5 MONTHS LATER
Landon and I were asleep at 5 a.m. when a baby down the hallway started crying. I could hear Harper talking to the baby, pleading with him to go back to sleep, but she wasn’t having much luck.
I got out of bed and walked down the hallway to her bedroom, where she was pacing around the room, holding her one-month-old son. She looked exhausted and was at a loss for what to do.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said.
I walked into the room, took the baby from her arms, and said, “Go back to bed.”
“No, this is my responsibility,” she replied.
“Harper, that’s why you’re here—so you don’t have to do this alone,” I said gently.
“He’s fed and changed; I just don’t know what he wants,” she said, her worry evident.
“Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep,” I reassured her
