I had forgotten that babies came this small.

I had forgotten that a teaspoon of spit up is equivalent in volume to a gallon of any normal liquid.

I had forgotten the wheezy noises when sleeping.

I had forgotten to keep the diaper off for as short a time as possible.

I had forgotten the smell of a newborn’s head, like rain on hot pavement.

I had forgotten how, when they go truly high-order, a baby cries so hard and so loud that her lower lip trembles and adds vibrato to her cries.

I had forgotten that nibbled baby toes are delicious.

I had forgotten the soft “huh-huh-huh … aaah!” sigh when babies fall asleep.

I had forgotten that sleeping for a total of eight hours but with a thirty-minute awake period every three hours is like shattering a window and then repairing it with Elmer’s glue.

I had forgotten that Dr. Harvey Karp is a genius.

I had forgotten the feel of a newborn baby curled like a comma, body pressed against mine, breath hot on my neck, in that midnight hour when we are the only two people in the world.