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And God said, “Let there be crying”; and there was crying
By ella | January 10, 2005
When I came downstairs from putting the babies to bed last night, I stopped for a minute (as I do most nights), tired, my head aching, thinking how constantly hard each and every day can be with two small children.
But then I remembered that this is nothing compared to having a small baby in the house. The constant state of anxiety I used to be in, knowing that at any minute the baby would wake up and need feeding, more feeding, that the baby would be crying, that it would require attention, entertaining, changing, feeding or all of the above.
And then dreading the nights, having a half-shower only to be interrupted by cries on the monitor or leaping awake, having not even really been asleep, when the all-encompassing howl of the starving baby starts. Like most mothers, I hate hearing my baby cry. Unlike most, I REALLY hate hearing my baby cry. I feel the sinking in my stomach, the adrenalin pumping, blood pressure rising, the tension in my body palpable. I spent months in fear of my babies crying.
My first baby was a joy - totally and utterly - and also incredibly hard work, although I didn’t know it at the time because I just thought that that is how all new babies were supposed to be. Harry never slept. For many months he wouldn’t settle, slept fitfully, never napped and as a result was tired, irritable and tiring. Eventually when they agreed that he did have reflux (hello, I’m his mother, won’t anybody listen to me when I say something is not right?) medication helped but not before I had had months of sleep-deprived nights, feeding him twice at every feed after he ‘refluxed’ the first lot (every time all over both of us) and taking him out in his stroller twice a day, every day, walking - sometime round and round and round the block - until he fell asleep, for an hour of blissful (for us both), comfortably-upright sleeping. Post-pregnancy flab? With all that walking - you gotta be joking.
My second baby was the easiest-ever baby (my reward for being wonder mum to eldest son). God looked at me, looked at Eldest Son, looked back at me then decided I could have easiest-ever Second Son. William ate and slept for England, settled easily and was easily entertained. (Yet I still dreaded the pressure I felt when the crying started, although there was SO MUCH less of it with him.) Then God looked at me and thought “I’ve overdone it, this woman’s definitely got it too easy” and gave me a really good dose of post-partum depression.
Yes, the days are hard but nothing like they used to be. And every day I say Amen to that.
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Categories: Parenting
3 Comments
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I paid my dues with three really difficult babies and then I had a really easy baby. If the other three had been like the fourth I might have had even more but I didnt dare risk it!
Good luck for the future.
Renee
I can totally sympathise with the nighttime crying. Recently I have found it hard to go to sleep, even when absolutely knackered, as I’m listening out for babies crying before it wakes the other half. You just dread the noise and whats worse is when you’ve settled them and crawl back to bed, your brain is working overtime and it takes you an age to get back to sleep. I know that we are not alone and I keep telling myself that others have it worse! Hope this helps.
Cally
It definitely helps.
I like to write my grocery shopping lists while I am ‘waiting’ to get back to sleep. Hubby draws the line at me firing up the laptop in the middle of the night…