The witching hour is back. What appeared to be an improvement with Zantac has disappeared. At this moment she is screaming in her crib while I take a momentary break to keep my sanity. She is hoarse from crying most of the afternoon. She did sleep a lot this morning and a bit this afternoon (interspersed with crying). She fights her sleep. I try to make sure not to keep her awake too long between sleep sessions: she wakes hungry, she gets fed, changed, played with a very short time, and as soon as she shows drowsy signs, I try to soothe her. It worked a little earlier in the afternoon, though she would not sleep in her crib alone more than 30-40 minutes. However, as the afternoon progressed the crying increased. She thrashes in my arms whether swaddled or not. She does not respond to soft humming or soft or loud shushing sound. She will calm momentarily and start to drift into sleep and then become alert and start crying, screaming, and thrashing while in my arms. If my friend had not come over to visit today and spell me a little while I think I’d be screaming and thrashing right now too.
It’s manifestly clear that she’s exhausted. She’s fed, clean, dry, held lovingly. She is not ill. I’m helpless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help her get sleep. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m alienated. I’m having a hard time focusing on empathy for her and letting go of my ego-driven desire to have a child who is more convenient and less a mystery. Less challenging. Less difficult. I’m having difficulty keeping her company whatever she is going through. In this moment I do not want this relationship, this job, this vocation of mothering and motherhood. I’m insecure and scared and have standards I can’t live up to. And I plain don’t like being helpless and ignorant and watching someone I love suffer.
I’m going to leave comments open, but please, no advice, or suggestions that start with Have you tried….
I think I need help. I need extra hands and arms and someone who has experience being a parent. I’m going to talk with Husband about asking his mother to come back. She’s coming for Christmas December 20-30, and I feel like asking more is an imposition and also a sign that at 44 I still can’t fucking handle responsibility, and am shying away from being a grown-up, and that I had no business procreating. And oh my, this is my life now, and the rest of my life.
I don’t care if you’re 144, motherhood is a shock. And I have no advice. I figure this out everyday. 90% of the advice given me didn’t/doesn’t work. Why would it? Each of us is unique and our children our unique and our situations are unique. Plenty of moments come of–I don’t want this gig. I can’t do this gig.
This is a random thought and probably off base, but I wonder if those of us who had to fight to come into our own–back when we were younger–just have more trouble giving some of ourselves up. Not that everyone doesn’t have an amount of trouble, but you struggled a long time to be the person you wanted…why wouldn’t it be maddening to feel pulled back?
love you.
Bless you, Marta, for this comment. Especially the random thought, which is on-base, I think!
Your wish for extra hands seems perfectly reasonable to me, and hardly an admission of weakness–the nuclear family is a relatively modern phenomenon for our species.
call it “The Full Catastrophe”. With bacon on the side.
count me as another that doesn’t think asking for help is a shirking of responsibility or an admission of failure. I think colicky babies are one of the most difficult trials there is, and it’s bad for both you and the baby if you Go It Alone until you’re a frayed rope end. whether it’s full-on assistance or just regular spells to dejangle your nerves, help right now could help you feel (and be!) in a better state to face the rest of the long stretch of motherhood, rather than your finding yourself alienated in a way that outlasts the crying…
hugs and good wishes.
Kathryn, Don’t feel bad about asking for help. We weren’t meant to raise kids by ourselves(just mother and father). We were meant to raise kids in a social, extended family setting.
I think you need help too. I think it’s the epitome of responsibility to admit that.
And don’t you hate advice like “it’ll pass” when you’re thinking, “but right now, it’s happening?” Gah! š
Marta – your comment has meaning for me too as I raise my teenagers. Thanks for that.
My husband and I always figured it was three hands per child. We did ok until the second child, and then we were outnumbered….