Babies are different

This is something I've actually wanted to blog about for months but today I saw an article on Facebook that reminded me of it. 

The gist of the article was that babies are not one size fits all. Some are difficult, some are easy, and many fall in that vast range. And that easy baby that's such a good sleeper isn't because the parents are magical, it's sheer, dumb luck. 

I am here to say that a couple years ago, I didn't really know this to be true. As a first time mom, I was always troubleshooting. Why the hell was my baby crying so much? She could cry for literally hours straight. One time I called the doctor and told them my daughter has been crying for two hours - clean diaper, fed, no matter how I held her, rocked her, put her down - it just wouldn't stop. They told me to make sure her needs were met. I had just told her they were though. I remember my mom coming over so Brian and I could just leave and go for a walk to get a small break from the non stop wails. 

At two months, Hartley's doctor diagnosed her... as a sensitive baby. I'll never forget the doctor told me I was doing a fantastic job but I just had a baby that was sensitive in every way. Sensitive stomach, sensitive to people, sensitive to different places, sensitive to how she was held or what she was doing. In a way, it was a relief. Finally A DOCTOR told me that I wasn't crazy, and I wasn't a terrible mom. But also, what I then realized was this wasn't likely "a phase". Note to past self: it definitely was not a phase. 

Hartley slowly adjusted to the world. But even now, she is slow to warm. The other day in baby ballerinas she was the only little girl that cried in class. She wasn't crying for any other reason than being very unsure of these new people and new surroundings. All the other ballerinas hopped, galloped, skipped during circle time - and I carried Hartley hopping, galloping and skipping along with them. I didn't want to leave the class. Me two years ago would've left the class in tears. But me now, knows to reassure Hartley but challenge her to try something she's not used to. I stayed positive and reminded her the entire time, "mommy is right here. I'm not leaving you." And when Hartley went up in front of the class (with me by her side), she refused to do a somersault like the rest of the girls, everyone laughed because it was cute. She thought everyone was laughing at her, and she bawled. I actually remember doing that so many times as a kid. You see, I was a sensitive baby and child, too. I was slow to warm. In fact, I'm still both of those things. 

However, I digress. When I was expecting Patrick, I was terrified. I was having panic attacks about how I could possibly spend hours trying to soothe a screaming baby while juggling my toddler. I often joke with people I had PTSD after Hartley's early babyhood. But even said in jest, there was a great deal of truth to that. At the end of my pregnancy my blood pressure was high and my liver was becoming sluggish. The doctors told me I had to calm down - that this baby could be a totally different experience. I thought they were all morons. 

Well, Patrick Frank entered this world as cool as a cucumber. I swear, I don't think I heard him cry his first week of life. In contrast, Hartley cried every single minute she was awake her second day of life - no exaggeration. It was the hardest day of my life.

So I asked the doctors, was something wrong with Patrick? Why wasn't he crying more? When was he going to start screaming? "He might just be an easy baby" they said. 

At his two week appointment, there were two women in the waiting room that had their two week old babies with them. Both of them were with their husbands. Both talking about how tough things were going, and the group looked a little defeated. And here I was, without my husband, feeding my 10 pound two-week old, he was happy as a clam, loving life. I honestly kind of felt like I was on vacation because I didnt have my toddler in tow. I swore up and down to both of them that this was some freak happening. I'm not a baby whisperer, I don't have my shit together, and the other shoe will drop soon. 

When I was back with the doctor, I again asked what was wrong. Why wasn't Patrick crying? And he was sleeping so much! Not on my chest - in a bassinet! 

The doctor told me everything checked out with Patrick; I should just savor this.

I savored it but I was always waiting for the boom. Every time I said he was easy I wondered if I was jinxing myself. I wasn't. He really was the world's easiest newborn. 

As he grows older, I see more of his personality shining through. He is so completely different from Hartley in every way. It's often very strange for me to be having the complete opposite experience from Hartley at his age. Neither is better or worse than the other - just so incredibly different. 

On a scale of 1-10, 1 being easiest, 10 being the hardest: I'd give Hartley a 9.5 and Patrick a 1. And I'm actually so happy about the order in which we had them. Hartley couldn't do errands or sit down restaurants as a baby (without screaming bloody murder) but Patrick surely can. We can go places as a family of four, and I don't feel panicked, anxious and judged. Ok, I felt a tiny bit judged in baby ballet but my girl and I are going to own it and rock it anyway!

But one of the main reasons I wanted to write this, sometimes I see girls on social media who seem frazzled while others seem like peaceful goddess mamas. I wish I had realized that Hartley being a "tough" baby wasn't because I was a shitty mom. I had a baby that no baby whisperer could tame And my first go around to boot! So, of course I was one of the frazzled moms! In the midst of it, I couldn't see clearly but now I know I should've cut myself a break, and I shouldn't have compared myself to anyone else. 

And the second time around with an easy baby, I've thanked God so many times for that "break". It's not because I'm some magical, 2nd time mom unicorn that my son didn't cry as a newborn. I almost wanted to type a disclaimer on his sweet newborn pictures "disclaimer: he's easy and I've earned an easy baby". 

I can also say, if some women say they love the newborn stage - they probably have an easy baby. I LOVED Patrick's newborn stage. I could have lived it the rest of my life. Hartley's was easily the worst time of my life, and you couldn't pay me to go back there. Sorry bout it. 

Another interesting point, 7 months was the age when Hartley got easier because she loves to be active and this was the age she started getting around well. Patrick cries more now than he did as a newborn because he physically can't get around much, and he's frustrated.  See - opposites. Don't ask me how my first child took her first steps at 10 months and was running outside just after her first birthday - I don't foresee that for Patrick. 

I leave you on this note - you know how all people are different? Well take a minute to think about that. Babies are just very young people - so doesn't it make a great deal of sense that they should all be different from one another, too?