When I discovered I was expecting our third child, I was taken by surprise. On top of that, I was feeling unwell—really unwell. For the entire nine months, I relied on that little strawberry-flavored lifesaver, Zofran, just to get through the days. By June, I was more than ready to be done with the whole ordeal. I felt like a balloon about to pop, suffering from heartburn at the mere sight of water. I could barely move and desperately hoped things would improve once the baby arrived. I envisioned those peaceful afternoons, snuggling with my newborn, and couldn’t help but feel emotional at the thought of their first birthday creeping up.
Then he arrived. Right from the start, nursing was a challenge with this tongue-tied little guy, and it became evident that he had a temperament unlike our previous two easygoing children. Around the two-week mark, the crying began—not the gentle whimper of a newborn, but rather a blood-curdling scream that could last for hours. Each evening, from about 5 to 7 PM until midnight, he would unleash this relentless wail, day in and day out.
For those who’ve never dealt with colic, it’s an experience that can really break you down. It stirs up a whirlwind of emotions—irrational anger, frustration, and overwhelming worry. Even on quieter days, those nightly cries take a toll on your mental well-being. As someone who thrives on action, I was desperate to fix the situation. I read countless books, scoured the internet, and tried every method I could find, but nothing seemed to ease his distress. There I was, sitting in the dark, where light and stimulation only aggravated his crying, rocking him until my arms felt like jelly, often losing my own composure and crying alongside him. This went on for a grueling seven months.
I was utterly frazzled—struggling with sleepless nights, anxieties about someone reporting us for potential neglect (living in an apartment with neighbors can heighten those fears), and the nagging feeling that as a mother of three, I should have my act together. I felt alienated from this baby, unlike my previous ones, and struggled to bond with him. Caring for him felt like an endless chore, and I even found myself resenting my husband for leaving each day for work.
Finally, at around eight months, we decided to try sleep training once more. With renewed determination, we finally saw some success. Around the same time, he rejected nursing in favor of a bottle, which surprisingly felt liberating. With the newfound sleep routine and the convenience of formula, rays of hope began to shine through the chaos.
Looking back, our story has transformed dramatically. Our little one eventually outgrew his colic and by his first birthday, he had turned into an absolute joy. He sleeps well, has the brightest smile, and loves to entertain his older brothers with his goofy antics.
To all the parents out there in the trenches: it truly gets better. There will come a time when the storm passes. Hold onto your sanity, and if you ever feel overwhelmed, gently place your baby in a safe spot and take a breather. And please, reach out for help when you need it! If you’re in the Seattle area, I’m more than happy to bring you some food. For further insights, check out this blog post on home insemination methods.
Remember, resources like this excellent guide can offer valuable support, and you can explore reputable retailers like CryoBaby for at-home insemination kits.
In summary, while the journey of parenting a colicky baby can be overwhelming, it is important to know that brighter days are ahead. You’re not alone in this struggle, and there are plenty of resources available to help you navigate through.
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