Swisda Facebook ad: “Read If You Are An Exhausted Mom”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

1021026287154342

Platforms

Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network, Messenger and Threads

Relaunches

1

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He won't leave my arms. I've bought everything. Nothing works. And right now? I can't even put him down. Not for one minute. Not for ten seconds. The moment my body leaves his, it's blood-curdling screams. I've been zoned out since week three. I've tried everything. A weighted swaddle. The yoga ball bounce. Sound machines. Cosleeping. Sleep training. He'll fall asleep on my chest after an hour of bouncing. Snoring. Deeply in, deeply out. I lower him toward the bassinet, the SECOND his back touches the mattress, his eyes fly open and he screams and cries like he's been left in the wild to die. The pediatrician shrugged at the 4 month check-up. "It'll pass." Translation: Figure it out yourself. And I'm running out of time. My mother-in-law keeps calling. "Have you tried just putting him down? All four of mine slept through by 6 weeks." Translation: You're doing something wrong. My sister-in-law's baby naps in the stroller. In the swing. On a playmat. "Just leave him for a few minutes, he'll figure it out!" Just you wait. Just put him down. Just let him cry. Just sleep when the baby sleeps. Internal eye roll, every single time. I used to be the "patient one." The "motherly one." The one my friends said would be such a good mom. I worked hard for my degree. I had a career I loved. I have 36 unread text messages from friends I haven't replied to in three months. Now? I'm so far from the person I used to be that it actually scares me. I'm quite literally a shell of a person. And I'm starting to panic. That I'll get fired. That my husband will resent me. That this is just my life now, pinned to a couch, eating cold leftovers one-handed, hostage in my own home to a baby who won't let me put him down. Then last night I hit rock bottom. It was 2am. He'd been screaming for two hours. I had bounced. I nursed. I paced the hallway. I had tried the sound machine on "ocean," then "rain." Nothing. And I caught myself in the entryway. Coat on. Shoes on. Keys in my hand. Like I was actually going to walk out the door at 2am and leave my baby behind. I sank down on the welcome mat and sobbed into my coat. He was still screaming upstairs. My husband was still asleep. The dog was watching me like I was the unhinged one. I hated my life. I was just scraping by. Barely functional. AND it wasn't even sunrise yet. I was done. Checked out. I cannot live like this anymore. Then a mom in one of my 2am threads said one line that rearranged my whole brain. She said you're not touched out because your baby is high needs. You're touched out because the second you put him down, there is nothing left in that room worth being calm for. Think about it. The swing just rocks. The bouncer just sits there. The sound machine plays the same loop into an empty crib. Every single thing I had bought was inanimate. It didn't move. It didn't react. It didn't do anything when he looked at it. And then there was me. I move. I talk. I make faces. I react when he babbles. I am the only thing in his entire world that does something back. So of course he loses it the moment I leave. I am not just his comfort. I am the only interesting thing in the room. That was the part nobody told me. He wasn't screaming because he's broken, or because I failed him. He was screaming because I walked away and took the only show in town with me. So I stopped hunting for a better swing. A swing was never going to fix this. A swing does nothing. I went looking for the one thing that could actually do something when I couldn't. That's the Dancing Giraffe. It is not a swing and it is not a sound machine. It dances. It moves. It plays little songs and reacts to him. When he babbles at it, it babbles back. When he reaches out and bats at it, it responds. It is soft enough to stay tucked right next to him, so he still has something there to hold onto. But the part that changed everything is that it does not just sit there like everything else I wasted money on. It gives him something to watch. Something to reach for. Something that answers him. For the first time, when I put him down, the room did not go quiet. There was still something there doing a little show just for him. The first time I tried it, I expected nothing. I had been burned too many times. I switched it on, set it next to him, and braced for the scream. He stopped. He stared at it. His hand came up to touch it. And he forgot, for a minute, that I had stepped away. I am not going to tell you he sleeps twelve hours now. He doesn't. He is still a high needs baby and he probably always will be. But that afternoon I ate a hot meal with two hands while he watched the giraffe dance. I answered four of the thirty six texts I'd been ignoring for three months. I put him down and he was busy instead of heartbroken. That was the whole thing I had been begging for. Not a different baby. Just twenty minutes where I am not the only thing keeping him from falling apart. If you've already bought the swing, the bouncer, the wrap and the bassinet, I get why you don't want to spend another dollar. Neither did I. So they give you 30 days to try it. Set it next to your velcro baby and watch what he does. You are not a bad mom. Your baby is not broken. You have just been handing him inanimate toys and wondering why only you will do. Give him something that does something. And give yourself twenty minutes back. The link's below, take a look!

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swisda.com

Read If You Are An Exhausted Mom 😩

Read If You Are An Exhausted Mom 😩