The first week home with Daniel was the longest week of Emma's life.
Not long in a bad way—though there were bad moments, terrifying moments, moments when Emma was convinced she was failing at motherhood. But long in the way that sleep deprivation warps time, turning three-hour feeding cycles into endless loops of exhaustion.
Daniel ate every three hours. Exactly. Like clockwork. At midnight, 3 AM, 6 AM, 9 AM, noon, and on and on. Emma tried to nap between feedings but couldn't—she was too wired, too anxious, too busy staring at the baby monitor making sure Daniel was still breathing.
"You need to sleep," Alexander said on day four, finding Emma at 4 AM in the nursery, watching Daniel sleep, checking his chest to see it rising and falling.
