My mom’s group was well aware of Amelia’s crying problem. They had offered many different solutions many different times. Most of them I had heard before and already tried. When it was my turn to share this week, however, I really let loose. I finally let on that I wasn’t okay; that Amelia wasn’t okay. That we were both really, really not okay. I admitted that I was beginning to feel like having a child ruined my life and that I was a terrible mother. I told them that I had fantasies of just leaving in the middle of the night and never coming back; of abandoning my family. I was at my wits end and needed a miracle. As soon as I was done sharing, a slew of suggestions starting coming my way.

At first, all of the suggestions the moms offered I had tried. Some

people suggested cutting out dairy and soy. Others swore by reflux medications and inclined sleeping positions. Swaddling, pacifiers, swings, rocking and bicycle legs seemed to be among the most popular. I was growing frustrated and losing hope in a new solution. But then someone said a single word that saved my life: probiotics.

If there was even a snow ball’s chance in hell that probiotics could make Amelia feel better (and keep me from driving us into a wall), I was in.

As soon as group was over, I drove to the health food store and bought my first bottle of baby probiotics. We started giving them to Amelia that night and within two weeks they began to work their magic. Amelia went from crying about 7 hours a day to only 2. A month later, she was hardly crying at all.

Having your child scream in pain and feeling helpless to do anything about it is a terrible feeling. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t reflect on “the colic” days and how grateful I am that they are over. I feel so lucky to have had the support I did. I don’t think that I would have made it otherwise.


** Thank you to ALL of my mom friends who offered me their support and sympathy during one of the most difficult times in my life. And, thank you mom for the countless hours you spent listening to both your daughter and granddaughter cry. You are all loved!

Once Amelia began really whaling, she didn’t stop for nearly two months.

At first, I was in denial. People hinted at colic. I knew what colic was, but was sure that my child didn’t have it. I believed that her 7 hour crying fits were caused more by her personality than a physical ailment

All babies are different, right?

But, as time went on, her crying got worse and I started to lose my cool. It was time to say something at my mom’s group.

The next Tuesday morning I shared my concerns with my fellow moms. As I described what was happening, I could see eyes start to widen. People either looked shocked or sorry for me. The more concerned looks I got, the more I began to fear that there was a problem; that her fits of crying were not normal. By the time I left that meeting, I was desperate to find someone else in my boat. And so, at each group meeting, I listened anxiously  to each mom’s share, hoping to hear a similar story of crying. It took a few weeks, but I eventually found another mom and baby who were in the same terrible predicament as Amelia and myself. But, unlike me, this mom seemed to know what was wrong with her baby. She said that her son had colic and that her doctor had diagnosed it. I left that meeting with a little bit of hope and an appointment to see my pediatrician.

My doctor’s appointment did not go well. I had hoped to find knowledgeable doctors full of remedies for my dear daughter. Instead, I found out that  they don’t know why she is crying and the name for not knowing is colic. My heart sank and my hopes died. My doctor gave me a few sympathetic pats and sent me on my way. I walked to my car with my head hung lower than I would like to admit with a screaming baby in tow. I felt completely defeated.

Getting in the car didn’t do anything to help my daughter calm down. The index finger that usually calmed her (yes, I would reach my arm behind my seat and let her suck on my finger ) was not even making a dent in her blood curdling screams. I had a very sudden and very strong erge to drive my car into the side of my doctors office. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. I needed a minute to gather my thoughts without a screaming infant in the back seat or an audience of nurses peeking out the front windows. So, I drove across the street and parked my car. It was time to do some thinking.

I turned my radio to a static station and turned to the volume all the way up. I put one window down and got out of my car. After a few moments of contemplation on what to do next, I began walking laps around my car. After about the tenth lap, I took my still screaming daughter out of her car seat and began walking around the parking lot. I walked circle after circle around that parking lot, trying to come up with a solution to our crying problem. By the time my daughter stopped crying and I had gathered enough courage to face the car ride home, I had reached a decision. Come hell or high water, I was going to find a way to ease my daughter’s suffering…