Fourth trimester truths: no swaddling, no sleeping, constipation (mine) and abject terror

We come home on a Friday, my baby and I. He falls asleep as soon as we buckle him into the car seat. What a good baby, I think, as if five-day-old babies can be good or bad. He is an amoeba, and yet, I think he is a good baby. He is my good baby. I have been in the hospital for four nights, ever since the failed Monday-night induction that led to a...