The first four weeks were exhausting and beautiful!
Our apartment turned into a war zone of burp cloths and formula bottles.
We lived in a haze of caffeine and half-finished conversations. Every night, we whispered over the baby monitor like two teenagers in love again.
Megan barely slept, yet she smiled constantly.
We took too many photos and stared at our daughter as if we couldn’t believe she was real. We were happy in a way I’d never known before!
“I can’t believe she’s ours,” Megan said one night, cradling Rhea in the dark.
“I can,” I whispered.
“We waited long enough.”
I remember thinking I was the luckiest man alive!
But one evening, I came home, and everything felt… off.
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