It’s still absolutely amazing how mystifying these creatures are. For instance, for about 2 weeks we had developed into a BIT (and I stress that) of a routine. Stella would sleep a bit more during the night vs. the day, but each and every day around 6:00-6:30 she would begin cacking. The cacking led, inevitably, to full blown bitching. She would bitch for about 1.5-2 hours straight, before ultimately wearing herself out. I often time this myself, as I figure that is a great time to have my one small glass of red wine (yes, I am allowing that, although I am incredibly conscious of when I drink it so as to not impact my breastmilk). I sit with my cranky daughter in the rocking chair, with subtitles turned on the TV, wine beside me, rocking her and holding a pacifier in her mouth until she drifted off. I call it the Bitching Hour.
Wednesday, the Bitching Hour started earlier and lasted longer. I didn’t think much of it. Until Thursday. She screamed at me all day Thursday. That was one of the few times I just cried in complete frustration. By the time Will came home from work (in a bad mood himself, and around 8:30-9:00 at night due to his stupid, stupid schedule), the whole house was at each others’ throats. When Stella woke up screaming the next morning, I wanted to run away from home. Fortunately, she stopped abruptly and spent the rest of the day happily eating and quietly sleeping, which was something else she hadn’t been doing a whole hell of a lot of during the day. I was elated and practically gelatinous with relief.
In any case, during the marathon screaming session, I had anxiously perused the internet, trying to determine if her stomach was upset. I don’t even remember how I got on that track, but it was a mistake. No matter what you look up about babies, it’s all normal, it’s all dire, it’s all an emergency, it’s all something you’re doing wrong. Her stomach upset went from a typical thing (such as a growth spurt), to acid reflux, to GERD, to lactose intolerance, to my diet, to….. I could go on and on. Then came the sleeping; kids her age “average” 15-16 hours of sleep per day. She’s not even been logging half of that. Considering I had just seen a documentary called “Born Schizophrenic,” about one of the earliest-presenting cases of childhood schizophrenia which started with the infant not sleeping, I had more to stew about. One minute your head is telling you it’s nothing. The next, you’re an awful mother whose diet sucks.
I think I need to stay off the internet for kiddo issues. It’s too anxiety-provoking.