The thing about colic, I thought as the morning sun hit my burning eyes, is that the rest of the world won't cut you a break, no matter how little sleep you got last night. Life goes on, and so I slowly peeled myself away from the sleeping form of Sophia and dragged myself out to the kitchen. I heard the boys' voices making their raucous way up the stairs, and I closed my eyes, feeling both incapable of dealing them and sick-guilty for feeling that way.
The thing about colic, I thought last night, as I walked and walked and walked and rocked and bounced and swayed and hummed and sang and walked, is that you can't do anything while you wait for it to pass. It's hard to hear the TV over the crying, you can't sit down at the computer, and there is no way on this earth I could have focused even on a magazine. It leaves my mind too free, in the dark of the night, to think about all the other things I can't change either. I walked and walked and thought about my parents, and their parents, and Clay's parents and the pain each of them faces. I wished I could save Mom and Dad from having to deal with all the losses that come with the job of walking with their parents toward the end. To take away the grief that smacks them down again and again, leaves them with that stunned sadness. I wished I could spirit Connie and Larry away from the realities of chemotherapy, which is a stupid thing to wish, when it is saving Larry's life. It just seems like such a harsh savior, and I wish they could be here instead, Larry soaking up the sun on the porch, Connie sitting on our couch, holding Sophia, and soaking up granddaughter.
The thing about colic, I thought as I tried to convince Clay to leave me to this mid night journey, is that it leaves each of us alone in one way or another. Clay had done more than his share of hours of walking, and he had to get up for work in the morning, and so I told him to go to bed, go sleep, there's no reason for us both to be awake. And I meant it, I really did, except he couldn't believe me because tears were pouring down my cheeks like melting wax, and as much as I wanted to save Sophia from the misery that tied her into a writhing knot in my arms, Clay wanted to save me too. And nobody, not one of us, could have what they wanted most.
The thing about colic, I thought as I brought Sophia to my shoulder, is that I have nothing to answer this need. It's my job, as mom, to find the answers. But I don't have any. And so I walked and walked and walked and rocked and bounced and swayed. One hand patted the tight concave of her back, her legs scrabbled against me and her downy head bobbed against my shoulder. My head echoed with her breathy wail until I didn't know if I was hearing her cry or remembering her cry, but I knew it would take hours for the sound of it to drain away.
The thing about colic is that it just...is.
I'm so sorry all of you are going through that. I imagine you have done and would do anything to cure the colic, but I hope you keep looking for answers. If you are breastfeeding, have you eliminated dairy from your diet? That seems to be a huge culprit. I'll leave you with one link and then keep my unrequested advice to myself:
http://www.askdrsears.com/html/8/t083301.asp
You have my sympathies!
Posted by: Angela | May 04, 2009 at 11:56 PM
Big hugs, and I hope you and yours get a good sleep soon.
Posted by: Linda Sherwood | May 05, 2009 at 04:34 AM
The thing about colic is that it sucks hairy donkey balls. Full stop.
You're welcome.
Love to you, darling. The other thing about colic is that it goes away eventually, but everything is worse when you're exhausted. *patpatpat*
Posted by: Mir | May 05, 2009 at 05:47 AM
The thing about colic is that it truly does suck. The thing about colic is that it seems as if it will never stop. The thing about colic is that when Mommy is tired and can't function, the other members of the household also can't function. The thing about colic is that nothing seems to make it better. The thing about colic is that one day, Sophia will wake up and it will be gone. Sorry Sophia has it. Hope it goes away soon.
Posted by: Michelle | May 05, 2009 at 06:06 AM
I'm so, so sorry you are going through this. My first had colic. My husband was never home (working 80 hour weeks) and I thought I would die of misery.
It ends. And when it does, you will finally be able to get to know your beautiful daughter.
Posted by: Anjali | May 05, 2009 at 06:43 AM
Oh, poor baby and poor mommy! This, too, shall pass, but in the meantime, it's the pits for all concerned.
This blogger has a good post about colic and probiotics. Check her out at www.fourtimesthefun.blogspot.com and check posting on 10/29/07. In case I got something wrong in the address, her blog is called Triplets Plus One = Four Times the Fun. I hope it will help you out and/or give you something to think about.
While you are rocking/walking Miss Sophia, don't forget to inhale that wonderful new baby smell. That smell can STILL get my ovaries longing for a new baby and I'm waaayyy past the age for that!
A grammy quilter who loves your blog.
Posted by: Grammy Quilter | May 05, 2009 at 07:44 AM
Poor Sophia! Poor you! I hear you re: the chemo, too. My mother-in-law's going through it now, and it's brutal. Potentially lifesaving, yes, but it sucks to watch someone you love undergo such a harsh treatment.
I hope the colic goes away soon.
Posted by: Aimee | May 05, 2009 at 08:21 AM
Both of my girls had colic so I feel your pain. I wish I had some good advice but I don't. I hope things settle down soon.
Posted by: Michelle | May 05, 2009 at 09:10 AM
I am going through that now as well:
http://moss-place.stblogs.org/archives/2009/04/im-such-an-ingr.html
I've had 6 with colic...
Posted by: Pansy Moss | May 05, 2009 at 11:17 AM
that feeling of helplessness is the worst. I hope you both get some sleep soon.
Posted by: Laura | May 05, 2009 at 11:37 AM
Ugh! I'm leaping out of lurkdom to say I EMPATHIZE! And I'm so sorry! Colic is such a pain. My first had it, and I swear, there were some times that I thought I was going to just set her on the back porch and leave her there for the day!
Posted by: Karate Mom | May 05, 2009 at 12:36 PM
My two boys both had colic which was diagnosed as acid reflux. They eventually got on the right dose of the right medicine (in their cases, pepcid) and by the time they reached six months were weaned off it. Check with your pediatrician on this. It was so awful until we found the right medication.
Posted by: Tux Mom | May 05, 2009 at 12:41 PM
Ah, but you can tuck this experience away for when she's older and gets all angsty on you. "Do you have any idea how many nights I spent walking the floor with you?"
Really, though, I wish you sleep.
Posted by: Heidi | May 05, 2009 at 02:11 PM
Ugh- colic. Mine had that bad, too. I swear to you, though that "The Happiest Baby on the Block" DVD saved our lives (mine, hers and my husband's) It really did help A LOT.
Hope she grows out of it soon. : )
Posted by: Jill W. | May 05, 2009 at 08:20 PM
Oh, I remember that SO well. And you have written about it beautifully. Hoping you find some relief (and sleep) soon!
Posted by: Jen | May 06, 2009 at 06:56 AM
My daughter had colic also. As soon as I stopped breast-feeding and got her on soy formula, it went away. She was just as happy and content as she could be. In hindsight, I should have cut all dairy out of my diet and kept breastfeeding, but after 3 1/2 months of pacing and bouncing, I wasn't thinking too clearly.
This too shall pass....
Posted by: Caren | June 11, 2009 at 02:32 PM