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04/04/2005
Cry, robot
I am going to pour my heart out.
If you're infertile and still trying to have a baby, you'd do well to skip this one, because what I'm going to say is upsetting, especially, I imagine, to anyone who's sure that having a baby will make her happy. And if you're pregnant and happily looking forward to those sweet days of babyhood, better not read much more — I'm sure what I have to say won't apply to you. And if you're pregnant and scared to death about what might lie in store, this entry probably isn't for you, either, when you get right down to it. And if you object to self-indulgence, why, you just haul your Puritan ass right on outta here, 'kay?
I'll wait while you gather your belongings.
Okay, are they gone? Anyone left? At this point I'm pretty sure the only ones still reading this are the search engine spiders.
Fine. Here goes.
Dear Googlebot, I am desperately unhappy.
I'm holding Charlie in his sling right now, curving my arms uncomfortably around him so I can type without jostling him too much. He's finally fallen into an exhausted, fitful sleep, and I'm afraid that any sudden move will bring him back into squalling consciousness. He'll cry, I'll cry, he'll drop his pacifier on the floor, and I'll leak snot onto his blanket in a sun-catching stalactite of sadness.
Maybe he'll be momentarily quieted by the captivating prism effect it casts on the wall. No, that would be too much to hope for.
To put it in terms that will be easier for you to understand, Googlebot, darling, I will rephrase it: 100010101001001001110111010100110011100111011100010111010101001010011.
And furthermore, 0. And the 1 you rode in on.
I never thought having a baby would be easy. Let's get that out of the way right now. I was aware that I'd have to grow accustomed to functioning on very little sleep. We understood that our productivity would give way to the constant demands of caring for a child. I knew, or thought I did, how emotionally draining the newborn period would be. It would all be very hard; I acknowledged that. But I told myself smugly, "Even stupid people do this every day. Surely we can, too."
No, and don't call me Shirley or a complacent jackass who thought she had it all figured out. You're a fine one to talk, anyway, Googlebot, steering people here of all places when they search for terms like "pregnant cat spotting."
I don't truly know whether we have it harder than average, whether Charlie is higher maintenance, whether we're less competent or stable. It doesn't matter much, because you work with what you have. What we have is a situation that's making me feel doomed to unhappiness with no end in sight.
Oh, hey, while I have you here, Googlebot — may I call you Gooey? — do you think you could jigger things so that when people search for "little virgins" and click on a link to my site, their testicles are delivered a jolt of electricity so strong that it sears their pubes into a crumbling frizzle? And when they search for "little vergins [sic]," their partial frontal lobotomy is swiftly completed via a crackling blue bolt of lightning, all thanks to the magic of the Internet?
No? No, what? No, I may not call you Gooey?
There's the reflux, which is flaring up at the moment; Charlie cries when he tries to eat, then cries from hunger because he isn't able to. There's the fact that he simply doesn't nap, delivering no more than 30 minutes at a stretch most days, and that only grudgingly. There's the isolation, not being able to take him anywhere, and not feeling right about going out alone when it means leaving him with Paul when he's so relentlessly demanding. There's the lack of sleep, which is a minor consideration but still worth throwing on the pile, and of course the sobering responsibility of caring for a small beautiful being who cannot fend for himself. There's the unresolved grief, the shellshock, and the deep disappointment of the way Charlie came to be. And the anger, God, the anger! The anger that makes me pant like an animal, with only one thought: This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
Yeah, I could go on, but you already have about 724,000 results for "babies suck," so what would be the point?
When does it end? Everyone told Tertia things would get better at 12 weeks, and indeed they have. Although I know she had an excruciating three months, I'm sick with envy that she's enjoying motherhood while I'm still so wretched. If it's not too much trouble, could you please replace every instance of "gorgeous and divine" on her blog with "gaping, flaring asshole"?
It would make me feel so much better. Thanks. Mighty decent of you, G.Bo. (Do you like that better?)
So back to the subject at hand: when do I get to enjoy this? At eighteen weeks in, I'm hating almost all but the ten minutes every two days when Charlie is visibly happy.
If anyone but you, GooBo, were reading this, I'm pretty sure she'd be agape by now. "Wait," she'd say, furrowing her brow quizzically, "I thought having a baby was supposed to make her happy."
Yeah, that's what I thought, too.
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It will get better.
Then it will get BAD again.
Then it will get better.
It all goes in cycles.
amen
Been there too. it's bad, then it's good, then it's bad again. It's hard to take care of a baby. I was surprised how unhappy I was (and still am when I am soley responsible all day for her). You are not alone. ANd then there are those moments when all is good and happy (hmmmm when they are sleeping???)
