Andrew was born perfect…ten fingers, ten toes. He was a healthy weight of eight pounds and had the most flawless skin Susan had ever seen. His beautiful blue eyes looked longingly into hers from the moment he was born. She was in love.
Susan had wanted to be a mother since she was ten years old. She was the oldest of seven children and a nurse. She had been around babies all her life and was very comfortable feeding, changing, rocking, whatever was necessary. Her husband had been excited since the moment she presented him with the positive home pregnancy test. There was no anxiety like some of her friends seemed to have, only joy - even through the morning sickness.
But things weren’t going as Susan had anticipated; it seemed so much different when the baby was her own. Her beautiful Andrew was hangry twenty four hours a day. He didn’t appear to tolerate her breast milk - everything she fed him ended up on her clothes or the furniture - or both. The perfect skin he was born with was now covered with a rash. He was clearly very unhappy. She was beyond exhausted and suddenly very insecure about everything.
Susan had recently befriended her new neighbor, Grace, over their flower gardens. Grace watched with delight while Susan’s pregnancy progressed, and was almost as excited as the parents when Andrew was born. Grace was a widow whose children were now adults. She had no grandchildren; even her children seemed to rarely come around. One evening when Susan took Andrew outside, hoping the change in scenery would calm him, Grace made her way into the yard.
“He sounds just like my Robert used to sound at about 5:00 every night. My husband and I used to swear we could set our clocks by Robert’s fussiness.”
Susan felt embarrassed that she couldn’t console her own child, and she broke down in spite of herself.
“I thought I understood babies, but I don’t know how to make him happy. I thought maybe he wasn’t getting enough nourishment with my milk, so I stopped breastfeeding. I’ve changed formulas twice thinking this rash was an allergic reaction. I’ve asked my pediatrician for help, but he acts like nothing is wrong. My mom isn’t around anymore and my mother-in-law swears she never had a baby this fussy. No matter what I do, he seems so unhappy.” Now Susan and Andrew were both crying.
“Nonsense!” Grace said. “Andrew probably just has colic like my Robert did.”
Susan had heard of colic, but thought it affected babies whose parents were “uncomfortable” handling infants; she hated to think of herself that way. Grace gently held open her arms, offering to hold Andrew.
“You are doing a great job, honey. His fussiness will subside - probably at about four months just like most babies. This is not because you are doing something wrong; some babies just need to get their GI tract figured out in the beginning.”
The relief Susan felt from her neighbor’s kind words was immense, and three months later they proved to be true. Her clothes still often smelled like formula, but Andrew was chubby and happy and had the most beautiful smile. And skin. Susan couldn’t believe she loved him even more than the day he was born.
She also couldn’t believe how much a neighbor’s experience and kind words could help!