoulder as he performed the procedure while the nurse made sure I didn’t make any sudden moves. Not sure quite why they felt one needed to watch…

Next the doctor told Dad to wash his hands (Dad’s hands, not the doctor’s). Just as I was wondering why, he told him to put his little finger in my mouth! I immediately started sucking it, and found that it was accompanied by 4 ml of Mum’s specially pumped colostrum (not every baby gets this), which I gulped down so enthusiastically that I didn’t notice the doctor taking my blood. Then they said “fertig!”

The funniest part of the check-up was that one of the other staff members, whom we’d met earlier on our journey through the hospital, suddenly appeared towards the end: she’d checked the schedule to see when I was having my doctor’s appointment, just to come to the office and see me one more time. It seems I have an effect on some people already!

This effect was also noticeable as we left the hospital. We got the green light to go, collected our things, completed the paperwork, and made our way to the main exit. Behind a desk marked “Information” sat a woman of late middle years. We asked her to be so good as to call us a taxi, and she immediately did so, without realising the exact nature of the passenger list; the minute she saw me, some strange force took hold of her and she turned into a gushing, mushy ball of slush, and as the taxi firm picked up the phone the first thing she said was “ein kleines Baby!” (a little baby!) followed by “she looks like an angel!” with a wistful, faraway look in her eyes, understandably confusing the respondent, and it took her a good few seconds to regain enough composure to ask where we wanted to go. Even then, she turned to a woman who had poked her head round the corner of the booth to see what the fuss was about to ask if she thought I was cute: the answer came quickly, and in the affirmative.

We arrived home around half past three, and the good news is that I’ve got a whole room to myself! Among other things it’s got a bed, a chest of drawers, a toy chest and a beautiful cupboard, hand-painted with birds. There’s also an interesting picture on the wall, and another set of symbols I don’t understand: they must mean something, I suppose. I’ve certainly landed on my feet here, although right now I really only need a small corner of Mum and Dad’s bedroom, to be honest. I’m not going to be this size for long, though. Mum and Dad refer to the flat as having an East Wing and a West Wing, and although this is perhaps a tad hyperbolic, you can certainly see what they mean.

Another of today’s highlights was Dad learning (or trying to learn) to change a nappy, but it’s a bit strange that he still finds it hard to dress me: if I can learn to adapt to a completely new world so quickly, why can’t he get my arms through a baby garment and button it up without making me look as if I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards?

Towards the end of the day, when I was exhausted, I also met a dog called Findus for the first time, but I wasn’t too aware of him at the time. There’ll be plenty of time to get to know him on other days, I’m sure.

Right at the end of the day Mum produced her first milk, and I tasted the good stuff for the first time. I went to bed with a blissful smile on my face next to Mum, despite having my own bed right next to Mum’s side of the bed: Mum wouldn’t have it any other way.