Eighteen months apart, and for the first months nobody slept at all

When my son was born my daughter was a year and a half. We all slept in one bed: one at the breast, the other pressed to my side and screaming at intervals too. It was grim, and I do not have a nicer word for it.

It does pass - slowly, and not because you did anything right. Part three, and the hardest one to write.