Last night, Lucy screamed and cried for 90 minutes straight. Jason and I are convinced that every baby has a “thing.” We escaped colic, gassiness, and sleeping problems, but teething has proven to be Lucy’s archnemesis. Those 90 minutes last night definitely ranked up there as some of the worst minutes of my life. Screaming “mama” over and over again, Lucy was in pain and she wanted me to take the pain away.
I tried everything…
- Walking her around the house. (Check.)
- Singing. (Check.)
- Talking softly. (Check.)
- Tylenol. (Check.)
- Playing her favorite song on the iPod. (Check.)
- Rocking her in the glider. (Check.)
The results were the same every time: frustration and anger. The only thing that would keep her as calm as she was going to be in this pain-filled state was to just let her sit on my lap and “be.” No talking. No pursuading. No distracting. No touching, even. She was in pain and she needed to scream it out.
This experience taught me that “noise” can be annoying.
Sometimes it’s necessary to just sit and be. It allows you the opportunity to truly engage in the moment. We’re so good at filling our attention with noise. To me, the sign of a great relationships is when you can be together for hours and not have to talk hardly at all. Comfortable silence is the litmus test of a solid relationship. It’s pretty refreshing to just shut up and be together – no TV, no music, no distractions. Eventually, Lucy’s screaming turned to silence and she sat still on my lap exhausted.
These 90-minutes also taught me that sometimes pain can’t be taken away.
I am often guilty of packaging problems into tidy little boxes, so that they will have equally tidy solutions. Life doesn’t always work this way. Sometimes pain is pain and you have to just experience it.
Sure, there’s a pill for almost every problem, but are we missing out on the opportunity for a spiritual experience by muting every little ache (emotional and physical)? If you avoid all pain, you miss out on a part of being human.
At a recent funeral I attended, the priest said something that will stick with me forever. He said to those present, “Your pain today proved that you really loved.” What a gift it is to love so deeply that you put yourself in the position of loss and heartache.
Lucy was born in the water at the Madison Birth Center – a natural childbirth with no meds. This experience taught me a book full of lessons, but if I had to summarize it into one sentence it would be this: “Pain teaches you about yourself.” When you have to rely on something greater than yourself in order to continue, you realize the true source of your strength (and it’s NOT you). It’s humbling and empowering all at once.
What has pain taught you about life?
How has your pain impacted your view of yourself?
it must be a big responsibility to raise a child
yes noise is extremely annoying i have tried to buy glass sheets that isolate noise in my room but didn’t manage to do that yet
thanks for the post:)
Aw, poor Lucy (and poor you & Jason!) Have your ears stopped ringing yet???!?
Anyway, there was a time about 10 years ago that I was experiencing some pain from surgery. I’d had a pain pill but I couldn’t take another one and the pain was still there. On the wall of my room at the time was a picture of Jesus on the Cross. I looked at the picture and literally said a prayer very similar to this: “Lord, the pain I’m going through is nothing like the pain You went through. You offered your pain and suffering for the sins of the world. So, I offer up MY little pain and suffering for the comfort of those who live in constant pain and do not have the luxury of painkillers as I do.”
I can’t say that the pain went completely away, but somehow it was just a little more easy to bear, and I was able to get back to sleep and rest so I could recover. I’ve always remembered that moment and still think of it at times.
Oh, wow, poor kiddo. I remember my little one crying for about 40 minutes once with no evident problem. I was beside myself because it was so unusual. That is a hard place to be as a parent. Good post with much to ponder. This post reminds me a bit of a book I just read: Desire by John Eldredge. Sometimes there is nothing to be done but surrender to the moment.
2 words: frozen waffles
I can understand what you are going through….. My first child was delivered wrong and deprived of oxygen during the birthing process. He had non-stop seizures, cried all day from the pain he was in. Cried so hard when he got his teeth he developed a hernia in his groin….. The day he passed away I knelt next to his hospital bed and I said out loud, Lord either heal him now on Earth or heal him in Heaven. As a Mother I could not see him suffer anymore, it was so hard. He was blind and his tear ducts did not work. But he looked right at me, with big tears rolling down his cheeks. Within minutes he was healed, not as I wanted him to be healed here on Earth. But he was healed, he was with the Lord……. He was saying Goodbye.
I could write a book about the pain of loosing my first child…. But joy does come in the morning. The Lord blessed me with two more wonderful, healthy children. I feel liked the most blessed woman in the world. Sometimes we have to go through pain in this life of ours to really, truly, understand what is important.
Julie,
I’m so, so very sorry for your loss. You’ve got an angel in Heaven watching over you now!
Kim,
The same can be said for mental or emotional pain. Recently a friend thought her dog was dying and was so distraught it was heart-breaking to listen to. Even though my own dog passed away 2 years ago, it brought tears to my eyes remembering. I had to walk away and cry for a few minutes while I missed anew the joy she brought to my life.
After the cry I felt better, like a weight had been lifted. It just reminded me that for certain special “people” in our lives, the pain will always be there. It’s a reminder not to miss out on the sweetness and love in your life right now. :)
Thanks for this, Kim. In the past year and a half, I’ve experienced the kind of emotional pain that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. And just when I thought things were getting better, I’d get hit with something new and sent down that same path again. But it’s a reminder that I’m human, and I’d rather experience this kind of pain and loss than not ever have anything or anybody worth losing in my life.
But I could also use a break about now!