I’m drowning here. It’s finally starting to hit me. I may be biased, but I have the fussiest baby alive.
The past few days have been nothing but crying-not just any crying that might signal hunger or a wet diaper. No, m’am. This is something only the devil could bring out.
It begins with a frown. A cute little frown that at first glance you think, “aw, he’s sad.” Then you are sorry you didn’t act sooner, because that has turned into an inconsolable scream, usually in your ear. The only thing we’ve found that cures that is standing up and walking around or swaying. Sit back down, or place him in the napper when he’s drifted off to sleep and again, and you are sorry you did such a thing. It takes a mere minute for him to realize he isn’t being held, and the screaming commences again.
I can’t stand his crying. I mean that in a motherly way. The fact that my baby is upset crushes my soul. I can’t take it to the point that I get dizzy. The boy loves to be rocked, so I could spend hours walking around and rocking him, but with my lack of sleep and appetite I find it hard to stand for more than a minute or two.
Naturally, I hit up the interwebs and did some research. I found this great article on fussy babies at KellyMom, and it made me feel a lot better about myself. As it turns out, fussy babies are normal. I tried the suggested “colic hold” with Lil B in case he was feeling a bit gassy. And guess what, IT WORKED. I was full of joy, elation, jubilation, happiness, jump-up-and-down-while-crying feelings because I had finally done it! I made my baby happy, and therefore I was the happiest person on the planet.
And then he started again.
Motherhood: that moment when you think, “By gosh, I’ve done it!” and then you get crushed because your handy work was just erased and you’re back at square one.