Just recognize that you are going through what other people go through. It is normal. And it will get better. (For example, wait until you suddenly realize that Charlie hasn't spit up for an entire week ..... and his reflux is gone)
You know how you sit awake at night thinking how bloody unfair it is that after all you went through to get here being here totally sucks ass? Well so do I (and I'm sure most of us feel the same way). It makes me so mad that you don't get to enjoy this the way you should. I know you don't like it when people feel sorry for you, but I really do. And I really do think that Charlie (not that it's his fault) is the problem, not you. Have you tried getting a second opinion on HIM. It really sounds like it's more then just reflux (which my son had). Sorry that I used the word "really" so many times.
Also, you shouldn't have to defend yourself to anyone about this., If they can't tell how grateful you are to have Charlie then they are morons.
I love you. I'm sorry you're so unhappy, my lurve.
Replace "reflux" with "colic" and you've perfectly captured the first few months of my son's life. I would like to think the fact that I never actually murdered anyone who pointed out that "this was exactly what you've been wanting for three years" is a testiment to my character, but, in fact, I was simply too tired to put the effort into strangling them. Then, when my sad boy was 5 1/2 months old, the colic went away and he turned into the thing I had stopped hoping for, a happy baby.
Here's my assvice...you must get out of the house. You can't change the lack of sleep, the reflux, etc. but you can change that. You and Paul can take turns. Tuesday nights you meet a friend for a movie (or to smoke crack-it's your night!), Thursday nights are Pauls night out. If you have someone around who you trust and who can watch Charlie, go out together (just sitting quitely while eating uninterrupted will seem like a mini-vacation.)
I wish I lived closer...I'm the friend my friends trust with their howling infants because I've been through it. After 5 1/2 months of it, I could do 5 hours of it standing on my head. Plus, it's way less stressful when you know that in just a few hours you will be able to hand the baby back to it's parents. Don't feel guilty! If someone's been offering to help, let them.
Hang in there. You're doing great.
I'm sorry it's so hard for you right now. It really does suck when your expectations are hideously unmet time and time again. Some babies just don't enjoy their stay on this planet until they get a bit older. Charlie had a rough start -- maybe he's just holding a grudge? I know it's hard to imagine that there is a light at the end of this hellhole of a tunnel, so maybe the best thing you can do at this point is to dramatically lower your expectations. That way you can be happily shocked when things start looking up (they will, really, they will).
If you haven't tried it already, I've had a lot better luck with Reglan for my refluxy babies. Some doctors won't suggest it, but it really works quickly if it's going to work.
Here's my two cents:
I am a closet complainer. After years and years of fertility treatments to get to where I am (18 weeks with b/g twins) I feel I have no right to complain. Every headache, every backache, every moment of nausea, ALL OF IT - I keep saying - this is what you wanted. You should be HAPPY! All those women who haven't gotten here yet - they would be angered, appalled. And I would have been too if I heard women who got pregnant complaining.
And I know that, besides feeling like shit because things are difficult right now, I detected that note of "I have no right to complain. I should be HAPPY!"
But...
And this is a big but...
The complaining? Is the most normal part of the process we have gotten to experience so far.
Let me repeat that, louder:
COMPLAINING. MAKES. US. NORMAL.
We didn't get to have sex to get pregnant.
Some of us had multiple losses to get here.
And four bajillion procedures.
And had other women give us eggs.
And men to give us sperm.
And still other women to give us loaner uteruses.
But complaining is NORMAL. Complaining about pregnancy is normal. Wondering, once the kids are on the way, if we really want to BE parents is NORMAL.
And complaining when you are sleep deprived, and your baby is torturing you with colic, etc, is NORMAL.
Finally you can be like every other mother who simply got sneezed on, had an easy 9 months and popped one out in four minutes.
You have the right.
And I'm sorry things are shitty right now.
Cheryl, I highly doubt anything is wrong with Charlie. Just saying that puts thoughts into Julies head. Thoughts she really doesn't need right now.
Charlie is a newborn. That itself is what's wrong. Newborns are alien like beings.
It really doesn't get good until they're 6 months old. Then the teeth come and you wonder why you gave birth in the first place. ;)
Poor Julie.
If I tell you that it will get better, you probably won't believe me. My pregnancy horror stories are not as bad as yours, but we've been through hell and back three or four times [it depends on who was conscious at the time].
I remember one day--and I am NOT in way, shape or form bragging here--I looked at my four kids, aged 12 to 3 and figured that I would NEVER MAKE IT. I am talking seriously hitting bottom. And I can see that you are there. Well, friend, I have been in this hole and I know the way out.
Karen is right. You need to take some time out for you, and if you can manage it, take some time out for both of you together. Find a service if you need to, but find someone that you trust to watch your darling boy. Remember to put one foot in front of the other. Breathe, in and out, on a regular basis. Time will go by. One day you wake up and realize that it's better.
In the meantime, you have the love and support of more people than you know. God bless you and yours (even though you may or may not believe in Him).
