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I peeked over the side of his crib to check that he was soundly sleeping. Or was it to spy on my beautiful little boy? The reason is lost on me now. His pacifier sat against his cheek, and something told me that he would roll into it and get frustrated with the rubber guard. That something was months of hearing his increasingly loud cry in the middle of the night at the annoyance of having the pacifier pressed into his cheek which inevitably made him realize his hunger.

I made a motion to remove the pink hand-me-down soother, and as I did, he started. His small hands jumped into the air and hovered there, a frown forming between his blond eyebrows. I placed the pacifier just far enough away from him to find the next time he woke up but out of the way so he couldn’t get angry with it. I watched his hand slowly float back to the linen crib sheet and his face soften back to contentment.

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