When I discovered I was expecting our third child, I was taken by surprise. To make matters worse, I was feeling utterly miserable. For those long nine months, my loyal companion was a little strawberry-flavored miracle called Zofran, which helped me navigate the day-to-day struggles of pregnancy.
By the time June rolled around, I was more than ready for this phase to end. I was enormous, heartburn was my constant companion (even just thinking about water set it off), and I could barely manage to walk. Surely, things would get better once this baby arrived, right? I daydreamed about the peaceful afternoons spent napping with my newborn snuggled on my chest, and I knew I’d shed a tear at that first birthday party, reminiscing about the sweet, blissful days of infancy that would soon be behind us.
Then he was born. I left the hospital with blisters from nursing a very hungry, tongue-tied little one. It quickly became apparent that this baby was a different breed than my previous two angelic children.
Around the two-week mark, the crying began. This wasn’t the soft, heart-tugging whimper of a newborn; no, it was a blood-curdling scream that could last for hours. His tiny fists would clench, his face would turn beet red, and the wailing would start between 5 and 7 PM, continuing until midnight or later. Every single night.
If you’ve never dealt with colic, let me tell you—it’s a soul-crushing experience. It breaks you down, makes you feel irrationally angry, and swirls your emotions into chaos. Even if the days are relatively calm, that relentless crying every night can affect your entire well-being.
I’m a doer by nature (often to my own detriment), and I desperately wanted to FIX the situation. I thought that if I read enough books, researched enough techniques, and implemented various strategies, the crying would stop. But nothing worked. We would sit in the dark (because light and stimulation only made it worse), and he would wail. I’d rock him until I felt like a limp rag, zoning out to cope with the madness. There were times I found myself crying right along with him. This went on for seven long months.
I felt like I was losing my mind from the constant screaming. I worried that someone might report us for child abuse (we live in an apartment with neighbors above and below!). The sleep deprivation didn’t help either. And worst of all, I felt like I should have my act together since he was my third child—why couldn’t I handle this? I should be bonding with him and loving every moment, but instead, everything felt like a chore. I didn’t even want to hold him, but he wouldn’t let me put him down. Resentment crept in. I even found myself resenting my husband for going to work each day while I was stuck at home.
Finally, around the eight-month mark, we decided to try sleep training one more time. With determination, it actually worked this time! Coincidentally, he also decided he was done nursing and switched to a bottle. With the newfound sleep and the freedom that came with formula (sometimes it’s just better!), I started to see glimmers of hope.
Now, our little guy is a world away from those colicky days. By the time he turned one, he was an absolute joy. He sleeps wonderfully, has a huge smile, and is a goofy little character who loves making his older brothers laugh.
So to all the parents struggling through this tough phase: it will get better. I promise you it really will! In the meantime, hang on to your sanity. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, gently set your baby down in a safe spot and take a breather. And don’t hesitate to ask for help! If you’re in Seattle, I’ll happily deliver some food your way.
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In summary, while dealing with a colicky baby can feel isolating and overwhelming, there is light at the end of the tunnel. With patience, support, and perhaps a little help from experts, you can navigate this challenging journey and come out on the other side with a happy, thriving child.