I promise, I promise, I promise it will get better. I know that doesn't help much when you're in the middle of it but he'll be a charming, happy little boy soon. After eight years of infertility I finally gave birth to Little Prince Colic. He spent the first six months of life screaming. My husband started wearing this look that said very clearly "you've ruined my life." One day his body just finally pulled it together and now he's a bright charming five year old. (And my husband pulled it together too.) I've heard that the really difficult infants become the really bright, sensitive kids if that's any consolation. Of course, all the other infants you know sleep through the night at 2 weeks. I had a friend with a baby my son's age who was like that. I could tell she thought I was crazy, until she had baby number 2. Hang On--I know you'll get through it, you got through all the rest.
Personally, I think you need to either hire help or arrange help with your family. Please read on and don't just roll your eyes and pass this message by. I know you have the highest standards of motherhood imaginable, but household help is a major big thing. I had a nanny even though I stayed at home - okay that was triplets, but still, you have no idea what it means to have help, what it does for you as a mother.
I didn't hire help because I was a bad mother or not enough of a mother - I hired help because I was a GOOD mother who cared enough about her children to realize I have limits and it does my children no favor for me to get worn out and lose patience. I was home with my nanny, but she did the grunt work (washing bottles, doing the kids' laundry, etc.) and I was able to enjoy them more as well as get out to run errands and have me time knowing my kids were in good hands. And she was a big help on trips.
Thank about it. You'll feel like a whole new person. Even just try it for a week, although it does take time to get used to someone and show them your ways. And I wasn't one of these freaks who feels jealous of the nanny. I loved when she loved them and they loved her, I loved that my children were even more loved.
If you're still too hard on yourself to consider a nanny, at least think about some other way to arrange a few hours off every day or a few days a week. Even great mothers get burned out. Just my 2 cents. :)
*hugs*
I'm so sorry that you are going through this. The first year of my second daughter's life I thought I was going to die of sleep deprivation--or at least kill someone. I have been to the black parts of mommyhood and they are not pleasant places to be. I have been full of rage and that made me question everything I ever thought about how I would be as a mother.
Yes--take time for yourself, if at all possible. If you and your DH each take one night away, then you can't feel guilty about leaving the other one alone with the baby for a few hours the other night.
And think about seeing someone to be screened for PPD. I know that sounds like a horrible idea--but it might actually help.
You aren't doing anything wrong. Sometimes it just sucks. Try to hold on to a ray of hope.
Yep Newborn stage sucks!!!!!! I was one of those who thought it was gonna be hard, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. All I can say for you right now is that every day done gets closer to when it does get better. For me it was around 7 months! It will get better and I know that everybody is telling you that now and it is hard to believe, but it is true. And I think you are doing a great job! I have been lurking for a while now and keep on keeping on!
You are neither incompetent nor unstable. You are coping as well as you can, which is to say, with great grace and caring, and there is NO ONE ELSE in the world who would be better parents for Charlie than you & Paul.
However -- you sound physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. I have two juicy and emphatic pieces of assvice:
- FIND A BABYSITTER WHOM YOU & PAUL BOTH TRUST. For at least a few hours a week. Even if it's someone who minds the baby while you're home so you can nap, bathe, blog, or whatever. That way it's no burden on Paul to get some time to yourself and in fact the two of you might enjoy each other without the demands of the baby. Think of this as respite care.
- GET THEE TO A COMPASSIONATE MENTAL HEALTH PROFESSIONAL TO BE SCREENED FOR POST-PARTUM DEPRESSION. Preferably an M.D. with some expertise in psychopharmacology and women's health. I don't know whether or not you need ongoing professional help, but you sound depressed enough that a screening would be an excellent idea. Perhaps things will even out when your hormones finish adjusting, post-lactation, but perhaps not. Yes, your situation is rough, and you can't control Charlie's reflux or temperament or sleeping habits, but there's no harm in ruling out a lovely complementary depression. Trust me on this -- hewing to your Yankee stoicism will not serve you well here. Been there, done that (although in my case it was more of a Catholic martyrdom flavor).
Yes, this is assvice, and no, I don't know you or your situation, really. Just a couple of thoughts from someone who spent the first few months of motherhood seriously considering placing her desperately-wanted and dearly-loved miracle baby up for adoption. Seriously.
Please email me if you ever want to talk. Steer clear of the post-partum depression Internet bulletin boards -- if you weren't depressed before you visited them, you'll be despondent after reading a few posts.
As my mom says...children are a roller coaster ride full of thrills and dips. I'm so sorry you're feeling blue.
How can you be so fecking funny when you're miserable? Huh? Utterly unfair.
I'm with Liz: complain away--it's normal, you're normal (for once).
And if there's any way for you to take some time out, I hope you'll do it, if only to get us internets off your case.
