To the mother in the throes of a wide-eyed restless newborn.
To the father who sleep-walks through the day reminding himself to breathe, to answer questions, to function.
To the parents of an eight-week-old waking every hour demanding another bottle, his dummy back in, his mother’s embrace.
To the couple furious with themselves for ruining what they had for this a screaming, red-faced, back-arched angry six-month-old. This wasn’t what they bargained on... I want you to know this.