So when does all this obsessive worrying end? It doesn't does it? I'm going to lose my mind.

When do you stop sifting through their poop to make sure it's the proper seedy consistency?

When do you stop obsessing if they are getting enough breast milk despite them already gaining their birth weight back?

When do you stop thinking that every other car on the road is going to slam into you and you no longer want to drive on the shoulder with your hazards on going 5 mph? (don't worry we don't do this)

When do you stop worrying that the bumps in the road are too much and will cause some sort of damage to him?

When do you no longer want to rip the limbs of the lab person off when she does a heel prick and make your son cry?

When do you stop standing over him as he sleeps?

When do you stop hovering over anyone who holds him ready to grab him out of their hands at the first sign of his discomfort?

When do you stop changing his clothes a million times a day because you think he's too hot...no now he's too cold, hot, cold, hot, cold...

When do you stop calling the pediatrician a million times to make sure his cord is healing OK?

When do you stop getting mad at your husband because he isn't as high strung about all these things as you are?

With that said...

His first pediatrician appointment went very well. He's healthy, normal and average in everything (high average for height and weight, no surprise there). He was 8lb and 15oz and 21 inches when he was born and is now 9lbs 2oz and 21 3/4 inches.

We went through about 100 diapers at the one appointment because they kept taking a rectal temp and it would be instant explosion (his temp was a little high when we got there).

But man, this is all worth it.