During the day he was exhausted and fussy, yawning constantly, eye-rubbing, wanting to be held more than usual.
I took him to the pediatrician.
“Babies go through phases,” she said. “Night terrors, teething, dreams.
He looks healthy.”
I nodded, but my stomach knotted.
Because my gut was screaming something was off.
The first weird night, it was around 1 a.m.
I’d just put him down. I watched him fall asleep. I double-checked the windows, the outlet covers, everything.
I flopped on the couch with my laptop and the cheap audio baby monitor on the coffee table.
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