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June 07, 2006



My worst parenting moment came when my eldest was about seven weeks old. Seven weeks old and colicky. The screaming started late afternoon and continued non-stop till one in the morning. Every day.

I remember one day, as my sweet, purple-faced baby lay screaming in her crib, I pounded the mattress with my fists on either side of her, pleading, "PLEASE! Just Go. To. SLEEEEEP! PLEASE!"

It was when I saw her tiny body bouncing up that I raced from the room in horror. Lay sobbing on my bed.

I know now that almost everyone at some point desperately wishes they could escape the ceaseless demands of a newborn. I further note that, despite my desperation, I did not lay a hand on that child, and we've had a many years of happy interactions since then. (Starting when her colic ceased some six or eight weeks later!) :-)

But still. It's not a happy memory. I cringe when I tell people of it, as I occasionally do, waiting for the judgement to fall on me, knowing that it's undeserved, but expecting it nonetheless.

That may well be why we don't tell: fear of being judged lacking in this most significant of roles and relationships.


The only way we'll ever educate other parents is to keep talking about it! It's not pretty, but you can't shy away from it. And I think sharing it makes us stronger parents, and let's others know that they aren't alone, and more importantly, it will pass. And that sometimes it requires help to pass, but it will pass.

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