--Bugs
I read your post and am so sad that you are going through this.
I don't want to be an alarmist and I know you probably don't want unsolicited advice, but I wonder if you should contact your OB or your primary care provider and arrange a visit. I worry that what you are feeling is, understandably, outside of the typical realm of feelings. Could you be suffering from post partum depression? Perhaps you have already done this or addressed this....
I just hate to see you suffer so, if there is something that might help you.
In the meantime, I'll send positive thoughts your way.
Hang in there!
Just bank on the unpredictability of the futue - maybe it's like a break-up? You feel low, you don't know when you'll feel better, it feels like there is no end in sight. Then one day, you look back and realise you feel good, feel great even - but farked if you know when that started happening or how you got there. Fingies crossed for you.
And hey, you're still funny when you feel bad! WAY JEALOUS...
Hi, Julie,
I've read your blog for some time now and this is my first time commenting since I just have to add my two cents today. My son had terrible colic and it was a complete nightmare for 3 months. He was 5 weeks early and it started the night before his due date. I about went into a tailspin when his doctor told me to be prepared for it to last longer than the magical 12 weeks due to his prematurity -- and to measure the 12 weeks from his due date. I don't remember when Charlie was due, but is he anywhere near there now? I was a complete basket case from the stress of it and was convinced that he would never be a "happy" baby, but by 5 or 6 months no one would ever believe that he spent his first 3 months screaming constantly. He's now almost 5 1/2 and has been the most laid-back, happy-go-lucky kid for years. So, there *is* light at the end of the tunnel, if you can just make it that long.
I agree with the comment that you need to try to get out of the house -- when our second child had colic, my husband and I would take shifts and life was much more bearable when I was able to get out with a girlfriend for an hour or so. And now I'm dealing with a third colicky baby, but it's much easier to handle since I get to go to yoga two nights a week. I honestly believe that if I didn't have that outlet, I'd go nuts.
Just hang in there, and know that it will get better one of these days. And I know it sounds trite, but one day you'll think back on this and not quite believe it. I have several photos of our son screaming his head off, and when I look at them now, it brings it all back, although it's hard to reconcile the happy preschooler with the desperatly unhappy screaming baby.
Anyway, good luck and be sure to take care of yourself!
Terri H
When I thought I was infertile + high risk, my friend called with the EXCITING NEWS that she was pregnant with twins THE FIRST MONTH SHE STARTED TRYING and I called my sister in hysterical tears. And my sister said, just wait, this is the fun, chasing the dream part, reality will set in and having twins on not that much money in a small apartment is kind of going to suck.
But what sucks even more is that when it takes you a long time to have a baby (and I'm always careful here because, so far, my road has been so much shorter than so many of my blogland friends) you 1) miss out on the fun part and 2) prolong this period of unrealistic dreaming about how when you have a baby, you will be happy. I think we all say that we know it will be hard, but we don't really KNOW. (I still don't know, I'm a minimum of 7 months away from knowing. Well, hopefully.) Add to that this feeling of guilt that you don't have the right to complain (about morning sickness, about a difficult baby, whatever) because isn't this what you wanted so badly and why aren't you grateful you got what you wanted when so many other people haven't yet.
All that said, it does seem like things are tougher going for an even longer period than for the average new mom, and I'm sorry. You deserve a rosy, happy time. If it makes you feel any better, I'll repeat what I replied to Paul's last entry: My mother always says that my sister was a complete angel for the first year and a giant pain in the ass ever after, whereas I was a wreck the first year (allergies, etc.) and a joy ever after. ;)
I'm hoping for you that those ten minutes of joy every two days grows and grows.
I'm rude, I didn't even finish reading the post, to be honest.. wanna know why? Because my friend I have been there, I'm still there on some day two years later.
Hi, my name is Angelia, and I have a High Needs/High Maintence Child.
While, I've not been infertile. Infertile nope not me, not always the fastest to get preg, but not infertile. So when my husbadn said he wanted a child (my third marriage his first) I thought, Hey what the hell, this will be easy, I've done it 3 times before.. OMG Was I EVER wrong.. Nothing easy about this child, not one single damn thing.. Tiptoeing around this child is a normal occurance.. I'm that mother in the store, that I used to sneer at and say if you would just beat that kids ass he would shut up.. OMG.....When he was born he was pissed and he aint stopped since. (ok well hes is getting better since he can talk a bit better now but still) anyway. My child screamed at the top of his lungs the entire time I was on the phone with my husband later in the day, The nurses said let us take this child so you may rest madam, I said sure, a break.. yes 24hrs after this childs birth I wanted a break.. No less than a hour later they brought my bouncing screaming baby boy back to me.. Saying we have rocked him, walked him, sang to him, bounced him, down circus sol lei tricks for him and have spent more time with him than any other baby in the nursery.. please take him back.. as she shoved his bassinet into the room with her foot and slammed the door behind her..I think they were afraid he would scare the other new moms...
