The nursery was dimly lit, the soft glow of the nightlight casting gentle shadows on the walls. I stood by the rocking chair, watching Jun as he finally fell asleep in my arms. After what felt like hours of soothing him, I could finally breathe a little easier.

Jun's tiny body felt so fragile against my chest, and I marveled at the weight of him—light enough to hold, yet heavy with all the love I felt. His small fingers were still wrapped around my pinky, and I couldn’t help but smile at how he was finally peaceful. The cries that had filled the house just moments before were replaced by the soft sound of his steady breathing. I leaned in closer, brushing my lips against the top of his head, inhaling the sweet, baby scent that enveloped him.

I carefully placed him in the crib, ensuring I didn’t disturb his slumber, and made my way to where my partner was. They sat on the couch, a tired look on their face. I walked over and wrapped my arms around them, pulling them close. “Hey,” I whispered, planting a few soft kisses on their forehead. “I think we should start a baby sleep deprivation support group. First rule: we complain about being tired and eat snacks.”