Zen Timmy no more

by Eve, in Parenting (1 Comment)

The last week, I believe, has been the hardest of my parenting experience. This entry’s image depicts an event that now seems as rare as phoenix sightings. Timmy has outdone himself in his extended screaming abilities.

A large part of the problem, I believe, is wind. He simply won’t part with his bubbles. After each feed I can hear them growling and rolling around inside him. I take Timmy through an abundance of positions designed to encourage burping, but they either do nothing (this is usually the case), or they result in a such a pitiful burp that it’s still next to zero progress. And I found Infacol Wind Drops to be a complete waste of time. So I’m then dealing with a baby who loudly expresses his discomfort, while kicking, writhing, and arching backward to such a tense degree it looks like he’s trying to exorcise a demon.

Nights have been the worst — not because his condition’s any more aggressive then, but just because it’s so taxing on me. I’m a solar-powered creature. Once the sun comes up I’m able to function again, even on little or no sleep, but darkness is my Kryptonite. Often in these times, by the time my little noisemaker had been fed, and I’d finally got rid of enough wind to sufficiently settle him for sleep, the next feed was due within the same hour.

Zen Timmy was a distant memory.

A couple of nights ago, hope glimmered on the horizon. A friend told me that one of her children had massive difficulties with wind also, and what finally worked for her was a simple home brew. Willing to try anything, I gratefully accepted the recipe and resolved to try it at the earliest opportunity.

I loathe peppermint tea, myself. Or peppermint anything, almost. I believe mint is appropriate in toothpaste only. So I felt a little vicious about giving it to Timmy, but he’d left me no choice. That night, I administered it before each feed, and reached the following conclusion by the next morning: I’d either extremely lucked out three times in a row, or that recipe was from God himself. Timmy had fed with no fuss, gone to sleep in my arms straight afterwards with no fuss, and went to his cradle with no fuss. At a couple of feeds he still didn’t burp, but this seemed to be not because of inability, but because he simply didn’t need to. Each feeding episode that night was completed within half an hour. I don’t think I’d slept so well since he was born. A fluke, or a magic recipe?

It worked just as well the next night. Bizarrely though, it didn’t appear to have the same bewitching effect during the day, but if I had to chose one or the other, I’d much rather it be a nocturnal healer. So I’ll take the blessing with gratitude anyway.

Still, I’m aware that two points make a line, not a pattern. So sense tells me it’s too early to rest in the sense of security that this magic recipe will solve all Timmy’s night time bubble problems. But it’s the best thing that’s worked so far.

Today he’s been particularly bad. I’m surprised his voice still works. He screamed for most of the day, so when my midwife came to see me on her weekly visit, she found me in a miserable state. She comforted me as well as she could, but had to admit there was no miracle fix. She made a connection that hadn’t occurred to me though: Timmy’s extreme difficulty coincided with when he began his antibiotics. My midwife told me that the antibiotics work by stripping the natural flora of his stomach, which includes the good bacteria. So it may be, she suggested, that I have a much more pleasant baby after the antibiotics are finished — in the next day or two, by the look of the level of syrup remaining. She recommended giving him a probiotic to replenish the good bacteria, after his antibiotic course was concluded.

Zen Timmy, how I miss you. Come back to me…