I held on to that dream for a year and more. Each month, and another, and another
The dream was simple. To sleep six hours in one stretch.
“Do you think,” I’d ask my husband plaintively, “do you think that it will ever, ever happen again?”
It just didn’t seem possible, in the spaces between feeds, in the two-hour stretches that were over almost before I could begin to dream.
“It will come, you’ll see,” the experienced mothers told me, but I just couldn’t see it. How? When? Really?
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