When I discovered I was expecting our third child, it came as a bit of a shock. To make matters worse, I was unwell throughout the entire nine months. The only thing that kept me going was a strawberry-flavored medication known as Zofran, which became my constant companion during that challenging time.
By June, I was utterly exhausted and ready for the pregnancy to end. I felt enormous, suffered from heartburn at the mere sight of water, and could barely walk. Surely, things would improve once the baby arrived, and I could return to managing life more efficiently. I longed for the comforting afternoon naps with my baby nestled on my chest, imagining the bittersweet emotions that would wash over me at his first birthday party.
However, once he was born, the reality was far from what I had envisioned. I experienced painful blisters from nursing a very hungry, tongue-tied infant before I even left the hospital. It quickly became apparent that this baby had a temperament unlike our previous two calm children.
Around the two-week mark, our baby began to cry incessantly. This was not the gentle, heartwarming whimper of a newborn; it was a blood-curdling wail that could last for hours. He would clench his tiny fists, his face turning bright red as he screamed, starting around 5 PM and continuing until midnight or later—every single night.
If you’ve never dealt with colic, it can be incredibly overwhelming. It breaks your spirit, inflicts emotional pain, and can provoke irrational anger. Even if daylight hours were relatively peaceful, that relentless crying each evening significantly impacted my overall well-being.
Being a proactive person, I felt an intense need to solve the problem. I read countless books, scoured the internet for solutions, and tried every technique I could find, but nothing seemed to help. We would sit in darkness (as light and stimulation exacerbated the situation) while he cried. I often felt limp and helpless, zoning out just to cope. Sometimes, I cried alongside him. This went on for seven long months.
The constant screaming left me frazzled. I worried irrationally about being reported for child abuse, living in an urban setting with neighbors above and below us. The lack of sleep and the feeling of being overwhelmed compounded my stress. Having previously managed two kids, I felt I should have everything under control, but I was struggling. I didn’t feel connected to this baby like I had with my others, and caring for him felt burdensome. I resented him and even my husband, who got to leave for work each day.
Finally, around eight months, we decided to take control and attempt sleep training again. This time, with unwavering determination, it worked. Simultaneously, he chose to reject nursing in favor of a bottle. With the newfound sleep and the convenience of formula (which can be a better option sometimes), I began to see glimmers of hope.
Our story has transformed dramatically. Our baby emerged from colic, and by his first birthday, he was a joy to be around. Now he is an excellent sleeper, sporting a big smile, and is incredibly playful, always eager to make his older brothers laugh.
To all the parents navigating these challenging times: it will get better. There will come a day when the storm passes. In the meantime, safeguard your mental health. If you ever feel overwhelmed, gently place your baby in a safe space and take a breather. Remember, seeking help is vital; if you’re in Seattle, I’d be happy to bring you a meal. For more information, you can check out this article for additional support on parenting.
In conclusion, parenting, especially with a colicky baby, can be incredibly tough, but it is essential to remember that the challenges will pass, and brighter days lie ahead.