I’m so ashamed to say this, but it — IT — not Clown-IT, no euphemism for pregnancy this time, but IT-IT, happened.
Baby E. slept through the night. From 8:30 p.m. to 4:30 a.m. For reals. I woke up at 2:30 in a panic, straining to hear what surely had been a cry, he must’ve been crying, because it was 2:30. But he wasn’t crying. He was snoozing. At the time I thought, Okay, and went back to sleep. It wasn’t until he woke us up two hours later that I realized IT GOT BETTER, didn’t it? They said it would get better. IT PASSED. I’m so embarrassed, because honestly? I didn’t really believe it would. Not really.
Of course, this is all said in the bright glowing dawn of day while Baby E. takes his first nap of the morning, and I’m still awash with delight at getting over 6 hours of sleep, mostly in a row. Probably this whole baby-sleeping thing is a fluke. Probably he’ll reset to some new weird witchy cycle in a month. Probably. But I will absolutely take what I can get today, along with another cup of tea.