I tiptoe down the hallway as quietly as possible, trying to avoid the many creaky floor boards in this old house of ours.
It’s been twenty minutes since I laid him down in his crib and tiptoed my way out of his room, leaving him wide-eyed and staring at the colorful stripes on his crib bumper.
It’s been twenty quiet minutes.
Could it be that he fell asleep on his own?
I slowly push the door open and peek in.
He is still. His eyes are closed. His pacifier is next to him on the mattress. His legs twitch slightly as I stand and stare with wonder and pride. He is asleep!
After nine weeks and two days, I am not sure I can call this beautiful baby boy a “newborn” anymore.