|but if it was, i'd totally be winning right now. (source)|
In my utmost naivety, I assumed the worst that would happen would be we'd have another colicky infant like Elden. And we had survived that once, so worst case scenario, it would be like all we had known as parents.
I failed to factor in reflux. I also failed to factor in a twonager who loves to give attitude and throw tantrums all the live long day. We got the Zantac yesterday and after another crappy couple of hours decided to give it a go.
The magical reflux cure? It hurt Edith's belly in a bad way. We continued with two additional doses into this morning.
Wanna know how much sleep we got last night? Maybe 5 hours of intermittent episodes. She wouldn't sleep. Not in the swing. Not in our arms. Not in her crib. She also wouldn't nap yesterday or this morning. Hindsight being what it is, even though the colic stunk big time the one thing we could count on was Elden would sleep like a champ at night. We would be refreshed for each day of crying thanks to a single middle of the night nursing session. Edith just wasn't sleeping at all during the day and then not sleeping last night was a tipping point. I've left a message with her pediatrician to see if we could try a different medicine but if not we're not continuing with the Zantac. Reflux Edith was at least semi-sleeping at night. Zantac Edith raged like a frat boy on Thirsty Thursday. Since her days have been so sleepless, she's not on any predictable schedule other than attempting to nurse her for half an hour, keep her up for play time for half an hour, then sleep for 2-2.5 hours. Lather, rinse, repeat. Minus the lather and rinse because ain't nobody got time for a shower these days.
Suffice to say, it's major survival mode in casa de flip these days. Yesterday was Jon's birthday. I can't speak for him, but I'm going to speak for him and say it was a pretty lousy birthday. We're hoping for some improvements in the next week because I feel like a shell of the person I used to be. My tank is empty. I've cried more in the past week than I think I did my entire pregnancy (which was a LOT). I told Jon I wanted to purge all my maternity clothes so as to not tempt myself for another shorty down the road (since, you know, we're batting 0 for 2 in the happy baby department) but he said he knows me and in a year I'll have mad baby fever so I should wait. So let's throw this post in the archives for future Danielle to read when the urge to procreate slaps me in the face.