Colic

So colic is one of those words that most people aren't really sure of the exact definition. In fact, even in the medical field there is a lack of consistency in defining colic. It is one of those words that becomes the catch all to describe a baby crying because of a belly ache. And so it is pretty common for people to tell you that their baby had colic.

The first few times people shared this with me, I was eager to commiserate with them over the horror that is colic, only what they described was worlds apart from what I was experiencing. Then one day at church a sweet mama saw my face and heard me mention colic, she approached me with genuine concern and gently tried to encourage me that this would pass and she knew what I was going through because her first born was the exact same way. It was the sympathy in her eyes, and heart break in her tone that convinced me that she truly understood what I was living.

Colic, as our pediatrician explained, is when there are spasms in the digestive system (intestines, or stomach) as the baby continues to develop this important system. These spasms are not always painful to all babies, but for some they are very painful. We were the lucky winners of that crap shoot. Now that my boy is past that painful phase and I can feel what gas bubbles moving through intestines feels like, I am more convinced that our pediatrician's definition is spot on, because gas bubbles feel different than what I would feel in my baby boy's tummy. It felt like a spasm. Like a cramp was spasming in his belly. Poor baby :( He was suffering, and, by proxy, so were we.

The colic lasted for about 13 weeks, and coincided with my postpartum depression. I think the lack of sleep was a huge factor in my depression. For thirteen weeks my son cried and screamed in pain. He slept very little and when he did it was only with pressure and heat on his stomach. So we ended up holding him in the "magic hold" (look it up if you ever find yourself with a restless, fussy baby, it was a life saver for us), or we wore him. I had intended to wear him, but with the colic there was no other option if I wanted to get anything else done. He HATED the car seat (and still isn't really a fan) so driving around was not an option, he hated being on his back so the swing or bouncer didn't help much during that time. He basically lived in my carrier on my or my husband's chest, like a baby kangaroo. (BTW I would highly recommend the Becco Gemini carrier for folks who want to wear newborn babies!)

R slowly outgrew the colic. A woman commented to me once that she believed that babies aren't done developing when they come out of the womb and the she considered the first six months to be a continuation of the enormous changes that occurred in utero. That perspective really helped me during this time. I can't exactly explain why, but it did. My baby who was in pain, and who was making me miserable, was himself miserable and scared by all the changes and sensations he was feeling, and he was helpless to stop it, and all he wanted was to be held chest to chest with his momma or papa. At times I was so tired and irritated I resented being wanted so extremely, but then I reminded myself of his developing pains and I wore him because that was the only thing to give him comfort.

So, we had the colic. It suuuuuucked!!! I had not prepared for that. I did not handle it well. My husband was the champ, the hero, the rock. And those were the first 3 months. Every week of those months I wondered how long I would be in that hell. Those were dark times for me, remember? No one could ever give me a definitive answer. A few moms had some wise words: things never really get easier, they just get different. I liked that. It has that hopeful, slogan feel doesn't it? And I am sure it is true for most moms. But my husband and I were just talking about this the other day, and so far every phase past the colic has definitely been easier. Teething, easier. Night terrors, easier. Night nursing (which he still does at 13 months), easier. Growth spurts, easier. Pre-milestone-grumpiness, easier. ALL easier. Not easy, but easier. So far anyway.