I won’t say that I reached a breaking point yesterday – but I was teetering on it.  In stilettos.

Do you know what it’s like when your child wakes up screaming at 6:30am?  & by 11am, you’re shaking.  SHAKING.  Because as over-stimulated as your child feels, you’ve had high-pitched shrieking invading your every thought for almost five hours.  For the seventh day in a row.  At night, you close your eyes & you still hear crying.  You wake up three times every night, swearing you heard screaming & wondering if motherhood will give you post traumatic stress disorder.  & you sit down & cry, looking at your child & irrationally asking him why he hates you.  Wondering if he’d be better with another mother.  Wondering if what you wanted for so long was the biggest mistake you ever made.

Yeah.  That’s an emotional breaking point.

It was time to call the pediatrician again.  Actually, it was past time but I just kept thinking this will pass.  It’s just a growth spurt, colic, whatever.  He’s almost 12 weeks old.  12 weeks is supposed to be the magic age, right?  Maybe I’m simply over-reacting in my perception.  But it kept getting worse.  Nate wanted to attend the pediatrician with me but couldn’t yesterday – I was hoping to hold off until Tuesday to take Harrison in so both of us could be in attendance, but yesterday, I broke.  I called the pediatrician.

Then hung up.   Because I thought, “No, Nate needs to be there.  Hang in there one more day.”  A minute later, I picked up the phone & dialed again.  & hung up.

I did this four times.  Afraid to go in by myself.  Afraid to not go in.

I finally picked up the phone, forced myself to make the earliest appointment they had, & packed up to leave.  Harrison stayed in jammies.  I stayed in yoga pants & a sweatshirt (I did, however, remember to brush my teeth when I ran upstairs to get him a blanket).  At the pediatrician, a lady smiled at Harrison in his pajamas & said, “It’s so funny how you can tell the first-time mothers with their babies in sweet outfits; but us ‘old pros’ just throw the kid in the car with sleepers.  Is this your second?”  I laughed hysterically.  ”No, he’s my first.” I explained.  ”It’s just not worth the screaming to dress him.”  I looked down at her baby, the same age as Harrison, who was smiling happily.  Cooing, batting at car seat toys, giggling up at his mother.  The baby to my right was also grinning up at her mother.  & Ol’ Stormy sat in his car seat in (thankfully) quiet fury, glaring at anyone who peered into his car seat & threatening to open his lungs at any moment.  I wanted to cry for him.  I wanted to cry for me.  These women with their happy, content, interactive babies.  & me, with a child I cannot console.

I’ll spare you the boring details of the visit, which including lots of talking, a full check into Harrison, & watching videos of the screaming.  Basically, Harrison’s reflux is far worse than we even imagined at the 2-month visit.  We kept thinking this is something he’d “outgrow” as most babies do, not get worse.  But if anything, we’re learning that Harrison is far from the “typical” baby.  His reflux is now requiring Prevacid, plus a more expensive hypoallergenic soy since he is intolerant to both dairy & soy.  Due to the reflux constantly burning, we’re to now spoon-feed him rice cereal twice per day prior to a bottle.  (that is a mighty adventure with many pictures to come, mostly of Nate & I covered in goop)

The other side to this coin is that Harrison is simply a high-sensitivity baby.  & apparently, it’s not uncommon in blonde-haired, blue-eyed folks to have more allergies , intolerance, & higher sensitivity (to temperature, noise, smell, taste, moods, light, etc).

Makes you wonder what Hitler was thinking, no?

Part of that does include my anxiety, but Dr. Hottie was quick to ensure me that my anxiety is not the cause of Harrison’s “behavior.”  (neither is a lack of breastfeeding, douchebag.  he’d have the allergy & reflux regardless.  except i’d be sans-cheese in my diet & we’d still be shelling out $60/mo for meds)  It’s the opposite, but with his sensitivity to my mood, we’re creating a vicious cycle for one another.  In an odd way, I’m looking forward to returning to work & Harrison staying with The Momma (for a few weeks prior to daycare) to “break the cycle.”  It’s not hard to figure out why he’s constantly screaming – a fire burning up his throat with no relief, a tummy that doesn’t agree with anything, & the constant over-stimulation provided by simply existing.

We’re almost 24 hours into the Nutrimagen formula, with our first dose of Prevacid under our belts.  Obviously, things are not perfect – that is going to take time.  But he did calm down enough today to play with Sophie & his Momma for 10 minutes:

& for now, that gives me enough hope & confidence to keep truckin’ through this final week of maternity leave.