It was around 6:30pm and Arabella had just finished her bottle. She's now three months old. She was sleeping against my chest as I quietly rocked her and watched TV. That's when it hit me, it was 6:30pm and she was sleeping...soundly...I may even be able to put her to bed...did I mention it was 6:30pm? My sweet Arabella normally suffered (as did everyone in the house with her) through colic from about 4:30-7pm every night. It had been that way since we brought her home. We even deemed that time in our evening as her "colic hour," as if giving it a nickname would somehow take the sting out of our aching feet and knees as we bounced her...for hours...while she screamed. A slight break in the steady bouncing would jolt her from a fitful sleep and into tears. She had been getting better with each passing night, but tonight was the first night that she completely skipped her "colic hour."
As I snuggled her close I couldn't help but tear up...partly from sheer joy and partly from grief. I know that sounds like an unlikely pair of emotions, but I've learned that sometimes that's exactly what motherhood looks like: mismatched and yet totally in sync. A laugh among tears. My joy came from the fact that my beautiful, blue eyed angel wasn't hiccuping back the burning acid that seemed to light her throat on fire. Her face was relaxed, her breathing was a light, content little snore. She radiated peace. I also felt elation that the hours of sobbing, which sometimes caused me to question whether my eardrums may suffer from permanent damage, were coming to an end. Peace and routine would soon shine through the curtains of our little family structure. It's a glorious feeling. But that's where the grief crept in. I felt strangely sad to be ending a stage in her young life already. Don't get me wrong, colic sucks, but it was still a stage in her life that our family traveled through, and now it was ending. She isn't a newborn anymore...it's official...she's now a little baby who's personality is starting to bubble to the surface. A new stage is beginning.
I'd like to point out that colic didn't infect every moment of Bella's life, thankfully. My bambina is allergic to milk and soy, and she also has acid reflux, so it's taken a long time for her belly to heal. Once we changed her diet and treated her reflux her days became sweeter. Most of her day would be filled with lots of smiles, sporadic kicking and her tight fists clumsily batting at her dangling toys. She especially loved to be read to. However, once 4:30 crept in her brownish-red eyebrows would furrow and she'd begin to squiggle uncomfortably, and then the water works would start.
So goodbye to my sweet Bella's newborn stage. It makes me fill up just typing that. However, I am so happy that my sweet girl has become more peaceful. I can't wait to learn more about the loving, smiley little girl that she is growing into.
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| Arabella Jacqueline Guise the day she was born |
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| Arabella at three months old |
