My 3-month-old has colic.
It’s frustrating for plenty of obvious reasons. We’ve changed formulas and tried more tummy time. Maybe she prefers being held like this, instead of that? The trial-and-error list goes on. And anyone who has ever dealt with incessant infant crying knows these are just Band-Aid solutions anyway.
The real truth is, she just cries until she’s done crying.
Colic is exhausting.
On any given day, my little one will cry for several long periods throughout her waking hours.
My options are simple, yet endlessly exasperating: try to console her or allow her to cry.
The Mama Bear in me always chooses to console. She implores me to find a solution. She begs me not to set that baby down. Mama Bear urges, “This is your child. Only you can ease her pain. Only you can stop the crying.” She’s desperate for answers. She just wants her little girl to be happy.
The Practical Mom in me will try to let my baby cry. She argues with Mama Bear over what’s best for the whole family. You see, there are three other children, a husband, two dogs even. This house is full, and responsibilities don’t suddenly end when the baby begins crying.
I pray for it to get easier.
I also already know it eventually will.
But, if I’m being truly honest, I have to admit, this moment in time is disheartening.
I’m tired of sympathetic looks from strangers and well-meaning advice. Please believe me . . . I do appreciate how you want to help. Maybe your inner Mama Bear tells you to. But, chances are, if you’re suggesting it, I’ve tried it, and now I feel embarrassed that my child’s wailing just interrupted your day too.
I often don’t let anyone else hold my little girl. “Not right now,” seems to be my most-spoken phrase lately. And, really, it breaks my heart every single time, especially when I say it to her siblings.
I spend more time with Dr. Google than I’d like to admit. I quietly wish today’s search will magically reveal an answer that wasn’t there yesterday. In reality, I just end up down a rabbit hole full of the same old suggestions.
When my baby girl begins to cry in public, anxiety sets in fast.
I know she will be fine, but I wonder if onlookers know that too. I feel a sweaty sense of urgency to calm her. I swear, I’m not trying to interrupt your phone call as I pace back and forth, bouncing her. The second you eye us up, I want to cry too, assuming you’re not the only person we are disturbing.
Most days I feel rational. I know my girl is OK and this is just a phase. Other days are hard. I question my parenting and think everyone is judging me and my unhappy baby.
Colic is frustrating. It’s exhausting, and hard, and can be so, so discouraging.
Sometimes, I just need a reminder . . .
My little girl has colic. But, she’s going to be just fine.
The truth is she will cry until she is done crying.