Cry Baby. :*(

In August of 2002, 7 months pregnant, Jeff and I moved to Austin. We had no family and no friends there. Jeff worked as the Systems Administrator and Network Engineer for a large retailer, usually gone for 10+ hours a day and often having to work nights and weekends.
We lived on the edge of the city and had only one car.

It was in this situation that Quinn and I began our life together. A homebirth turned cesarean section would be the way that he would enter the world. It was traumatic for us both, and Quinn was crying before he was completely delivered. Four days later we left the hospital, Jeff returned to work, and Quinn was still crying. Crying and definitely not sleeping. With no ability to consider that I had just had major abdominal surgery (the incision from which I would later find out was infected) I carried Quinn and did not sleep for 6 days. I mean that. I didn't sleep. Not for 5 minutes. Quinn cried when he was awake and when he was asleep he fussed, kicked and woke every few minutes. Colic doesn't quite describe it.

He simply didn't do anything but cry. Finally, we cried together. I would walk circles around our little apartment and we would cry. For hours every day, for our own reasons. His were unknown and mine were unacknowledged.

We took him to every kind of doctor and healer. They did x-rays and blood work, accupressure and CS Therapy. No one had an answer for us, but everyone who heard the pitch of his scream was sure that there was something wrong.
For 6 to 8 hours of every day it went like this. Quinn and I, alone in our apartment, alone in the world, cried it out together. I held him always. In my sleep, in the bathroom, always. He desperately needed something and this was all I had to offer.

After about 6 months he began to get better, though he continued to cry inconsolably for at least part of every day until he was a year old.

We never found out why. He simply stopped one day and became a happy baby.

To this day the sound of a crying baby induces a level of anxiety in me usually reserved for those on a crashing plane.

Luckily, for us all, Nichola did not cry. Not at all. I think she was nearly three months old before she cried, and when she did she was easily consoled with a little rocking and soothing words.

Simone seemed to be born like Nichola. In fact, she was even more content and patient than Nichola. Nothing bothered her. She didn't even fuss.
Until a few days ago when she began to look a little too much like Quinn. It began with a little fussing, nothing at all concerning, except that she had not ever done it before. Then it moved to the single cry. Waah! followed by a happy again baby. Then an arched back and a cry that seemed to say she really meant it this time. Now she is in a state of general unhappiness.
Compared to Quinn, I simply cannot call it colic. She is not inconsolable. She does not cry, only elicits single or triple cries followed by squirming and fussing. She sleeps and she is happy the rest of the time.

Now, I know that she is not Quinn. I know that babies cry. But I also know that something is wrong that cannot be fixed by nursing, diaper changes, burping, singing or rocking. I hate to say it, but all outward appearances are of GERD. :*(

We are exhausted. Jeff spent the night on the sofa so that he could hold her upright because this seemed to be the only position she could sleep in. We switched in the morning and I pulled the next five hours of rocking, burping, and pacing.

We're about a week into an elimination diet to make sure that she is not sensitive to anything which I am eating. It is possible that she is experiencing the "worse before it gets better" effect of this. We are hoping.
We're also researching GERD. Trying to determine why it would have begun after several weeks of health and happiness, and what to do about it.

In the meantime, if you would, send some love and light to little Simone. I will also happily take any information you have on reflux in infants.

xoxo