The Crying Game

Yes, this is the same baby.

Max has brought new joy to our lives, etc. etc....whatever...actually, really, our desperate goal since Max's birth is really simple: Minimize his crying. There are lots of books saying that sometimes babies need to cry - simply put them in another room and let them work it out. I don't care. I'm worried about myself here. I absolutely can't stand hearing him cry. And I'm not alone. Apparently it's an effective torture technique to play tapes of wailing babies. Not only that, but I'd say 90% of the time, Max will stop crying instantly when we figure out what his problem is. So what can we do?

I'll summarize the techniques we've tried, told in the voice of the nagging overseer giving advice to the stressed-out holder of the baby:

-Have you changed his diaper yet? When? Have you fed him? When? You didn't write it down? How come you don't remember? (Usually followed by mom strangling advice giver.)

-He's working through something - could you just hold him and let him work through it? (Max turns towards holder and almost ruptures eardrum with a scream.)

-I'm pretty sure he just needs to be entertained. Why don't you walk him around and jiggle him? It always works for me. I don't get why you don't just try it.

-Let him cry. Babies need to cry. It is okay. Let him cry. Max needs to cry. (Max currently lets out forlorn sob that simultaneously conveys that he utterly abandoned, is in deep pain, and is wondering why no one loves him anymore.)

-Just do what the Happiest Baby on the Block says. This guy has 20 years of experience. Why don't you just listen to him?

-Just switch his position! He doesn't like what you're doing. Are you hurting him?

-Just do what worked on him yesterday. (Note: This displays what I believe is the ultimate in naivete.)

-I think he needs (editor's note: The Option of Pure Evil, that must not be mentioned by name, is given. Okay, it will be mentioned by name later. )

-Yes, I know we changed his diaper 3 minutes ago - he may have peed again. Why not check his diaper?

-He's too cold. Babies need to be warm. You need to find his hat. His hands are cold.

-Give him tea. No, really. Tea will calm him down. You should give him tea. Tea will calm him down.

-I just held him and he was fine. Just hold him the way I held him. No, it doesn't hurt your back.

-Try a pacifier. (Pacifier is given to Max. Max spits out pacifier and wails even harder.)

-He's too hot. The house is hotter than it was yesterday.

-He's sick! You should call the doctor! We need to get him to the HOSPITAL!!!!!! NOW!!!!!! HE'S GOING TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHHH!!! (Note: This advice, so far, mercifully stops when, for example, Max poops and calms down like a light switch went off.)

Strong opinions, little data. Reminds me of politics. In any case, we've had plenty of opportunities to try all of them (except the tea, actually - tea is very popular in Europe but we're Americans, dammit, and American books say to give only breast milk.) And it's fairly easy to get him to stop crying momentarily - just distract him or move him to a different position. The key is to get him in a long state of calm - in my experience thus far, this only means sleep. Once he's calm, just the slightest misstep will make the difference between his drifting to sleep and his remembering that he's supposed to be wailing his head off.

I'll just talk about a couple methods. First, an impromptu soothing session during a hike, before and after soothing.

The strange posture and shushing comes from following the method of "The Happiest Baby on the Block" by Harvey Karp. It's highly recommended by people with impressive credentials (scroll down to the reviews). The teacher of our childbirth class played the video for us. Our pediatrition has Dr. Karp's methods summarized on a baby pamphlet. My (Todd) mom and dad saw the video, and dad said he would have gladly paid thousands of dollars for it when he was raising us. The video shows baby after baby stopping their crying as if a light switch went off. And it works, as you can see from above. If Max isn't hungry or poopy (and even if he is) I can use the methods to calm him down and get him to sleep in as few as a couple minutes (much more if he's fussy.)

The method is a 5-step program: Swaddling him up, putting him on his side or stomach,"Shusshing" him (going "Shhhhh!" into his ear loudly), swinging/swaying him, and finally, letting him suck on a binky. The author of the book says the swaddle, the loud white noise, the swinging all imitate the uterus, which will make the baby feel much more at peace and at home.