Yes Julie, I truly understand the place you are at... It does get better, when the giggles and smiles are for real and often, when finally he gives you kisses willingly (the demon I call son just recently has decided that kisses are fun)
I would come hug you or hold charlie for you, or scream at the people who don't understand for you.. but you are welcome to email me if you need to vent
Another aussie commenting here - I'll agree with Andrea above by saying hang in there! Both you and Charlie have had such a rough start but it will get better and it should happen soon (taking into account Charlie's adjusted age for being a premie). It's just so hard at the moment and I really feel for you. Take one day at a time.
Welcome to Mommy Burnout. It will get easier, Charlie isn't 3 months adjusted yet. In the meantime, go order THE FUSSY BABY BOOK by Dr. Sears. My son is 10 months and I wish I had bought this book at the beginning, I wouldn't have been so miserable and alone and....resentful.
Because so and so's baby slept through the night at 3 months and such and such's baby hardly ever cries and it was like my baby hated existence. And at 10 months he still has never slept through the night. He 's happier now that he is mobile, but he is more demanding of his parents' attention than any baby I've ever been around. And I've been around quite a few.
Go get this book. Really.
I'm not a mother, but I am a Charlie. 30 years ago, before there were drugs like prevacid, my poor mother gave birth to a child (full-term nonetheless but conceived after a long period of infertility and being told there would be no children) who proceeded to scream for 8 solid months. It was 6 months before she was able to put me down for even a moment. We slept, when we did sleep, which was rarely, on the couch. They did give her one medication to try, but since it was phenobarbital (a seizure medication that is very sedating) all it did was knock me out to the point it scared her and she only gave me one dose. They started cereal really early trying to sooth my belly; it did not work. And my father was a useless man. So she carried me and carried me, and at times had to ptu me down and walk away in anger and frustration.
But finally the 8 months of the worst colic anyone had seen ended and I immediately started talking. I never really was a baby like she expected. But it DID get better, and she seems to like me now, although the guilt trips will continue until I die.
It will end....
Welcome to Mommy Burnout. It will get easier, Charlie isn't 3 months adjusted yet. In the meantime, go order THE FUSSY BABY BOOK by Dr. Sears. My son is 10 months and I wish I had bought this book at the beginning, I wouldn't have been so miserable and alone and....resentful.
Because so and so's baby slept through the night at 3 months and such and such's baby hardly ever cries and it was like my baby hated existence. And at 10 months he still has never slept through the night. He 's happier now that he is mobile, but he is more demanding of his parents' attention than any baby I've ever been around. And I've been around quite a few.
Go get this book. Really.
"I'm sorry, Julie, I'm afraid we can't do that."
Nobody here but us Googlebots. And Googlebot says... "if you google newborn colic premature adjusted age" you'll be offered hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll turn a corner soon. Or rather, Charlie will turn a corner, and drag you along behind us. Because wasn't he a 33-weeker?
And maybe he won't turn that corner as soon as other colicky, refluxy, babies do. And maybe you do need to talk to your doctor about the possibility of PPD. I don't know. Because I do know that screaming unappy kid plus sleep deprivation can make any woman - any person - very, very, unhappy.
I can say "hang in there" but I know that when you're on the edge of the cliff and your fingers are cramping up, what you really need is someone to catch you if you let go, or someone to grab your wrist and haul you back up over the cliff...and I wish I could do one or the other, but since I can't, I think the suggestion of getting help so you can leave the house is a good one...
Julie,
i don't know you and you don't know me, but if i could, i would glady take care of Charlie for a night or two so that you and your honey could get a decent night's sleep and maybe, just maybe, begin to remember who you both were, seperately and together,before all hell broke loose and somehow you created life.
why?
because i would want someone to do the same for me and my husband if/when we ever have a child of our own and i started to lose the last shreds of sanity that i cling to on a regular basis!
i've been reading your blog for a while... and i must say, you've got amazing stamina if it took you this long to break down and admit you're human.
i'm praying to whatever being is out there that this super-extended, holy-shit-i-think-we've-got-Rosemary's-baby rough patch is over soon, and that the little bugger is a Nobel Peace Prize winner when he grows up. He'd better remember to thank you during the acceptance speech!
Although i can't understand what you're going through, i do hope that you know it's not just the Google-bot who remembers moms and dads like you guys.
My son had reflux and colic (born three weeks early), but nursed like a champ. He finally outgrew the reflux after 6 long crappy anti-depressent-inducing months. My husband and I slept in separate beds for that time since DH would stay with the baby at night and come and get me when he needed to be fed, which doesn't seem fair, but I was teetering on the edge of leaving as my PPD was so bad.
