When I explain to people that we have “sleep issues” with Abigail, I think they get the wrong idea.
Abigail sleeps. But only on us. That isn’t an exaggeration. I’ve gotten sly about her napping – after I know she’s gotten a solid hour and a half, I put her down in any number of contraptions we’ve purchased in the hopes she’ll hang for at least another 30 minutes so I can get some things done. Like eating. Or showering. Or using the bathroom.
I’ve considered it a great accomplishment, and it’s helped me get through our day, but it’s not really practical.
I should be able to put my own kid down without her screaming. Because it’s not just putting her down to sleep – I can’t put her into any contraption to sit or lie happily when I know she’s been fed, burped, cleaned and loved. There is never a moment where she won’t scream and cry if we aren’t holding her.
It was this that led us to the doctor for the reflux treatment last week – my friend Coleen mentioned that babies who refuse to lie on their backs often have reflux issues. It also isn’t an exaggeration to say that upon hearing this, and subsequently realizing she had a host of other silent reflux signs, that I felt as though the heavens opened up. She would be a different kid! I could maybe put her down!
She is a bit different, no doubt. But she’s still fussy after a feeding, which shouldn’t be. And she still won’t be put down. Well, at least until last night – for the first time ever, she slept in her crib. And I mean for stretches longer than 30 minutes. And when she woke up after sleeping for about four hours, she had a bottle, listened to some lullabies and cuddled in my lap, got swaddled and fell asleep listening to some white noise – specifically some vacuum noise we downloaded yesterday – and then I put her back down where she slept for another two hours.
It was glorious, and I slept in my bed, with my husband, and it couldn’t have come at a better time.
Last night I headed to my friend Jamie’s house. I couldn’t take … whatever it was I couldn’t take. Truth be told, I haven’t been handling any of this particularly well. The overwhelming feelings I’ve had are all “normal” to some degree, of course, but it’s cold comfort when you’re in the thick of it and everyone stares back at you blankly when they realize it’s not really sleep deprivation you’re talking about – you’re talking about a baby who refuses to at all be put down, unless she’s already been dead asleep for more than an hour, leaving you pretty much trapped day and night.
And oh doesn’t it make a person feel like a shining example of motherhood to refer to my child as “trapping” me but it’s true. And with each passing day it’s gotten more stressful as the tools I used to get some relief – a walk in the stroller, a trip to see friends in the car, being strapped into the wrap – were refused outright, too. There has been a lot of crying, a lot of me wishing there were more than a tiny handful of brief moments of happiness, a lot of me wondering if no, really, maybe I shouldn’t have done this.
As Jamie said to me last night, “It shouldn’t be this hard.”
And I agree. It shouldn’t be. It should be hard, but it shouldn’t be to this degree, even at only six weeks in. There should be some pockets of joy in her waking moments, and there really aren’t. I’m not looking for her to do a cancan, just maybe not scream because I’m not holding her. My poor baby girl just never seems at all happy.
Although a baby doing the cancan would be pretty funny.
Last night was a light at the end of the tunnel – maybe the treatment is beginning to work, maybe she is hitting the six-week mark and is just less fussy and more agreeable. Right now Abigail is lying on her back, on her play mat, happy as can be, so maybe. Just the same, we’re going to talk about this with our pediatrician during her appointment on Tuesday since none of this is normal and if she has something more serious wrong with her, or needs a change in dosage of her reflux medication, we want to know.
Right now I feel like a new woman. We slept, Abigail is in a great mood, and neither one of us is having to hold her to keep her from screaming. We might even be able to start really understanding her moods since there is a chance she’ll have ones besides super hungry and super pissed off. I mean, just seeing her hang out and coo and look around at nothing is something we haven’t experienced.
At. All. She doesn’t just sit there and be.
Seeing our kid happy, not to mention being able to drink a cup of coffee and type on my computer, is probably the best feeling I’ve had in weeks.
God, let it last.
The first 100 days are the most difficult. Thank goodness you don’t have another toddler at home who needs your attention as well. Hang in there.
