20% of all babies get colic.

With two babies, surely our chances were higher that we'd get a collicky baby.

We did.

This is week number three of Nora Screaming the House Down. We finally have a reason why even if we don't have a cure, and she's perfectly healthy (just a bit underweight), she's just got colic. It's beginning to wear all of us - and our relationships - down.

We've tried everything. We've tried rocking, cuddling, crying it out, soothing, back patting, extra winding, carrying her in a sling, bouncy chairs, swings, carrying her in our arms in a variety of positions, holding her against our hearts, walking up and down stairs, and trying to sleep with her. We use Dr. Brown's bottles which are supposed to help prevent colic, to no avail. We've tried white noise - dishwashers, washing machines, running water, radio static, me repeatedly saying "shhhh" all with no success. The vacuum cleaner does soothe her briefly, but only for a very short while. I've ordered a CD that plays "Baby Specific" white noise, we'll see how that works. We've tried bathing, talking to her, trying to stimulate her with toys suitable for her developmental stage, baby massage, and shutting the door and walking away. We did try gripe water (colic water) last night, and it did seem to work as it produced a series of massive belches and she settled not too long afterwards, but neither of us are crazy about constantly medicating her.

Most babies - Nick being one of them - sometimes cry but then settle themselves to sleep. Not Nora. That girl can work a screaming session for hours. It's currently 1:30 in the afternoon. She's been screaming since 10, and it's not going to stop anytime soon I know.

They say that a baby crying is programmed to be one of the most annoying sounds to a human. And it is. Nora, in particular, has an extremely aggressive, violent cry that is simultaneously ear-bleeding and heartbreaking at the same time. I hate it for her when she cries but nothing I do seems to help.

This morning after both of them sleeping all night, Angus and I fed them and then he sweetly agreed to bring them into bed with us as a special occasion. The four of us napped from 7 - 9, and I had Nora fast asleep on my chest. I know this is naughty, I know we shouldn't do it, but my God it was heaven. She can be such an incredible angel, it's so amazing, and when she's awake and in a good mood the interaction is fantastic and she's an utter delight.

She can also be Damian.

Last night I had an event I'm not proud of. She had worked herself into a frenzy in the early evening as she does most early evenings. She could not be consoled. Nothing I did was right. I was exhausted, I'd spent most of yesterday feeling quite stressed but was unable to articulate why, and I couldn't face another night of her screaming. Melissa had been feeding her but when Nora spit up Melissa passed her off to me and then put her clothes in the wash as she can't stand to have baby spit up on her. I'm really pleased Melissa wants to help feed them, but I can't face all the laundry involved when she does help. Then again, maybe there's something wrong with me, maybe I should immediately launder everything I get baby bloop on.

So last night I was holding Nora who was going increasingly nuclear, and I melted down. At that moment I knew I had to put Nora down and walk away from her for a while. I'm not saying I would hurt her, not ever, but for a moment I could understand what motivates some people to snap and hurt their babies. I carried her upstairs and swaddled her and laid her in her cot and shut the door. I feel really, really ashamed for how angry I was feeling with her. I know I would never shake her or hit her or anything like that, but for one second I knew I had to be away from her.

When she gets really worked up she has to be put in her cot and we walk away. The midwife and the health visitor discussed this with us, and it's their recommendation and our last resort. So when we do this, Nora stays apoplectic...and she works her way all over the crib. To add further insult to injury, this usually means she gets herself out of her swaddle (they don't sleep well without the swaddle, they get too insecure, and she only disentangles herself from her swaddle during the daytime, never at night) and she manages to rip her diaper off daily. This means more laundry. And of course yesterday my nightmare finally came true and she ripped off a diaper that had been freshly pooed in, so the bedding, the clothing, and the kid had to be immediately washed. Which, of course, only made her angrier.

It's so exhausting. As I type this she's up there screaming her head off. Nick's joined in. And now they both produce tears, and it's even more agonizing, because you go in their room and tears are streaming and nothing you can do will stop them (when Nick does it he's just overtired, and usually sorts himself out). I want to fix it all but I can't, and I know that they will outgrow it they just can't get there fast enough. In the meantime we're all exhausted, I'm trying to keep their crying from really driving Angus crazy and heading down a dark path. I also feel terrible - Nora gets most of the attention over Nick as we try to resolve the screaming, but at the same time everyone loves Nick and wants to hold him and be with him as he's really an extremely easygoing baby.

And there is so much fucking housework to do it's eating me inside. I can't keep up with it. And now we have items all over the house as we're renovating Melissa's room for her and everything in the room is now in the hallway and living room. I don't mind the renovations, actually (Melissa and Angus are doing all of them) as it does help end the argument about who gets the new room in the extension (if we're putting this much time and money into her room then she's staying put. End of story.) It's just I can't see the forest for the trees and my mind is telling me to keep cleaning the house, just keep cleaning the house, everything will be better, everyone will be happier, let's just clean the house.

I deal with my stress this morning by throwing away a huge chunk of my wardrobe.

Somehow, it helps.

Gotta' go, it's soon feeding time and screaming time again, only I'll cave and administer gripe water if it keeps going on too long because none of us can take the consant screaming.

I feel like a very bad mother indeed.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 01:42 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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