I'm pleased to say at 6 months, things turned around considerably- once he learned to sit up at 4 months, the reflux got immensely better, and then his sleep finally adjusted. Until that point, he slept in his Graco swing in the most upright position. I also recommend putting rice cereal in his bottles, which will help weigh it down and make it harder to reflux back up- our pediatrician recommended it. Make sure you use tri-cut or similar nipple, though, or else they just get mad they can't get anything out.
At 13 months now, you'd never know he was such a PITA infant, and is a complete joy. Things will get better.
For the record, I don't think you have PPD. It doesn't hurt to get checked, but I think it's burnout. It's hard for people to understand if they haven't dealt with a baby like this. I think Sears calls them mother-killers because they are so draining and it is so hard to leave them with anyone because they can't deal with it. The book has a lot of coping methods and a lot of positive things to look forward to as this type of child gets older.
Wow... that all makes me remember my oldest with her colic and her reflux. I remember turning on Comedy Central hopeing something would make me laugh as I wore holes in the carpet walking my huge screaming baby and counting the minutes until her father got home so I could tell him to walk her and I could go hide in the bathroom for some peace and quiet.
I can look back now and see that period of time didn't last very long and thankfully that first year goes by lightening fast. It's hard to see light at the end of the tunnel when all you can focus on is a screaming baby. You'll get there. It does get better. I'm sure you know that thought. Before you know it, you and your sweet baby will be laughing together.
Two more thoughts:
Have you picked up a copy of http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0385333021/qid=1112662510/sr=8-1/ref=sr_8_xs_ap_i1_xgl14/103-2814561-0975026?v=glance&s=books&n=507846>Child of Mine yet? There's an essay in there called "Baby Blues: A Journal" or something like that. Read it. Know that you may be isolated, but you are not alone.
Do you have a stormy-weather friend or relative, the kind of person whom you could call to say that you are miserable, your baby is colicky, and you need him/her to come for a week to help care for the baby and cheer you up? If there is someone, DO IT.
If you can't reconcile yourself to getting help for your own sake, then do it for Charlie's. Babies of depressed moms don't do as well as babies of happy (medicated if necessary) moms. Your loyal Googlebot can confirm that there are studies, controlling for all other factors.
OK, that's three thoughts. And I worry that the third has a funny tone, like I can't get it to sound right in the context. It's not meant to be either patronizing or critical.
I guess I'm trying to say that it's anything but selfish to get help for what sounds increasingly like despair. Suffering isn't a virtue, nor is it its own reward. You deserve to enjoy your life as a mother.
I had (hmm have is probably more accurate since he IS still alive, somehow I haven't killed him yet and he's now 2) a high needs baby. He was 6 weeks premature (pre-eclampsia started to get too bad and they could wait no longer - thankfully he was okay).
Ryan had reflux and a narrow part in his bowels that made going to the bathroom excrutiating for him. We had a very nasty year before it all got better. His bowels grew and the narrow place is no longer an issue. The reflux has also gotten better. Though I still remember those agonizing hours and hours of crying.
It WILL get better, but it will take time. Until then, I suggest a sling or wrap (great for the walking/rocking that can help calm him) and the use of something to incline him. We had to sit Ryan up vertical to feed him and keep him there for a long time after. When he laid him down to sleep (more like when we COULD lay him down) his sleeping area was inclined to keep him as comfortable as possible. It got us a whooping 1/2 hour of quiet before he'd be up yowling again.
Have you thought he might have a dairy allergy? Once we got rid of dairy (in my diet since I pumped liked you), Ryan's reflux eased, and we had fewer crying "marathons." This was a REAL lifesaver. Ryan still cannot have dairy.
I wish you the VERY best. You've probably had TONS of useless suggestions (I sure did)...I can't believe I'm now the one spewing the useless advice... ::shudder:: forgive my horrid lapse.
It sounds like not only have you got new baby "boy is this hard", but it sounds like to quote Samantha in Sex In the City "That baby is an asshole." Oh please don't send the hate mail now. I don't mean Charlie is intentionally an asshole, I know there is nothing he can do about it- after all he is too young to go to a bar or meditate or something.
Some babies are harder than others. I had 3 pretty easy, and that means I only was wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into 15 hours a day, as compared to last one who cried a lot. And it was hard to love a child who was always pissed not only at the world, but at you.
Somehow magically, he began to take naps, and his mood improved like you wouldn't believe. I am scared to tell you what age he did this, because I don't want you to throw yourself out the window. He was 8 months.
He is still the most defiant of all my children, he turns 3 tomorrow. However, he is learning to control his temper and he is awfully sweet crawling up on my lap saying "I love you Mommy." He loves to snuggle now, something he rarely did as a baby.
Julie it will get better. You aren't a bad person because you don't enjoy taking care of a difficult baby all the time. It will get better.