Oh, Erin. You’ve had it rough, and it’s still rough, and it’s not fair. I can give you lots of platitudes about six weeks being a turning point, or the medication working, or whatever, but I don’t know squat. I know you’re trying really hard, and at some point Abigail will come around and the good times will start to make up, in some small part, for the bad times. I hope that point comes soon. Thank you for writing it, so that everyone can read it.
I hope you find the light at the end of the tunnel. Six weeks was an important turning point for us.
Also, we found that our baby slept really well in her cradle-swing — the Fisher Price one that goes side to side, not just front to back. It was a miracle, and often the only way we could get her to nap for the first four months. For a while I worried we’d have to make a giant one for her when she outgrew the weight limit — but she outgrew it and in the early months, it was truly a life-saver.
Good luck. I am sending you so much positive energy from NYC.
I should have told you! TJ was a perfect jackass for a few weeks even after the reflux diagnosis and the Zantac. He got better, and so will Abigail. Hang in there!
My little guy was a screamer/crier. Unlike Abigail, he didn’t have reflux and he did sleep alone in his co-sleeper, but when he was awake? A lot of crying; not much cooing or happy infant time. God, I was jealous of those babies/moms. He was only really happy when we were walking around jiggling him. That gets tiring and we did stumble upon a less aerobic option: lying down in bed with him on one of our chests, singing — loudly, right in his ear — along to music on the laptop, and jiggling him vigorously. Why all the drama? Who the heck knows? My ped brought up the c word (i.e., colic) and I nearly had a fit — as if him saying it would make it so. Did he have colic? I have no idea. I don’t think so. But . . . and I don’t think this will make you feel that much better, it passed. We all survived and it doesn’t reflect on his personality today (i.e., a happy toddler). But yeah, it’s really really hard, it makes you question yourself, and it made the first few months (yes, months, sorry) really . . . unfun. Do what you need to do to survive and don’t worry about what you or she “should” be doing (e.g., sleeping in her crib, enjoying it more, etc.) Hang in there!
Hiya; long time reader, first time commenter… I had a velcro baby too, and I just want to reassure you that it does get better! My wee girl has just turned 13 months and now sleeps beautifully in her cot. For the first four months, she had to be on me in some way. End of story, no exceptions. I tried a lot of different things as well but in the end just accepted that I had a baby who really needed cuddles to sleep. We used slings etc during the day until she grew out of them, but I have no advice. She just grew out of the need to be held in her own sweet time, but I know how hard it can be to sit holding a baby for hours on end, for days on end. It will pass though! xx
I am a long-time lurkeer (God that sounds awful), but I finally have to comment. Abigail sounds like our first child to a T. The child only slept (day or night) while on us. Ugh, and this just brings back such awful memories because I wasn’t just tired, I was tired of sitting in a chair with my mouth agape holding my baby. We treated her for reflux too, and it maybe helped some, but it wasn’t the panacea we’d hoped for. I know this isn’t the wisdom that a new mother might want to hear, but honestly, she just had to outgrow it, but maybe misery does love company. Know that you are not the only new mom in the world wondering why your child is PISSED. OFF. ALL. THE. TIME. Know that it will pass (Claire got less angry about life on the outside at around 4 months and has been basically an awesome kid ever since). I did a lot of reading, and near as I could find, I had one of those so-called “difficult babies,” who are just high-needs and demanding. Good luck, and if you want to e-mail offline, I can sooo sympathize with what you are going through right now and you have my full respect and empathy. It’s not easy bringing home a baby, but it shouldn’t be this hard, you are right!
I love your honesty, Erin. Wish I had wisdom for you but I’m childless, so I’ll just send soothing thoughts and energy to Abigail (and you) instead.
Oh Velcro baby! I love that term. Yes, I think it helps the battle when you just realize that baby needs to be held all the time and it won’t last forever, but that is how it is for now. Thank goodness for maternity leave and being able to stay home and give Abigail what she needs/wants. It seems like forever now, but this will just be a small portion of her life. Children, what a blessing, but it certainly is a forever changing life experience and your life will never be close to being the same. I realize that more and more everyday with my nearly 9 year old! The worries are still there, just in a different sort of way. I thank my mom so much for the way she put up with all my nonsense! Thank you for being so honest about your feelings, there are so many other mothers out there who can relate and appreciate all that you have so graciously shared.
