Screw You, Reflux!

self insemination kit

Jan. 6, 2023

Screw you, Reflux. You have caused so much pain to my sweet little girl, my precious angel. How could anyone suspect the struggles hidden behind her baby cries? Because of you, she was labeled the “problematic baby,” “the fussy one,” and “the constant crier.” But I knew — I could hear the joyous laughter trapped within her wails.

To be completely honest, there were days when I found it hard to feel the love I should for my little bundle of joy. After hours spent shushing, bouncing, and dealing with endless crying, joy became a distant memory. Tender moments were few and far between. Stolen kisses, tiny toes to nibble, and those sweet breastfeeding snoozes felt like a luxury we could no longer afford. Our days were filled with battles, and my beautiful baby girl fought hard for breath, food, and sleep, all because of you.

Screw you, Reflux, for stealing our sleep. As night fell, my husband and I would don our metaphorical armor. Our little one would start to squirm and fuss before erupting into full-blown wails. No amount of soothing could keep the tide of anguish at bay.

During the day, we managed to cope as long as I held her close. But once darkness descended, your power would overshadow us. How many nights did we march our screaming baby around the yard, hour after hour? We did it for the faint hope that it might ease her cries, giving us a purpose to hold onto when everything felt hopeless. How many times did I finally stop, collapsing into tears while holding my howling baby? Too many to count. She would scream until she had no strength left, finally succumbing to a fitful sleep. Yet even then, the night was a restless one; she would choke, gag, and cry, finding solace only on my chest while I sat upright in bed. We didn’t sleep for months. I was utterly exhausted. So very exhausted. Screw you, Reflux.

Screw you, Reflux, for making me feel so isolated. I felt trapped in my own home. Where could I go? My baby cried everywhere — in the car, at the store, and even at the doctor’s office. No one could babysit her because she only wanted me. I couldn’t even step away for work without hearing her screams echo in my mind. Thus, I stopped leaving. I became tethered to my crying baby.

When I reached out to share my struggles, only a few truly understood. Trite comments hardened my heart. I grew wary of hearing about how “this is just a phase” or “it’s worth it for such a precious child.” I felt incredibly alone.

Even when I managed to meet friends, I couldn’t help but feel envy as I watched other new moms with their calm, cooing babies. I regretted that my child was struggling and felt guilty for harboring such thoughts. I was her only support, yet even I considered giving up. I wished for a different baby. Screw you, Reflux.

Screw you, Reflux, for attempting to rob me of my year, my baby’s infancy, my relationship, and my peace of mind. You underestimated our strength. You thought you could defeat us. But today marks a new beginning, a fresh chapter as we move toward a life free from your grasp.

Still, your scars run deep. The dream of a third child has dimmed. My husband and I can’t fathom another year under your oppressive weight. But that’s okay. My family is beautiful just as it is.

My little girl, once a screaming bundle of distress, is beginning to flourish. She is beautiful, happy, and healthy. She melts my heart, and her resilience is a shield I hope she carries throughout her life. Screw you, Reflux, for trying to break her. Screw you for attempting to break me.

You didn’t succeed. Instead, you strengthened me. I learned to fight — through worry, fatigue, and sorrow. I became her advocate. “No” was no longer an option. We consulted numerous doctors until we finally found the answers we needed. I read, researched, and armed myself with knowledge. This was a battle I couldn’t afford to lose.

When I thought I couldn’t march another step, I found the strength to keep going. With time, lots of medication, a frenectomy, countless baby gadgets, and even a certified sleep consultant, we are still standing — and thriving.

Now, laughter fills our home more than screams. I’ve even started to wean her off some of the medication. We’ve enjoyed a few peaceful nights and reached milestones that once felt unreachable. We survived. While I still flinch at every cry and my heart races at the slightest hiccup, we are finally looking ahead. So from the depths of my heart: Screw you, Reflux.

For more insights on navigating parenthood, check out our other blog posts at Home Insemination Kit, and consider visiting Healthline for excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination. If you’re interested in learning about DIY options, Make a Mom offers valuable information on at-home insemination kits.

In summary, while Reflux tried to steal our joy and peace, we emerged stronger and more resilient. Our little girl is blossoming, and I now have hope for the future.