He will worship you one day. He will stand in your kitchen, lean against the sink, eating cereal at 3 in the afternoon, asking you for advice about how to ask a girl to prom.
Rignt now is such a small part of mothering, but now it's all you have. It's overwhelming and it sucks, but it will get better. I hope sooner rather than later.
googlebot responds:
i'll still read you no matter how much you complain.
rainbow responds:
i'll still read you no matter how much you complain.
rainbow's wife responds:
rainbow's a shitty husband who will still read you no matter how much you complain. and it will get easier, eventually. and charlie will smile at you and love you cuz you're mom.
Oh My god. Yet again I am not alone. Minus the preemiehood you just described my first year with my son.
As another mother of another only...it definetly is on the plus side of the only factor...it is hards and its ok to be unhappy about it.
Oh My god. Yet again I am not alone. Minus the preemiehood you just described my first year with my son.
As another mother of another only...it definetly is on the plus side of the only factor...it is hards and its ok to be unhappy about it.
Sorry about the double comments....i am a flake.
I rarely post...but I just feel so bad for you. I want to tell you it will get better but that is no consolation right now. I can only tell you that I truly feel for you...even after having twins I cannot imagine what you are going thru. You should be able to enjoy him...I hope that day comes VERY soon. Like someone above said, there are times it gets easier and then hard again...but nothing will ever compare to this. Trust me.
As me to the chorus of "it will get better." It will. I promise. And the sucky parts will suck in new and different ways, so you'll always get some variety.
My daughter is now 14 months and I'm just now starting to like her a little bit. Sure, I love her and would throw myself in front of a freight train for her if necessary but I haven't liked her all that much. Staggering, soul searing resentment is pretty much the emotion that had been front and center until about two months ago. She didn't sleep, wouldn't eat, had an endless array of difficulties, communicated by grunting or shrieking and was/is capable of screaming for six hours straight for no apparent reason.
And now? She's still intense but somewhere along the line she learned to giggle, relax herself into a nap, hug me while cooing "aawwww" into my ear, offer me a cookie during her snack and basically just stop being the kind of annoying person I'd have cut out of my life long ago if I hadn't given birth to her.
My recommendation: See if you can con a neighborhood teen into coming over for 45 minutes or so (anyone can take it for 45 minutes) while you run to a bookstore for a blackberry soda and a glance at the newest Tatler. Seriously. 45 minutes, in and out. You'll hate it at first and will feel guilty as sin but eventually it'll be fine. And Charlie will be fine, too.
Forgive me for reiterating every single comment from above:
 You are normal.
 It will get better.
You have it extra tough with Charlie's struggles at birth and your own struggles at birth. And, um, the struggles in every minute, hour, week, month, year leading up to it.
I cried at least 3 times a day (like, heaving sobs here) for the first 3 months. It tapered down to 2 good cries for a few months after that. And it's still at about one cry a day (I mean, the anti-smoking commercial with the phantom grampa is really sad).
(and this may just be me here, but I used to get so pissed at my husband because he didn't cry. Didn't need to. He was stressed, but he wasn't a basket-case like me. He still had enough energy to be comforting...and it made me feel all the more inadequate.)
But it's better. It is. They aren't helpless lumps forever. And the good moments start to give the bad moments a run for their money.
And you cry less. And you sleep more. And you accept babysitting offers more (start to seek them out, even).
You can do it. Cry when you need to. Then enjoy your baby. Then leave him with a friend for a few hours while you go to a movie theater and eat slimy buttered popcorn. And then come home and hug him and cry a little more.
It will probably get better (a) when Charlie is 12 weeks old adjusted, which means, um, 23 weeks and (b) when Charlie can sit up himself and that helps the reflux. He'll learn to sit up by himself faster if you are diligent with the tummy time (start out for as many seconds as he can take/not throw up, laying him across a wacky noodle--the kind marketed for swimming fun--with the noodle at nipple height, and then dangle something in front of his face and around to his peripheral vision to get him working on the head muscles), if you set him up inside a boppy, and if you go away and leave him with his daddy.
Oh, wait, that last bit was for you. And speaking from one NICU mom to another, when you do go away and leave him with his daddy, get yourself to a therapist who knows about grief, anger, and parenting. And possibly medications. And also, if you go out to a baby store while you've left your baby with daddy, be prepared to have a panic attack and need to drive right home. It's okay, it will pass.
Julie, I love you, and many more people you don't know love you, and we're always thinking about you. Yes, this newborn crap is hard and will probably continue to be hard for some time, but I think the most important thing you have done is express that feeling here. Online. When you know full well that the trolls are going to come a-trolling just to bite you with the "but you HAVE a baby, you SHOULD be happy and shut up". By telling us how you feel, you have opened the door to let all of us help you and let you know you're not alone. You admitted, first to yourself, then to others, that This Is Not Fun At All. Being able to say that is probably the hardest part of all this. Now, you can hear all we have to say and feel all the good cuddly vibes we have to send, and know that sometimes, shit does suck and eventually, it does get better.
