When my baby cries, it’s almost supper time and I’m trying to get some meat thawing in the microwave. My toddler is hangry, bored, and missing Daddy. When my baby cries, I attempt to brown hamburger while my toddler follows at my feet whining “Hold me, Mommy. Mommy, hold me. Mommy!”
When my baby cries, she starts off with a soft whining sound that slowly builds to full throttle and stays that way. For a few hours. My blood pressure follows the same pattern.
When my baby cries, I lose my cool with my toddler for being a toddler. I get snippy and snarky with my husband for trying to be helpful.
When my baby cries, my thoughts bat around in my brain. I can’t think straight. Overwhelm cripples coherent thoughts.
When my baby cries, I research every possible cause, consider every possible solution, and consult the experts. I analyze my diet and stress over the fact that it could be dairy, soy, casein, eggs, caffeine or gluten. I cry because I’m picky eater and have no idea what I will eat if I have to change my diet for my baby. Other moms have changed their diets. I feel selfish and guilty so I cry harder.
When my baby cries, I inspect her diaper for evidence of a food intolerance or allergy. None. There never is. And she hardly ever spits up.
When my baby cries, I hear voices of other moms who have it figured out. Who selflessly and completely changed their diets and that worked for them. Who swear their kid was a new baby after just one chiropractic adjustment. Who used just the right blend of essential oils and it calmed their baby right down. Who used gas drops or gripe water and highly recommend it. I appreciate the suggestions but when nothing works, I get so discouraged. What am I doing wrong? What am I missing?
When my baby cries, I feel every single wail way down deep. When she hurts, I hurt. I am willing to do anything and try everything to help her.
But, when my baby cries, I remember that with her brother the only thing that worked was time. By 3 or 4 months, it was over. The crying stopped. I find this fact both encouraging and discouraging. There is a light at the end of the tunnel but there’s a long road up ahead.
So, when my baby cries, I’ll try all of the stuff. But I know, most likely, I’m already doing the only thing I can do. Holding her tight, singing her songs, just letting her know I’m there.
And when my baby cries, I’ll probably cry, too. But that’s OK. It’s my job. I’m her mom.
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