I'm not sure I buy all of that. First, is the uterus all it's cracked up to be? We all know that babies kick when moms are quiet. While Delia was pregnant, I wondered: Are they just throwing a temper tantrum, but can't be heard because their lungs are filled with fluid? This article says yes. Second, I understand why swaddling imitates the uterus, but the baby positions recommended by the author are very strange. None of them allow for easy eye contact. In fact, sometimes during the swaying, Max will turn to look at me for a bit (an apparently loving gesture), and then start screaming. Louisa, a baby we know in Sacramento, does the same thing. Finally, the uterus is supposed to be 90 dB, which is the sound of a vacuum cleaner. I had Delia shush loudly in my ear recently and there's no way it's 90 dB. It's loud. The book says that baby's ears are clogged and their eardrums haven't developed yet, which means the shushing doesn't have the same effect it would on grownups, but it's still way louder than 90 dB.

I'm starting to wonder if the soothing methods more resemble a police action. The lack of eye contact may just be to avoid confrontation - the same if you're trying to avoid aggressive action from a dog. In any case, Max clearly responds to softer sounds these days so I'm shushing much softer or just singing to him. They both work well.

Next is the jiggle chair - basically a battery-operated massage chair that's easy to bounce up and down. I wish I had one for myself. In fact, the top photo of a happy Max is taken on the jiggle chair.

The jiggle chair, however, is frought with peril. First, the battery can jiggle out or something can go out of alignment, causing the jiggle chair to be too harsh - a big problem if it happens at 2:00 am. The battery and jiggle apparatus is right next to his feet, making him upset if his feet get too close. Finally, Max has adapted to the jiggle chair and has had progressively higher standards on his ability to be soothed.

Luckily, I'm an engineer. The next photos show improvements: First, I added pads to the battery holder (A), which keeps the battery more secure. Second, I placed foam (B) on top of the jiggler to better isolate his feet. Finally, I used masking tape (C) to absorb some of the vibrations in the joints. (C) was a compromise - the vibrations are supposed to travel through the frame - but I felt it was worth it to absorb the harshest jiggles.





The improvements helped, but it's still a battle. Will Max go to sleep? Will he burst into tears? I forgot how this ended.

Max vs. jiggle chair.

Finally, I will discuss The Option of Pure Evil. It is used when we are bereft of any options or hope. When we are old and gray, the Option of Pure Evil is the most likely reason Max will dump us in a 100-square-foot retirement home staffed with angry nursing school dropouts. Pictures of the torture device are shown below.

Instrument used for the Option of Pure Evil, Figure 1. Note mirror on top left, pointing in some useless direction.

Instrument for Option of Pure Evil, Figure 2: Close-up of boppy. Note smiling bunnies and turtles, as well as the brand name: "Tiny Love."

The Option of Pure Evil is tummy time. Max is on his back constantly (because of fear of SIDS), so he never gets the opportunity to push himself off the ground. Tummy time is therefore recommended by basically everyone who knows about it. Max's chest is put on the boppy, which makes it easier to lift his head up, and even look at himself in the mirror! Isn't that precious.

Taking a neck-jarring U-turn back to reality, Max can handle perhaps 10 seconds on the boppy before going insane. I can hear through the DSL line, "Why don't you put him on the boppy when he's in a good mood?" Good point - that buys us about 2 more seconds. Then we have to spend the next half hour calming Max down.

None of us could handle tummy time, even though we're supposed to do it. However, one day, around 8pm, as usual, Max was crying his head off, pushing and kicking despite all our best efforts. So I wondered: Does he need to release some energy? Maybe we can make the whole process go faster. I put him on the boppy and let him flail around until someone in the room yelled at me to rescue our poor whimpering baby from the torture device. After the 5-minute episode, I felt like a reptile, but Max was quiet - he ate well, went to bed quickly and slept well through the night! No 3:00 am hour-long wailing session. Lest this point is missed - 5 minutes. That's how long it took for Max to work through his crying.

Max on boppy. Screeching not included in photo.

I'm ashamed to say I've used this method for the past few nights. It's worked, but, in the tradition of everything else we've tried, Max has adapted. Now he'll cry far more efficiently on the boppy, lying down without expending the effort to raise his head. This gives him the needed energy for his 12:00 am cry. Also, somehow this became my responsibility. As in, "Todd, I think he needs tummy time." Like I want to be the main subject in Max's tell-all biography.

Speaking of which, he's screaming now. I'll have to go and give Delia some advice.