Magazine

It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, and I was crying in a nursing bra that smelled intensely like sour milk and desperation. Leo was exactly four days old. My husband, Dave, was hovering unhelpfully in the nursery doorway holding...

At 37 weeks into my wife's pregnancy, I proudly stood in our nursery looking at my haul. I had acquired exactly fourteen pairs of newborn sneakers, three miniature denim jackets, a tiny tuxedo, and zero functional sleepwear. I approached our...