I think back to a moment when our daughter had her first baby. She was exhausted. Spent. The feedings rolled around every two hours but by the time she finished the feeding and completed one task such as a quick power nap or shower, two hours had passed and her sweet little one was hungry again. We stood face to face in her living room. Her with her downcast shoulders and me with my sympathetic smile. I cupped her tear-stained cheeks with my love-worn grandma hands and said, “You can do this. Many others have gone before you and survived. It will be okay. I promise!”
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