I have an (almost) adopted 2 month old daughter and a 6 month old foster daughter. There is a lot of crying and gosh darn that sound is effective at catapulting me into high gear. I guess it makes sense seeing as how evolution has had millions of years to finely-tune a piercing, shrill baby cry to motivate even the most exhausted and disinterested person.
Friends who swear that a little crying won’t bother them arrive at my home only to start twitching and writhing in pain from the sound. “Are you SURE she’s okay?” they’ll ask. “Do you know how many different things could be wrong?” I usually respond. Once I get past changing diapers, feeding and snuggling there’s not much more to do for the little munchkins. One loves to be swaddled the other doesn’t.
I have to remind myself that having a baby who never cries is not my goal. It’s a hard sell though. “What if I would have made that bottle ten minutes earlier?” I ask myself. Actually, there’s a really, really long list of “What if’s” I have. It’s the scientist in me. I want to posit my hypothesis, select my experimental variable (e.g. time of bottle preparation), control for all confounding variables (impossible) and calculate my results and summarize my conclusion. The babies, or ‘baby ladies’ as I like to call them, aren’t interested in my poster presentation. It’ll all change by next week anyway.
So, Rebecca (that’s me), there will be crying. Repeat. Crying will happen. Babies will not die. In fact, babies cannot die from crying (Oh hell yeah, I already looked that up for a few hours). Babies won’t even be traumatized or emotionally scarred or eternally damaged. That’s all saved for me if I keep internalizing the crying. I can’t do this. My mantra this week is “There will be crying” and it’s going to be okay.