Dear Little One,
Last night was another symphony of your cries that echoed through our home for hours. I cradled you in my arms, swaying gently in wide circles around the living room, my bare feet creating a familiar groove in the floorboards—a telltale sign of every mom who has dealt with a colicky baby. Sleep? What’s that? It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve both had a decent rest, and I can feel your frustration and fatigue as clearly as my own.
There’s so much I want to express to you, my tiny bundle of joy. Despite your small stature, my heart is overflowing with emotions and my mind is racing with a whirlwind of thoughts. As a new mom, I often feel like I should have an arsenal of wisdom on how to soothe you. But honestly, I have no clue why you’re crying so intensely; this isn’t a typical cry. All I know is that I would move mountains to ease your discomfort.
Are you in pain? This question spirals through my mind, igniting a storm of imaginary fears that only heighten my panic. I’ve tried everything—rocking, long drives, lullabies, and gentle back rubs—but nothing seems to work. Your cries persist, relentless and piercing.
When I cry, it’s not out of anger or frustration, although those feelings do sneak in at times. I cry because it breaks my heart to see you so exhausted and uncomfortable. Your little face turns red, and your tiny hands clench in distress, sending alarm bells ringing in my mind.
I call the pediatrician yet again. They assure me this is merely a phase and that there’s little I can do. “Have you tried lullabies or rocking?” they ask. I attempt to convey my worry, insisting that your screams, which escalate to a raw pitch, can’t possibly be “just a phase.” They tell me to “keep an eye on it” and to reach out if things worsen, insisting all new moms experience this.
After hanging up, I hold you close, feeling your little breaths against my chest. I want to assure you that it will all be alright. Maybe colic is just a fleeting phase. Maybe I’m being overly cautious. After all, I carried you for nine months. But when I hear those agonizing cries, I know deep down this is not something to simply monitor. I need to take action and find a way to alleviate your discomfort.
So we embark on this sleepless journey together. I adjust your feeding routine, try to burp you more effectively, incorporate drops to soothe you, and even change my diet to make my breastmilk gentler on your tummy. Time blurs, one month fades into another, and slowly, but surely, the storm begins to pass.
You start to sleep on my chest instead of wailing, and I feel your little hand curl around my finger instead of clenching in pain. My love for you knows no bounds, and I would traverse any distance to lull you to sleep.
I wish to tell you all of this, my sweet child. But above all, I want you to know that I love you deeply, without condition.
If you find yourself struggling with a colicky baby, remember you’re not alone. For more insights, check out this video from another mom sharing her experience. If your little one is crying excessively and showing signs of tummy discomfort, gassiness, or fussiness, it may indicate difficulty digesting milk. Consider using Colief Infant Digestive Aid—given before feedings—it contains a natural ingredient that helps break down lactose in breast milk or formula, making it easier for your baby to digest. Before making drastic changes like switching formulas or giving up breastfeeding, try Colief Infant Digestive Aid to see if it alleviates your infant’s colic-related crying.
For more tips on navigating this journey, don’t forget to explore our other blog posts, including one on home insemination here. And if you’re looking for trusted resources, check out March of Dimes, which offers valuable information on pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, while the challenges of colic can feel overwhelming, remember that you are not alone in this journey. With patience, love, and the right support, brighter days are ahead.