Double-Checking

I can’t hear him breathing on the monitor, so I tiptoe down the hall to the nursery and lower my head over the crib rail, SIDS occupying my mind.

The quick, shallow breaths—the tiny squeak at the end of each exhale—lull me. Satisfied, I return to my room and find my husband sitting up in bed.

“When will you sleep?”

“His little snores are so adorable!”

He flips the covers back, and I snuggle into his body like a spoon. “You should have a listen.”

“Shhh, later.” He wraps his arms around me, kisses my ear.

Lulls me.

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