We took turns, each of us sacrificing sleep so the other could rest. I’d stay up late into the night, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me, just so she could get some peace. Then she’d wake for the pump, and I’d slip into a fleeting sleep, only to wake again so she could rest a little more.
It was hard, so hard, but somehow, it got better. I know everyone says that, but it’s true by three?months, the chaos starts to settle into a routine, and sleep, glorious sleep, begins to feel like a gift again.