After a long screaming fit from our little girl the other day, my husband and I decided to utter a word we’ve been afraid of speaking out. Colic.
There are varying degrees of it, and I know that Amayah would be on the lower end of the scale. Some of our friends have had a child or children that screamed constantly for months.
I’m hesitant to fully give up on searching for what might be upsetting her and simply label it as colic. Deep down I’m afraid something is really hurting her that we haven’t figured out.
We have found different positions that seem to make her less upset, so we can trade-off when my husband is home. But when it’s just me by myself, that’s when my son gets really frustrated and acts out a lot.
At times he is rough and he’s tried to pull her out of my arms as he cries, begging me to put her down. Other times he tries to be helpful and lies beside her rubbing her back saying “please stop crying Amayah”, or “I know, I know, baby, just settle down”.
I have felt like a really bad mom, not being what I want to be to Caleb, and not being able to problem solve what’s happening with baby girl.
The noise is absolutely maddening. When the two of them get going (him crying because she is, combined with the other norms of two year old tantrums), I have felt like I won’t live through the present. When I hear things like “you are doing the best job in the world”, I know in theory it’s true, but pacing the floor day after day with screaming kids feels far from meaningful.
It seems that a majority of families will have at least one (sometimes more) babies that suffer from varying degrees of colic. Most often these babies settle when away from the house, and no one will even know they struggle.
So how do you get through? We are trying to educate ourselves since we have read some startling statistics about post partum depression and divorce that can come to a family trying to deal with infant colic. We will not become a sad statistic.
God gave me a little phrase the other day while I was driving with the two screaming babes that I have been repeating somewhat obsessively to myself. The crying is temporal, but the relationships are eternal.
The crying is temporal, but the relationships are eternal.
One day this cloud will give way to the light of relationship with these kids. We purposefully dream of holidays, movie nights and family adventures. We talk of soccer games, dance classes, and kids clubs. We plan our fifth, our tenth, our twentieth anniversary. Looking to the future reminds us that we are family, not just ineffective baby consolers.
There are of course good moments, and moments of peace, but they do seem few and far between. Some verses I’ve been holding on to lately:
Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this:
The faithful love of the Lord never ends!
His mercies never cease.
Great is his faithfulness;
his mercies begin afresh each morning.
Even youths will become weak and tired,
and young men will fall in exhaustion.
But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.
There is much more I could share from this time, but for now I’ll take your survival tips for colic!