Colic: A Memior

When I was pregnant with my twins I wasn't scared at all.  Everyone would look at me with fear in their eyes and ask if I was going to have any help with the babies.  I would say no.  I mean, I had spent years babysitting and even taught preschool for a while, how hard could it be?

Try to contain your laughter.

I would watch moms frantically trying to quite crying babies on airplanes and wonder what was wrong with them that they couldn't comfort their baby?  I would give judgmental looks to mothers in Target with screaming toddlers.  That would never be me.  I loved babies and kids and parenting was going to come naturally to me.

When I was about seven months pregnant we were at a friends house for dinner and they were telling us about their neighbors who had a colicky baby.  They told us horror stories about midnight drives in the car to get the baby to sleep, the dark circles under the mom's eyes, the fights between the parents.  I remember saying I could certainly handle twins, as long as neither of them had colic.   I'm sure you can imagine where this story is going.

After delivering my twin girls via c-section, I spent one week in the hospital.  My husband or my mother was with me most of that time.   I think I was alone with my newborns for maybe one afternoon during that week.   The nurses and lactation consultants were there for practically every feeding.   As a new mother with twins who had had a breast reduction, they rarely left me alone.  When we finally took our babies home, I was ready for some peace and quiet.

Tears well up in my eyes just thinking about those first few days at home.   Obviously, my whole world felt different.  I was terrified.  How would there ever be enough of me to give to two babies who felt like little pieces of my heart exposed to the world?  Everything looked different... my house, my car, my husband, my friends, me.  I remember vividly the night the real screaming started.  I woke up to feed the girls their bottles.  That went well.  But then neither one of them would go back to sleep.  I sat up on the couch with two screaming one week old infants for what felt like an eternity.  It was probably almost two hours before I was able to get them both back to sleep.

Things got worse from there.   I kept a log of when I fed them and what they did in between feedings.  Most days the time between bottles was filled with "cry, cry, cry" or "slept for 20 minutes, then SCREAMED FOR AN HOUR!"  I was a wreck at their two week check up.  I was physically and emotionally exhausted.  When I explained to my pediatrician that all my babies seemed to do was eat and CRY.  She said it sounds like colic, not much to be done but stick it out.  Things should get better in a few months.

A few months??   I didn't think I could handle this for a few more hours, much less months.  I needed a magic bullet.   I went home and proceeded to read everything ever written on the subject of colic.   I tried every remedy, every trick, everything.  Some things helped a little, some didn't help at all.   No one had any concrete answers.  If we had a good day, I would write out detailed notes of what I did that day in order to replicate it all the next day.  It never worked.  

They only time they would take a nap longer than 15 or 20 minutes was in the car or in my arms.  I would pace the house with one baby in a sling while holding the other to get them to sleep.  Once they finally fell asleep, I would sit in our big leather chair and hold both of them for as long as I could stand it so they could get a decent nap.  My wrists and forearms were constantly sore.  I ended up needing cortisone shots in both wrists several times.    I put way too many miles on my car just aimlessly driving around because they always fell asleep the car.  Thinking back, it was not only a colossal waste of gas, but was dangerous for a chronically exhausted new mother to be driving a motor vehicle.  *shudder*

I rarely left the house for fear that one or both of my babies would have a meltdown that I wouldn't be able to sooth.  I had become my worst nightmare - a mother who couldn't comfort her own baby.  Why did they hate me?  What had I done to deserve colicky twins?  Was this my punishment for being to cocky while pregnant?   I'd watch TLC's A Baby Story and I would get so fucking angry at the end of the show when they went back to interview the mother a couple weeks after giving birth.  She would talk about how lovely motherhood was with her peaceful sleeping baby in her lap.  I would call my sister and say, "That is bullshit!!! Where do they find these mothers?!?!?!"

When the girls were about two months old we had dinner with some friends.   They were, of course, asking us about the twins and parenthood.  But after I described how the first few weeks were going, my friends husband asked me if they were bringing me any joy at all.  That was the lowest point for me.  Here I was absolutely dizzy in love with these two little girls, but joyful?  I did not feel joyful.  

I felt embarrassed, hopeless and alone.  No matter how much I read, or how much I loved them, I couldn't make the random crying fits stop.  So many friends offered to come over and just walk around with one of the babies so I could get some rest or sit down to eat a meal.  ButI  brushed them off.  This was my problem.  I was their mother for fuck's sake and if they were crying it was my responsibility to suffer through it with them.  I also was trying so hard to hide the fact that my babies cried so darn much.  It was crazy, but that was how I felt.   My fear, anxiety and shame was paralyzing.

Looking back, I'm surprised no one suggested I seek help from my doctor.  I was so worried about putting on a happy face and acting completely blissed out.  I made jokes about how hard it all was and how I wanted to send them back.  Ha, ha, ha.  But there were days I really did want to send them back.  I was scared the crying would never end and I would spend the next 18 years cruising the freeways to get them to fall asleep.  I really believe I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I'm sure my husband would agree.  

I don't really remember exactly when the prolonged crying fits started to ease up.  Maybe six months or so.  Throughout that whole first year they were sensitive to changes in their (very strict) routine.   We had a huge first birthday party for them in our backyard and all I really remember was one or the other crying from being passed from one relative to the other or missing a nap.  It was a rough year.  

But they grew into loving, fun, incredibly adorable toddlers.  The fear, anxiety and hopelessness slowly faded away along with the colic.  I felt joyful in motherhood at last.  I even got pregnant again right around their second birthday.  And wouldn't you know it, that baby rarely cried and took long, regular naps.   I almost couldn't believe he was my baby.

After all the research on colic I did and from my experience, I believe there really is no medical explanation for colic.  It's all a crapshoot.  You either get a baby that needs to cry a lot to get used to the world, or you don't.   I would tell any mother going through it today that it's no fault of theirs.  I wish someone would have forced me to get some help.  I wish I had been able to take advantage of the countless friends and family members who offered to rock my babies while I took a shower.  What I needed was to take care of myself, give myself a break.  The babies were going to cry no matter what.  I had no way of coping and nearly broke me.  

These are painful memories for me.  I was so looking forward to becoming a mother and it was a shock for me that it didn't come naturally.   I needed to hear that it was normal to for me to despise the crying and not enjoy every minute of every day with my babies.  Those feelings didn't diminish my love for my baby girls. 

I am still dizzy with love for them.   Six and a half years later.