My daughter was colicky in the second and third months of her life, and most nights during that period were spent in the trenches of hell. Every second felt like moving through mud. I needed ear plugs like I needed air and water. My husband and I were desperate and stressed, but mostly our hearts were cracking open for our helpless baby who spent far too many hours red-faced, arched back, and filling the night air with gut-wrenching shrills. It was crushing. In retrospect, I do not cherish those awful moments of elusive screaming — not a single one of them. Nor will I ever.
We do others a cruel disservice when we shame them for how they feel, or when we advise them to cherish moments that actually suck, and that test their sanity, and that require nothing more than sheer survival. No matter what anyone says, it's totally OK to not cherish every witching hour that threatens the function of your eardrums. It doesn't mean you don't love and cherish your baby. It means you're being honest with yourself, and few things in life are more important than that.