Thinking of you.
Heather
Well here's the thing. People say 6 weeks. And then they say 3 months. And I'm guessing that things are a TEENY bit better than they were when you first brought your tiny dude home. But I say that the honeymoon phase really can't start until they sleep through the night. Until then I'd just keep on keepin' on. It's unjust. The IVF ones should be the good sleepers but they seem to suck at it as much or more than the rest. The gods like us to suffer a little extra. You know that. But when your bad little sleeper finally does the deed and the clouds part oooh is it gonna feel good. And you'll be so proud of him. It's coming deary. Until then...well...you know. Hang in there. Vent. Make Paul do stuff. Like you're doing.
I'm so glad you wrote this. You managed to capture the feelings I had with my first child to a freaking T. He wasn't a preemie, but he was not an easy or a happy baby. I can distinctly remember thinking I would like to flush him down the toilet. One day when he was about Charlie's age and I'd had it up to here with the crying I just screamed, "SHUUUUUUUUUTTTTT UUUUUUUUUUPP," as loud as I could, which of course made him cry even more. To this day, I still feel guilty about that shut up. I've probably done plenty of horrific things in the name of motherhood with all of my children, but the memory of that shut up still lingers TWENTY ONE YEARS LATER. But good gawd, that constant crying, crying, crying.
Anyway, apparently I was the same way as a baby, and my mother's fondest wish that I would someday have a child just like me came true. In spades. (Of course need I mention that he is beautiful, hilarious and a genius?) But I digress...
Don't beat yourself up for feeling the way you do. I liken the first few months with a manic, er, fussy newborn to a bout of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. As everyone has said, it WILL get better, although I know that's no consolation now. And it doesn't matter how many IVFs you had or how many miscarriages you lived through, or how long you waited for a baby. It's still nerve-wracking, gut-wrenching, and any other hyphenated cliche you can think of. I don't care if the Blessed Mother herself popped out of a cloud and dropped the kid on your doorstep on a golden pillow. A crying baby is hard to take.
If you want to feel better go watch Super Nanny on TV tonight. Now THERE'S some screwed up parents. Hang in there, kid.
Delurking to agree with everyone else who said:
1. Motherhood sometimes sucks in soul-crunching ways you couldn't possibly imagine.
2. You are ALWAYS allowed to complain about it. That's how we stay sane, here in Mamaland.
When my son was that age, we used to sing little ditties to him about how we were going to sell him to the gypsies if he couldn't get his little baby shit together.
Wishing you less baby shit and more baby smiles.
When will it end? I don't know. But it will. And of course you don't like his behavior right now--incessant screaming and relentless demands are NOT likeable! But it's clear you love him, and as the balance shifts in favor of more peace and fun/happy moments, you will reap your long-awaited rewards.
I had a difficult delivery w/my daughter, fraught with near-fatal maternal complications and a horrible recovery period. I know now that a lot of my anger and disappointment with the screaming-infant-period was exacerbated by that post-traumatic stress phenomenon; I was so busy trying to take care of her that I didn't have time to go through the stages of dealing with the scary, difficult medical ordeal I'd been through, and was stuck with simmering anger. Please do take time to be alone, and to be alone with Paul, to give fair play to your own needs. They DO matter.
And thank you for your continued honesty--there are so many parents who will feel relief, and less alone, just reading what you've had the guts to write.
Jan
Dear G-d woman. My heart aches for you. Get thee to a
nunnerydoctor. In a nice way. Nobody deserves to be that sad.I can't add anything that hasn't been said yet. But let me repeat the message -- you are not alone. All of us who have children -- regardless of how/when we had our babies and whether they were easy or hard -- have been where you are right now. Raising a baby is hard work, period. And, add a fussy/high needs/colicky baby to the mix and its a wonder that any of us get through it.
But get through it we do. How? We get help -- we find people to come and hold the baby so that we can go out of the house ANYWHERE and get some needed alone time. We put the baby down for a nap and pour ourselves a glass of wine. We hand the baby over to our spouse, our mother, our neighbor, even the crib, just so we can take a 15 minute break to lay down and close our eyes. And finally, eventually, we ease up on ourselves and realize that motherhood isn't everything that its cracked up to be -- even after we discounted our fantasies to account for what we believed the realities of caring for a newborn to be.
So, hang in there. It will get better. Babies do get easier. In the meantime, don't carry the burden all yourselves. I've always believed that one can't be a good parent if you don't first take care of yourselves. So whatever it is you need to do, go and do it. And don't feel guilty. As the responses to your post should demonstrate, there are many, many, many of us out there who have been where you are now -- you are not alone.