Seven Days of Love

Tuotuo’s little face was flushed pink in his sleep, looking absolutely adorable.

I was reminded of the time right after I gave birth to him—the hair loss, the insomnia, having to wake up to feed him every two or three hours.

In the dead of night, I felt like those were the quietest, most out-of-body moments I’d ever experienced in my life.

But inside my head, it was nothing but irritable, frantic agony.

Severe sleep deprivation.

The feeling of my heart racing wildly and the physical discomfort that washed over me every time I was jolted awake by the baby.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

One time, after being woken up yet again, I couldn’t suppress my temper and tossed Tuotuo onto the bed quite hard.

Tuotuo cried so pitifully, his little scrunched-up face looking far from cute.

But as he cried, I started crying too.

Filled with guilt and frustration, I pulled him back into my arms and patted him gently to soothe him.

Tuotuo fell asleep again very quickly.

In his sixth month, Tuotuo suddenly stopped needing his night feeds.

He slept straight through until morning.

It was as if he, too, was growing up as fast as he could, eager to take some of the burden off my shoulders.

He was just rushing to let me get some extra sleep; he was exactly like one of those “angel babies” people talk about online.

Tuotuo stirred, looking like he was about to wake up.

I walked over and said, “Give him to me. He’s used to me holding him.”

Tuotuo is six now, so it’s actually a bit of a struggle to carry him.

After standing in the elevator for a moment, my breathing started to grow ragged.

Jin Lan suddenly reached out and took Tuotuo from me: “Let me.”

Tuotuo slept soundly in his arms. Jin Lan lowered his gaze, gently patting Tuotuo’s back.

There was a tender expression on his face.

This house.

It was the house Jin Lan had gifted me, which I had later sold.

When Tuotuo was one year old, he fell gravely ill.