One Rough Day

I almost called this post “Worst. Day. Ever.” I decided against it not only because I realistically have had worse days (though not as a parent), but also because the Comic Book Guy Simpsons references are a little tired, aren’t they? Anyway, this post is not about today, but yesterday. As some of you might have seen, my wife commented on this post about our daughter’s nightly sleeping routine that Lucy had had pretty bad gas, which was probably why it took her so long to fall asleep. Yesterday, we woke up pretty normally and had a good run for an hour or so with lots of smiles and laughs coming from Lucy. It looked like it was going to be a good day.

Wrong.

As the title explains, it was rough. With the exception of a few exhausted naps and feedings, Lucy wound up screaming most of the day. At first I wasn’t sure what the deal was, but then I felt her stomach and it was pretty hard, a sure sign of gas pain. I gave her some anti-gas drops, which didn’t seem to do a whole lot. I tried leaning her forward, rubbing her tummy in a clockwise motion, walking her around, everything I could think of. The only thing that really seemed to distract her from her pain was me playing my acoustic guitar. She’s been enjoying that in general lately, but I think the loudness of the guitar caught her attention.

I’m sure this is something every parent has dealt with and I’m sure I’ll have to deal with it again, but it really is a singular experience. Usually when someone or something is screaming at you, you run away, scream back, punch them in the face or work it out and quell the screaming, none of which are appropriate ways of dealing with a sad baby. They’ll cry and cry and cry and can’t tell you why (sounds like a country song).

This is one of those parenting lessons, the bold-faced realization that, at least for now, your child is mostly a walled-off entity unto themselves. Sure, she’ll let you know when she’s hungry or happy or bored, sorta, but the nuances of human relationships aren’t there yet. She can’t tell me what’s up. Obviously, I knew that going in, but this was a pretty clear slap in the face from reality.

I guess it’s time to start studying up on those sign language flashcards.

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3 comments

  1. Those are the moment’s Im told that you leave the baby alone to self-soothe. Whatever that means. I feel your pain. This has been enough of a fear to keep me from wanting an infant.

  2. Not only can she not tell you what’s up but you can’t explain to her what is going on because she doesn’t know and she just feels pain. That’s what makes me sad.

  3. Lay her on your lap, with her head on your knees, and her legs facing up against your chest. Grab her feet, and scrunch her legs down and up into her stomach, gentle but firm…It literally squishes the gas out of there little tummy.

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