New Mummy Blog: My baby's experience with colic

This week our little one has been experiencing colic. The NHS describes colic as ‘excessive, frequent crying in a baby who appears to be otherwise healthy and well fed’.

Almost every day, like clockwork, six o’ clock strikes and what has become known as the witching hour descends. Our happy, curious, content baby transforms into a wailing banshee, impossible to comfort or pacify. It lasts all evening on and off, and then just as suddenly as it begins, it ends and peace resumes. Until the next night.

There seems to be no cause. She’s been fed, her nappy is clean, she’s not too hot, too cold or too tired, we’ve winded her, there’s no obvious outward signs of what might be causing her pain.

No known cause means we can’t be forthcoming with any cure. All we can do is try to soothe her, wind her, rock her in our arms, walking never-ending circuits around the coffee table.  We spend these hours chasing sleep for her, mostly in vain but if she can sleep through any of it, it brings relief to all three of us.

[New Mummy: And so it all begins]
[New Mummy: The best baby ever, of course…]

It’s so tough to see her so distressed. She looks up at us, directly in our eyes, seemingly pleading with us to help her. But we’re helpless. We take what comfort we can in knowing that it’s normal, affects around one in five babies in their early months, and will not harm her. Although this last part is hard to believe in the face of her sobs and tiny, tear-stricken face.

Of lesser importance, but still wearing, is the loss of any sort of evening for Adam and I. Gone is any hope, however remote in the first place, of us eating together or watching something, anything, on television from beginning to end. Mostly we manage a couple of hours of stop-starting, trying desperately to stave off the panic and distress we feel in response to our baby’s, before I admit defeat and take Honor and myself up to bed around 10pm. Not that sleep will come any time soon for either of us.

This pattern is likely to stop just as suddenly as it started and for no apparent reason, at around 12 weeks, so we’re told. Which means another four weeks of this. That sounds like a very long time.

[Tips for busy mornings with a toddler]
[How can I tell what my baby wants?]

But conscious of not wishing these early weeks away, we’re trying to see the positives. That there is an end in sight is a huge relief and helps keep us going through these dark hours. That our daughter is otherwise a joy, a lively, cheeky, sweet-natured baby, makes things so much easier. That is it just colic, and there’s nothing actually ‘wrong’ with her. And that we’re not alone – many parents go through this and come out the other side.