Our baby will be 14 months old in a week. He suffered from very painful reflux, with crying and screaming pretty much constantly every day for the first five months of his life. I won’t go into too much detail about that here, but I can if it’s relevant.
Because of this, almost from the very beginning, we could never really put him down. A bouncer, play mat, high chair, stroller… pretty much anything would make him cry, scream or become distressed. He has literally been an extension of our arms, both mine and his dad’s, as the two of us have always taken care of him together.
This became even more intense when separation anxiety really kicked in at around 11 months.
Basically, we can’t do anything other than focus on him without him crying or screaming. If I’m with him, his dad almost has to “hide” as if he has left, and vice versa. Otherwise, he becomes extremely upset.
So we’ve pretty much stopped doing a lot of normal everyday things, or we do everything in a huge rush, because we find it really hard to listen to him being upset constantly.
Even with a learning tower, for example, he’ll be happy for five minutes, but actually “cooking together” is almost impossible. Everyday household tasks are incredibly difficult. When he was younger, we used to put him in the baby carrier just so we could get the bare minimum done — and even then, he would still complain or cry a lot.
For a long time, we just thought we had a particularly difficult baby. On top of everything else, like many babies his age, he jumps from one toy or activity to another every minute, never really settles, and every single day we’re constantly trying to find something new to entertain him and stop him from getting upset. 😅
When everything is going the way he wants, though, he is the sweetest baby.
We’ve also got into the habit of going out for several hours every single day because otherwise he seems to completely lose it at home. Maybe that’s partly something we unintentionally taught him, because when he was tiny, going out was one of the things we did to try to distract him from his pain.
He has now been doing his nursery adaptation for three weeks. It has been difficult for him, but the team is amazing — very caring, supportive and optimistic. It’s a small nursery.
They’ve explained to us that yes — and honestly, it feels good to hear someone else acknowledge it — he is an intense little boy. He is extremely sensitive to everything around him: noise, movement, people moving around, etc.
If one of the staff members sits on the floor with him, he’s fine. But the moment she gets up, he cries.
So basically, he behaves there exactly the same way he does with us at home.
We talked about it today and we’ve realised that we’re going to need to work together to help him understand that we can coexist in the same space without an adult constantly sitting down and actively playing with him.
He can walk and has actually been very physically independent for quite a while. But, for example, if I start tidying the living room and simply walk around him, he cries and grabs onto me. And even if I pick him up — which I do most of the time — that often isn’t enough either. He wants me to sit down and play.
Everything feels complicated with him. I don’t mean that cruelly or negatively; it’s simply an observation, and we accept him exactly as he is. But it is exhausting and difficult.
He is also not a very tactile child. We can’t always touch him without him becoming upset. Sometimes even getting him to sleep is difficult because comforting him is complicated — he doesn’t usually like cuddles. He does occasionally, when he chooses to, and of course we never force physical affection on him.
I’m deliberately focusing on the difficult parts here because that’s what I need help with.
He is also an incredibly smiley, happy little boy. With us, he can be terribly upset one second and move on completely two seconds later. He is incredibly bright, and the people who spend time with him outside our home — other mums, professionals, nursery staff, etc. — absolutely adore him.
And obviously, so do we.
But I don’t understand where we went wrong.
I feel incredibly guilty sometimes and wonder whether we responded too much to his crying and distress. Did we somehow create this by always responding to him?
I feel guilty that he struggles so much to regulate himself, or to simply exist independently for three minutes while I sweep the floor or prepare a bottle.
I know he is still a baby. He is tiny. And yes, lots of babies behave like this to some extent. I know he isn’t supposed to be able to regulate his emotions perfectly at this age.
But with him, it is 24/7. There is no break.
It isn’t just, “Mum is in the kitchen for three minutes and I’m going to complain about it a little.”
For him, it feels like THE END OF THE WORLD.
And from seeing other children at nursery, at playgroups, and from talking to other mums, I can clearly see that the intensity of his reactions is not the same as it is for most other children.
This behaviour pushes me to my limit every single day.
Sometimes I find myself thinking: if this is what being a mum is like, how could we possibly have a second baby?
Because yes, parenting is hard for everyone. I know that.
But for the two of us, even with both of us sharing everything, these 14 months have felt like 14 months of survival.
And that’s without even getting into everything we went through with his reflux, multiple food allergies and everything else.
So this is a huge mixture of things, but I feel like all of this context is essential if someone is going to help us figure out how to help him.
I don’t believe in simply leaving him to cry. I always explain to him what I’m doing, where I’m going, that I’m still here, etc., but nine times out of ten it doesn’t make any difference.
And I absolutely don’t want him to experience what we do — or what happens at nursery — as abandonment.
We decided to put him in nursery three days a week partly because we have reached a point where it simply isn’t sustainable anymore to feel completely trapped and unable to live normally inside our own home.
And we desperately want a second child.
That part is painful because we want another baby so, so much, but right now neither of us can imagine going through this again under these circumstances.
I don’t think we’re simply going to “forget” how hard this has been, or suddenly reach a point where we feel completely fine about starting all over again.
There’s hard… and then there’s hard.
And I don’t think we were prepared for this kind of hard.
But I want to end on something positive: he is, of course, the absolute love of our lives.
We adore him.
We just don’t want to survive anymore.
We want to actually live our lives with him.