After the arrival of our first child, my partner and I enjoyed several delightful weeks at home, embracing our new roles as parents. We felt unstoppable, ready to tackle anything that came our way. In the nine months leading up to this moment, we devoured countless parenting books. We were well-versed in cloth diapering and homemade baby food, figured out the car seat tether system, and even contemplated future dilemmas like discipline, losing teeth, and dating.
We thought we had this parenting gig down.
Then one fateful night, our sweet baby boy began to cry. But this was no ordinary cry—his wails escalated into frantic sobs, his little face turning crimson, and his tiny fists flailing in distress. It was heart-wrenching. Naturally, we panicked, checking him for any signs of injury or illness, but found none. We tried everything: rocking, singing, and even making a few laps around the block, but nothing seemed to soothe him.
We hoped that this was just a one-time occurrence, but reality hit hard. Our little one was suffering from colic, and the crying persisted for three long months. Just imagine—three months of relentless, piercing cries for hours on end, all while we battled sleep deprivation. I even heard that the sound of an infant’s cries is used to prepare Navy SEALS for torture. I’m serious.
Colic turned our home upside down and eroded our confidence in understanding our son’s needs. Any semblance of a regular sleep schedule vanished as we desperately tried to calm him. I reached out to our pediatrician, expecting some guidance. Instead, I was told that colic is a common and “normal” phase of infancy. Normal?! There was nothing about those agonizing hours of crying that felt normal! The doctor assured me it would pass, joking that one day I would look back and laugh at this “Murphy’s Law of Motherhood.” After that call, I felt utterly defeated.
Desperate for answers, I turned to mom groups on social media. I joined so many that I lost track while searching for a solution to our baby’s relentless crying. Some moms suggested that my breastfeeding was the issue, claiming babies often struggle to digest lactose, while others insisted that formula was harmful and would worsen colic. One mom even tried to sell me an amber necklace, claiming it had magical powers to calm babies—hard pass on that! Finding help on Facebook was turning out to be a wild goose chase.
The incessant crying wore us down to our cores. My partner and I took turns pacing the floor, bouncing and shushing for hours on end. We wrapped our son in Moby wraps, swaddled him tightly, rubbed essential oils on his back, gave him warm baths, played relaxing music, and exchanged exhausted glances filled with worry. This colic struggle was truly testing our limits.
What made it worse was the feeling that no one truly understood how drained and anxious we were about our child’s well-being. The endless crying and fussiness, despite our every effort to comfort him, terrified us. Shouldn’t this be taken seriously? It felt like everyone treated colic as just another hurdle to jump over on the parenting journey, like picky eating or the terrible twos. But I knew my baby was in distress, and nothing we did seemed to alleviate his suffering, which was the hardest part to accept.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the colic subsided, and our baby settled into a regular sleep routine. While the notion that parenting is a series of challenges proved true, I’ll never forget the loneliness that accompanied my fears about colic and its impact on our growing family. It’s a memory that sticks with you.
Parents don’t need to hear that they should stop breastfeeding or that formula is harmful or that “this is just a phase.” When you’re deep in the trenches of colic, “it’s just a phase” is the least helpful thing to hear. Moms and dads navigating the chaos of colic need validation for their fears and frustrations and reassurance that they’re not alone in feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.
Though I now understand that colic isn’t a lifelong issue and won’t cause any permanent harm, having just one person acknowledge our struggles could have made a world of difference. So please, the next time you encounter a mother and her baby battling colic, resist the urge to dismiss it as merely a phase. That’s the last thing she needs.
If you’re interested in learning more about coping with colic, check out our other blog post here. It’s full of resources to help you through those difficult moments. Additionally, if you’re looking for a reliable source on home insemination, visit Make a Mom—they offer great insights. For more information on family-building options, see this excellent resource from Resolve.
In summary, colic is a challenging experience for both parents and infants. It’s essential to provide emotional support and understanding during this difficult time, rather than dismissing it as a temporary issue.