Gone are the days when my baby would snuggle up like a little bean and sleep on my chest all day long. Ahh yes those are just memories of two long weeks ago.
Nowadays we’ve got a full fledged screamer up in here. I think it’s too early to call it colic, so for now I’m just calling it a bad attitude.
Last night he screamed from 4pm to 9pm with almost no breaks. He cried, I cried, and we all flopped into bed exhausted when it was finally over. I definitely had a few resentful moments, thinking about friends with babies who never make a peep, sleep through the night, and seem to be generally happy most of the time.
I logged into Facebook this morning and scrolled through what is the typical newsfeed of a 30 year old – updates on pregnancies and babies, and rants about sports and politics. One posting in particular caught my attention – a friend from grade school letting friends and family know that they were on their way to the hospital for their baby’s open heart surgery. Just reading it felt like a punch in the stomach.
How could I have not realized how ridiculously lucky I am to have this screaming bundle of joy?
And just like that, I squeezed my little boy a little tighter, kissed his tears away, and said a little prayer of thanks for all that I have. There will be good nights and there will be bad nights. There will be many frustrations, worries, and feelings of helplessness in dealing with a newborn who’s only means of communication is screaming or screaming louder.
But he is healthy and he is strong, and that is something I should absolutely never take for granted. The next time he gears up for a good scream in my face, I’ll remind myself that the louder the scream, the healthier the lungs. Whether it is a good or bad one, every day with Cullen is a gift.
I’m glad that all it took for me to realize it was a little dose of perspective.