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

Or I thought I did.”

He gave a quieter laugh.

“Then I started waking up every night, convinced Noah had stopped breathing. Or that we’d left him too warm or too cold. Or that the formula bottle wasn’t clean enough. Or that I was going to go to work exhausted and make some mistake big enough to get fired, and then we’d lose the house, and that would continue reading …