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My husband appeared on the baby monitor every night at 2 a.m. carrying a mysterious paper bag—when I finally watched him open it, I gasped

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during daytime naps while folding laundry downstairs.

That night, I opened it mainly to reassure myself that Ethan was in the nursery arranging diapers, cleaning the changing pad, or doing some other random task brought on by exhaustion.

He was not there live.

Then I saw the playback option.

I do not know why I pressed it. Maybe it was instinct or anxiety.continue reading …

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