This post is inspired by a friend going through colic. It takes me back to Crabby ass Cash. My friend, we'll call her June as in June Clever, said that someone told her her feelings weren't normal. I'm here to tell her and all of you. It's TOTALLY FUCKING NORMAL!!!
Colic is crying 24/7 for 3 months straight. Pure hell. It's the worst sound in the world and you think there's nothing in the world that you can do to make it stop. You're already going through a whirl wind of hormones that make you fucking bizerk, the crying is the final buckle on your straight jacket.
You begin to despise everything your spouse does because he gets a break. He gets to go to work for 8 hours and your trapped alone with a crazy baby. I imagined myself smothering Don with a pillow just because he was breathing. I swore Cash hated me. Everyone else could calm him down except for me. I only lugged his big ass around for 9 months PLUS one extra week. I had my stomach sliced open to give him life. One would think he should be grateful and shut the hell up for 5 minutes so I can recollect my wits. Not for me. Everyone else but not me.
When you think about getting in your car and running away as far as you can go with no cell phone, you're not alone. When you find yourself thinking about putting the baby outside with a sign saying "Return to Sender, Defective" you're not alone. When you temporarily hate your spouse and everyone/thing around you, you're not alone. And anytime you feel like you're alone, send me a message. I'm happy to reassure you, we all think the same things!
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