2003-10-02 - 1:00 p.m. - Cycle day:

Yesterday was a hard day.

M. was fussy from the moment she woke up, and my tolerance was low to begin with. I had realized the night before that I had a plugged milk duct, and the La Leche League book recommended rest as the first line of defense. So of course, the more I wanted to relax and stay in bed, the fussier M. got. I started feeling quite sorry for myself - on top of the plugged duct, which was causing me to run a low fever, I started counting all my other physical discomforts - several different kinds of back pain, a four-week-long period, a bleeding hemorrhoid, and now stabbing pain in my hugely engorged breasts. I don't know if M. picked up on how crappy I felt or if she had her own issues to resolve, but she was in a state all day. She refused to sleep anywhere but my arms. If she was sound asleep, I could set her down for maybe five minutes while I brushed my teeth or let out the dog, but beyond that, she'd start to melt down. I have no idea what was bothering her - maybe her stomach was upset, maybe the sudden fall weather made her uncomfortably cold, maybe she just needed to vent some newborn frustration, who knows? But it kept up all evening. She'd just scream and scream until she wore herself out, then she'd sleep (in my arms), and then it would start all over. The Husband came home early to help out, and by the end of the night said "Aren't you going crazy? You've been dealing with this all day." I'm sure that if I were trying to get anything done other than keep the baby alive, I probably would have gone crazy. Right now, I can handle focusing on her all day, and I have patience for her inexplicable behavior that I might not have if I felt any sort of pressure to accomplish non-baby-related tasks. Sure, it's frustrating and sad as hell not to know what's bothering her, but I try to keep in mind that all baby states are temporary. Plus I think there's always a degree of potential responsiblity, like "Maybe that sausage pizza I ate is bothering her" or "That new detergent might be irritating." If I can make myself feel at least partially to blame for her behavior, it's harder to get upset about it.

Anyway, she kept the random screaming up until about 11:00, and then I reached for the Rescue Remedy. I'm not a big fan of medicating kids for no good reason - I politely ignore my parent friends who insist that we stockpile Mylicon - but I gotta tell you, a couple drops of the RR and M. was almost instantly calm.

Of course, then I had to convince myself that it was totally safe and she wasn't having some sort of respiratory distress reaction that caused her to go into a semi-coma state. The mama guilt never ends.

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