The night we finally slept
Nineteen nights of forty-minute wake-ups, then one small change in the nursery.
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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.
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