I can’t offer any advice. Just wanted to send you a virtual hug. I wonder here and there during the day about how you are doing and constantly hope for things to calm for you with Abigail.
It does get better. It will. Even if you baby only wants to sleep on you now, that is very temporary. I hope the treatment works. But remember: your baby is very very tiny. Six weeks is not long. If you are very very tired, hire a babysitter to be the pillow, and go take a nap (with earplugs in). You need to keep up strength. Also, next week or so she’ll start smiling at you. That will help! My first kid, it was honestly kind of hard for a while. i won’t tell you how long. But it got better. Get help!
Another first time commenter- just wanted to chime in with a me too. My daughter is 18 months now and delightful, but our first 3 months were pretty terrible. I’m glad you had a glimmer of a break-through at 6 weeks. I clearly remember life getting substantially better at 10 weeks. I was able to decorate the Christmas tree while she sat in her bouncy- a Christmas miracle! It’s truly awful and while it seems like your life will be like this forever, it won’t. Many friends tried to tell me it gets better and I didn’t believe them. At the 5 week mark I called everyone I knew who was thinking about having a second child to tell them not to, because obviously they didn’t recall how terrible it is! And now I’m the one thinking about a second- so it must get better, right? Good luck.
Archer was a velcro baby too, and would only sleep on or near us or (not as soundly) in the co-sleeper. Once he started crawling and pulling himself up – almost simultaneously, at 5 1/2 months – we had to make changes quickly. Into the crib he went, and we anticipated never sleeping again. It was a rough couple of nights, but now? Peaceful 2-3 hour naps during the day, and 12 hours with one middle-of-the-night changing and feeding! I never would have believed it just a few short months ago.
Anyway, just wanted to reassure you that Abigail’s sleep troubles now don’t mean you’re doomed to never sleep again. This is actually a very short time for most babies – it only FEELS like forever! Hang in there!
I don’t have any wisdom, but the vacuum cleaner noises have worked wonders for us, too.
It does get better, I swear. I remember thinking how unfair it was that US moms are home for the first 12 weeks, and it’s at about 12 weeks that some of the issues often start working themselves out. I mean, babies are born with practically unfinished digestive systems, for goodness sakes! Who thought this was a good idea?
Before my daughter was born, someone told me to look at all the parents out there with toddlers. “They survived the first six months,” my friend said. “You will too. Don’t worry.”
The “high needs” “difficult child” “velcro baby” comments remind me of that chapter in Dr. Sears’ Baby Book where he says if you have a “high needs” baby you should feel lucky because you get to bond in a way that other parents don’t get to with their children, this is an opportunity for awesomeness, and having a high-needs baby is like having rainbows and unicorns flying out of your ass, just put the baby in a sling and wear it to work at your receptionist job!
Oh gag me with a fucking spoon. I wanted (still want to) punch Dr. Sears in the dick and tell him to get a clue.
My advice: stay away from “parenting” books and just go with whatever makes you, your baby, and your husband the most happy. If this means watching an endless parade of Maury Povich because that’s what Abigail likes, then so be it.
Like Jon Cryer says, “It gets better. Not in a gay way better, but better.” Hang in there. Know that many people have lived through this and it is just as hard and difficult as you think it is and it doesn’t mean you love your baby one iota less. It gets better.
My son wouldn’t sleep except while being held, too. He also hated sleeping on his back. I don’t care what all the books say, sometimes babies just want to sleep on their stomachs–and we let him (and–newsflash–he didn’t die!) Even when he was 2 years old, and I was hugely pregnant with his little sister, I had to sit on the floor next to his Toddler bed and rub his back and sing to him before he would go to sleep. He is now 14 years old, 5 inches taller than me, and wears a Men’s size Large. He is also the kid who wants a Hug from me every day and complains that I am “not a Hugger.” He is a sweet, cuddly, affectionate kid and always has been. Good thing he was my first-born and had our undivided attention for the first 2 years of his life! But, in the grand scheme of things, it’s a few short years of your life. It doesn’t last forever, and 10 years from now, when your daughter is all gangly arms and legs and defiant and argumentative and no longer fits in your lap, you will look back fondly on all of those hours you spent holding her–and physically connecting her–to your heart.