The night we finally slept

For nineteen nights straight, our daughter woke every forty minutes. I counted. I am not proud of counting, but I did it anyway.

Then a friend asked if the room was too bright. We taped a dark towel over the window that afternoon. That night she slept a four hour stretch. I cried. The happy kind.

It was not magic. Some nights are still rough. But that one change bought us back a little sleep, and a little sleep changes everything.