Friday, January 23, 2009
We didn't take any pictures this week until today. And... most of the pics... not share worthy. We really want to capture her beautiful smile, but... we have been foiled in every attempt.
A colleague last night said that his daughter reached the peak of her crying between six and eight weeks. It backed off after that. That would be nice. She had an angry week, more red faced, tears streaming, exhausting all breath moments than ever before.
But I also said last night that if I ever imagined my baby crying so intensely I would have been terrified, but... in real life... I just love her so fiercely, it is not so bad. We wish she were at peace more of the time, but however she is, she is our beloved child. And we will love her right through it. And as we talked about this with friends tonight Kevin commented that it is easier to handle the intense screamy times because she is not like that all the time; this is absolutely not all of who she is. So we take it in stride because it is part of who she is, and we love all of who she is.
The sweetest, funniest part of her serious crying times are when I put her on the breast in the hopes it will calm her down (it almost always does). She often latches on right away, but grunts a bit, angrily for the first 10 seconds or so as if to say "I'm still angry. I just want you to know that." And then she becomes totally absorbed in eating and all we hear is gulping and sometimes squeaking. She used to squeak all the time when she ate. Now just sometimes, but often in these times.
Funny story from Caroline's seventh week, last night was a pretty long night. She gets into these moods sometimes where she won't stay latched on for very long when eating, BUT she wants to be latched on. She'll suck for a bit and then will pull off (often dramatically) and then will fuss until I help her get reattached. This gets OLD in the middle of the night (it gets old during the day, but it gets really old in the middle of the night). She was in one of those moods last night and after what felt like an endless session of it I called to Kevin.
"Uh.. yeah?" sounding remarkably awake.
"Caroline has been pulling off a lot. I think she needs to be burped and changed."
"O.K." Silence. Moments later- snore.
"Yes," again sounding remarkably awake.
"Will you please burp and change Caroline?"
"Yeah." And then I hear rhythmic tapping.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm burping Caroline."
"I HAVE Caroline."
"Oh, I thought I did."
And then he got up and burped and changed Caroline, who then returned to her on again/off again nursing for what felt like for.ev.er.