I have 11-month-old twin boys. If you’ve never had twins, imagine sleep deprivation becoming part of your personality.
For almost a year, I hadn’t slept more than three consecutive hours.
Mark, my husband, traveled for work at least twice a month, sometimes more.
I have 11-month-old twin boys.
Besides each other, we have no family.
My parents passed away years ago, and I was their only child. Mark grew up in foster care, moving from one home to another. We didn’t have grandparents to call or a backup plan.
Two weeks before everything unraveled, I broke down on the kitchen floor.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I told Mark over the phone while Liam screamed in the background and Noah banged a spoon against the high chair tray. “I’m so tired I can’t even think straight anymore.”
We didn’t have grandparents to call or a backup plan.
Mark’s voice softened immediately. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone. I should’ve hired help months ago.”