After the arrival of our first child, my partner and I basked in the joy of new parenthood for several blissful weeks. We felt invincible, ready to tackle whatever challenges came our way. Having spent nine months devouring parenting books, we were well-versed in cloth diapers, baby food preparation, and the intricacies of car seat installations. We even thought we were prepared for future hurdles like discipline, losing teeth, and navigating the dating scene with our little one.
But then came that fateful night. Our infant son began to cry—not just a gentle whimper, but a heart-wrenching wail that escalated into gasping sobs. His face turned crimson, and his tiny hands flailed about in distress. It was unbearable. Naturally, we panicked and checked for signs of illness or injury, but found nothing. We tried rocking, singing, and even driving around the neighborhood, yet nothing seemed to help—absolutely nothing.
We initially thought it was a one-off incident, but soon realized we were mistaken. Our poor baby was suffering from colic, and the crying persisted for three long months. Imagine enduring excessive, loud crying for hours each day, all while battling sleep deprivation. I heard that the sounds of an infant’s cries are even used to train Navy SEALS to endure torture. Seriously.
Colic rattled our household and shook our confidence in understanding our child’s needs. Our plans for a consistent sleep schedule were tossed aside as we desperately tried to soothe our little one. When I called our pediatrician to express my concerns, I was met with the assurance that this was a typical phase of infancy known as colic. Normal?! I thought. There was nothing normal about the agonizing sounds my son was making for hours on end. “You’ll look back and laugh at this,” the nurse chuckled. I hung up feeling like a failure.
In my exhaustion and desperation for answers, I turned to Facebook mom groups. I joined so many that I lost track as I searched for the elusive solution to my child’s crying. Some mothers suggested eliminating dairy from my diet, claiming lactose was the culprit. Others insisted formula was the real enemy and would only worsen colic. One mom even tried to sell me an amber-beaded necklace, claiming it had magical properties to calm babies—no thanks. It seemed finding genuine help online was a lost cause.
The relentless crying continued to drain us. My partner and I took turns pacing the floor, bouncing and shushing our baby for hours. We swaddled him tightly, used Moby Wraps, rubbed essential oils on his back, gave him warm baths, played calming music, and exchanged worried glances. The colic was relentless.
What hurt the most was that no one seemed to acknowledge how tired and anxious we were about our son. The hours of screaming and fussiness, despite our best efforts to comfort him, frightened us. Shouldn’t this be taken seriously? It felt as though everyone treated colic as merely an expected annoyance that would eventually fade away, only to be replaced by the next stage of parenthood—like picky eating or the terrible twos. But I knew my baby was in distress, and it was gut-wrenching to feel powerless to help him.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the colic subsided, and our baby settled into a predictable sleep routine. While the underlying truth about parenthood being an adventure of navigating one challenge after another held true, I never forgot the isolation and fear I felt during that time. Colic is an experience that stays with you.
Parents don’t need to hear that breastfeeding is a mistake or that formula is harmful, or that “it’s just a phase.” When grappling with colic, the phrase “this is just a phase” is the least helpful thing to say. Moms and dads in the thick of it need validation for their fears and frustrations, reassurance that they are not alone in their feelings of exhaustion and inadequacy.
Though I now understand that my son’s colic would not have lasting effects, having just one person acknowledge our struggle could have made a world of difference. So, please, if you encounter a parent dealing with colic, refrain from saying it’s merely a phase. That’s the last thing they need to hear.
If you’re seeking more information about colic and its effects, consider checking out this excellent resource on pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re exploring fertility options, this link provides valuable insights.
For parents in the throes of colic, remember, you are not alone.
Summary:
Colic can be a challenging and isolating experience for new parents. It’s essential to validate their feelings and struggles rather than dismiss them as a normal phase. Acknowledging the severity of colic and the exhaustion it brings can make a significant difference in a parent’s journey.