Del and Co. have had a hard few days.
It seems that Del hates burping. Definition of “hates”: grimaces, arches back, wriggles uncomfortably, cries in distress, coughs and occasionally manages to get spit up to come out his nose, along with producing burps that, once out, provide instant but short-lived relief. It isn’t pretty. Such traumatic burp sessions following a perfectly nice nursing interrupt the usual cycle of nursing to sleep – meaning once Del has managed to dislodge the offending gas, he’s wide awake and in need of comfort. These gassy sessions correspond with his evening cluster nursing anyway, so he’s eating more frequently. And he’s having a growth spurt, we think. A perfect storm of distress. A trifecta of tears.
And after about three cycles of this, mommy cries too. I nursed Del last night till my nipples were raw. I don’t know how he was still getting any food out of there – and maybe he wasn’t and that’s how he finally calmed down. But all in all we spent about four hours straight, Zach and I swapping who would burp him, who would change the diaper, and who held him while the other tried to eat some dinner. (Oh yeah, I also have lost all ability to cook a decent meal in which all parts are done at the same time and nothing is burned and/or undercooked.) Every nap attempt was thwarted by a poopy diaper or onset of gassiness. Every nursing interrupted by painful gas that often caused him to cry harder and louder than he ever has in his nearly 21 days of infant life. And yes, I cried too… around 11 pm when Zach had gone to take a quick bath and I had tried to make The Wonder Years play on Netflix and it got stalled at 99% buffered and I had a sad, sad, screaming baby on my shoulder and couldn’t manage to put my boob back into my bra or keep a burp cloth under Del’s mouth… somewhere about the time he coughed some spit up out of his nose and I got so sorry for him and his pain… I sobbed right along with him. With Fred Savage’s prepubescent face grinning down at me as my baby and I blubbered together in the rocking chair. It was a pitiful sight.
My sleepy husband must have wished he could get back in the tub when he came out and saw us. I imagine we looked terrible.
All’s well that ends well, though. Del finally calmed around midnight, nursing with me in bed, and slept beside me for an hour or so before I moved him to his cozy little Nap Nanny, and tucked his hand-knit blanket around him. He slept peacefully. Mom and Dad slept peacefully. And Del seems happier and more comfortable today – maybe he is just a morning person.