Inconsolable crying is defined as an event in which your baby is crying and nothing can calm them. This left me with questions, how long does it need to last? How regularly does it need to happen? Can it be a phase? When do I need to worry? Anyone who is a parent will have not even questioned why I know this definition, that is because you have googled this too.
You will have googled this because baby crying can cause anger, frustration, helplessness, anxiety and depression. These emotions will have led you to one upsetting thought….”do I have the ability to parent?”
In the first few months babies can only ask for things by crying, and the hard truth is you don’t know your baby yet. You are learning their individual likes, dislikes and needs. The fact they are individual means even if this isn’t your first baby, it’s almost like starting over. The only way to meet their needs, is with a trial and error approach. This slow and tedious method will result in some truly awful crying episodes, which at times will leave you both in tears. I’m not ashamed to say I have begged and pleaded with a baby (this didn’t help).
Most of us have a predisposed way of dealing with stress, this didn’t change after childbirth, so for me this was anxiety. This means I questioned my parenting and assessed if there could be a medical reason for crying. The fact I have medical experience may be the reason I worried about this but also allowed me to rule it out. Although, I recently noticed the majority of participants in my baby group have a diagnosis of milk allergy (statistically in the UK it’s normally 2-3%). Vast majority told me it got diagnosed due to inconsolable crying. I took this as an indicator, I’m not the only one who considered a medical cause.
Reassuringly, After a couple of months, I have gained a better understanding of my baby. Most effective burping positions, when he is tired, when he is hungry and when his nappy needs to be done. I have learnt this as fast as I can to avoid episodes of crying. For me, my anxiety results in a need to be organised and prepared for everything. I am in a stage, I like to refer to as the baby risk assessment. But what is my baby risk assessment?
1. Time of last feed. Only travel when you have time to reach destination or a feed has just been complete. Be late if you have to, it’s still less stressful.
2. Managing a poo. Do you have a spare outfit? Excess nappies, lots of baby wipes. Are the changing facilities manageable.
3. Bibs – take too many, he may dribble through or he may be sick.
4. Distraction – even if they can’t hold them yet, pack too many toys. Do they have a dummy? Take all of them and too many clips.
5. Time of outing. How quickly can you get home if this all goes wrong? How quickly will the food/coffee arrive? Is there an area to sit? Am I meeting someone and if so, set a realistic length of meet. Can I be back before anything is due?
This happens in my head everyday before I leave. Is this sustainable for life? Of course not, but it’s getting me through at this time. I do all this to avoid inconsolable crying in public places. Even with all this planning it only helps reduce the risk, it does still happen. I mean none of us are Mary Poppins.
I honestly can’t sustain this level of organisation at home, it’s too exhausting. Therefore, this is where I experience most the inconsolable events. Our inconsolable events always have a reason. Initially we don’t know the reason because he can’t vocalise but eventually he will burp, fart, feed or fall asleep. In some cases I know exactly what the cause is, I just haven’t been able to meet that need fast enough. This results in what I can only assume is him forgetting what he started stropping about (we have all done this during an argument). So I thought I would share my own inconsolable event, because we don’t often talk about the breaking points.
My morning starts like any other, he woke smiling and I was half dressed for the day (I am no longer ever ready before 10.30, even though I am awake from 5 or 6 am). I begin to change him for the day, in the brief few nappyless seconds of this, he lets out a huge wee. Change mats protect beds but result in a puddle underneath your baby. Which means head to toe of the back of your baby is moist with wee and the process of cleaning baby back up is arduous. During this process he decided he had a hunger like he had never experienced before, the scream crying began.
I knew it was hunger, that didn’t mean I could fix it instantly. I just didn’t have enough hands to clean him, dress him to be warm, make a bottle and hold him. My partner is on a work meeting, I can’t call for help and this adds the extra strain of everyone on the meeting hearing. I already feel under pressure, but I need to dress him first. It feels like an eternity by the time I get the bottle in his mouth, but he has forgotten why he is crying now, so won’t take the bottle. Crying continues, I keep trying, I bounce my knee, I sing and I pray for him to stop. I then distract him with infacol and he takes the bottle – Silence.
You stop, take a few breaths and he feeds. But then a choke noise and he cries again, he was drinking too quick! He won’t take the bottle and just cries, so I start the cycle of bounce, sing and then beg. Why can’t I console him? I’m the worst mum, why won’t he stop? Why won’t he feed? Have I got this wrong? I feel tears roll down my cheeks. Finally he feeds again, there is no sensible reason for this, he must have just finally realised his need- Silence.
He sits up and smiles and unleashes an outstanding vomit all over mums clean clothes. I couldn’t even care, I continue to sit with him upright to keep him silent and happy. I feel numb to be honest, like I had to switch off emotion to manage the crying. We both sit enjoying the silence and rest.
The silence is broken by a triple parp noise and the strain sound of a man that needs more fibre. The smell warns me the ordeal isn’t over yet. I lift his top to discover he has pooed through a long sleeve top, leggings and a wool jumper. Incredibly impressive. The only option I have at this point is to run a bath, whilst he continues to run his body left and right in the poo on the mat. Dad appears following the bath as I dress him he begins to cry. I tap out, Dad takes over (very grateful I have this option) and I feel a failure.
I should have now taken the morning easy, been kind to myself and enjoyed him. Instead I continued to apply pressure to myself, I rushed to a health visitor appointment, the shops to get missing ingredients and grab my baby clothes from M&S. The morning had been traumatic and it wasn’t going to get better. I was frustrated and pushing myself, so i continued to have a bad day. I smashed my head on a car boot, my tyres decided today was the day to announce my unsafe tyre pressure, on fixing this I dropped the screw under the car and needed to crawl through petrol station black scum to obtain it and lastly a woman in M&S dropped a tomato ravioli meal on the floor, exploding up my leg. I was clearly a joy by the end of all this.
My day got better, but only because I quit. I walked in and didn’t finish tidying, I didn’t go to the gym, I didn’t go for a walk and I didn’t sort out anymore errands. I told my partner I quit and I spent the afternoon playing with little man. He rewarded me with smiles, rolls and chatter. Maybe I’m not a complete failure after all.
This weeks blog was initially a different topic, which I have put on hold. This is because parenting is constantly changing, he is almost 4 months and out of nowhere these events have become more frequent. This week I felt tearful and frustrated with myself.
(This picture was taken during the rewards given that day.)
Honestly surviving parenting 