Twenty-six years ago~

The infant’s cries came through the baby monitor, waking me as the clock on the bedside stand read 2:40. The darkness beyond the windows confirmed it was the middle of the night, or perhaps more accurately, the early morning.

At two weeks of age, Renee was waking every four to five hours, and although I was exhausted, the baby in the nursery next to our bedroom had already stolen my heart. Rolling out of bed, I left Byron—using our new ...