My Child’s Guidebook | It DOES Exist

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The desire to research the cosmos surrounding my third born child was not a random idea I had in the middle of changing a poopy diaper. It was a whisper that I kept pushing away and disbelieving for months. But something told me it held the mysteries to my colicky son. I needed answers.

Oliver was born in the heat of August. I was excited to have my third (and last) born child. This was right in the middle of the Covid Pandemic. Wearing masks nonstop while having a hard time breathing in the first place while waddling around didn’t really have me in a good mood most of the time. I was ready to give birth, stay home, work remote, and live life as a hermit with my little family in our beautiful farm house in the Pacific Northwest. I imagined sipping some tea while rocking my newborn baby on our porch swing, while watching the sunset against the Cascade view we loved so dearly. I knew the return of limited sleep would suck, but I had survived it two times before and it’s a short stage so–I got this (again)…. Yeah. Right.

The minute Oliver was born, I could tell he was different. I know every child is unique and different, but that’s not the different I was sensing. He was special in some way that I did not know yet. I immediately felt a connection between us, like an invisible string. I pushed it aside as I felt it as if it was my unstable emotions beginning to level out as I pushed out the placenta. I held him close while I looked down at him beginning to calm down while he clung to me for dear life. I remember his lips parting, his heart settling while he listened to my shushing and soothing voice. I cried. I had never cried during either of my first two births, but with him, it was different. I immediately felt connected to him. It was like I could feel that he needed me, and he knew he did. 

Like I said, I did not really focus long on that weird new feeling I had when we first embraced. I was too busy securing a contract with a new client while laying in my hospital bed, breast feeding a baby in one hand and finger banging my phone in the other. I was a happy, successful woman; a woman who finally had her life together, who learned to put herself first and bring in money from numerous channels to secure a cosy retirement someday…. This was me. Whatever I had felt, I had quickly forgotten.

The first night with him was immediately different. My first two children had slept hours, exhausted from the birthing ordeal they survived. Not Oliver. He was wide awake from the moment we touched. He wanted me, and only me. I wasn’t able to get the much needed sleep I needed from the birthing ordeal either, but not by choice. Nevertheless, this was my third child, so I knew what to expect, even though that first night surprised me. I shrugged it off. Eventually he would be having his naps, we would get into a good rhythm, and life would settle into a smooth routine…I told myself.

It wasn’t long before I realized that my baby was not going to settle down into a smooth routine. 

He knew when he wasn’t in my arms, and because of that, every time I had to go shower or take care of something other than him, he would scream. Now I am going to tell you this next part and I need you to fully understand what I am saying…..

He always screamed when he wasnt in my arms. 

Not sometimes. Not for a little bit then settle down. He would scream and demand to be with me since the minute he was born. He did not even like sleeping because he was away from me in his dreams, so he slept very little. He took several catnaps for the first few months, five minutes here and there, an hour here and there throughout the night. It was hard….

He would literally ALWAYS scream when not in my arms. That means when I had to go to the bathroom, he screamed the entire time. When I had to shower, he would scream. When I had to go eat, he would scream. There was never a moment when he would sit quietly or nicely that last longer than 10 seconds (before he realized he wasn’t in my arms). This is something most mothers DO NOT go through. This is rare. This is beyond a typical situation. There was not a doctor who looked like they fully comprehended what I was telling them, what I was living through. They along with numerous friends and family members, laughed it off and proceeded to tell me this was typical. 

Uh, no. This isn’t my first kid. This ISN’T typical. Flippantly dismissing this situation I was telling these people I was in was almost cruel and abusive (especially coming from a doctor). I will tell you now, if I was a woman with mental issues, I would not have been able to get through this. When you hear about mother’s hurting their children and/or themselves,, THIS is what I believe they were living through, while people laughed at them as well. There needs to be recognition and training around this rare situation where a baby is not just colicky, but EXTREMELY clingy and colicky. Combining that with a postpartum mom makes it even worse.

Weeks turned into months and before I knew it, he was approaching the age of two and had barely changed his need for me.

As the Covid Era began to neutralize, I had to return to the office. My husband is already retired, so he gets to be the Stay at Home for our children.

Every time I would come home after work, Oliver would run to me crying, then fuss in my arms like he was cursing me out in baby talk, while he then proceeded to command me on where to take him around the house. He fussed his way towards the light switches and began to enjoy turning them off and on. My bad arm began to get sore so I would go to set him down. While I attempted that, he would scream and cling to me.

What was worse is my husband would brag about how well behaved he is during the day with him. Wasn’t fussy, wasn’t demanding. He played nicely by himself. Eat perfectly in his high chair. Was a typical toddler for my husband……but I knew a different Oliver.

Since birth, I had to bring him in the shower with me (just so I could shower at all). Our evening routine was a consistent one. I would come home and do NOTHING but be with him. I devoted myself to him the minute I walked in the home from work until I laid him in bed for the night.

Every single advice I was given failed.

Every single tip or trick heard or read failed.

He was an entirely different kid for me. I never got to enjoy those quiet chill moments with him discovering something amazing for the first time. If I wasn’t there, equally actively playing with me WHILE holding him, he would fuss and cry.

As his 2 year birthday approached, I began to become seriously depressed. Almost two years and nothing had changed or gotten better (except the break I got when going to work).

He drained me.

He still got up several times at night, more so when he wasn’t feeling good. Why? Because he needed reassurance that I was there for him. I would hug him or pat his head and he would settle back to sleep. Two hours later, repeat.

Sleep Methods? Tried them all. Cry it out was the only one Ive not been able to successfully do because I have two other kids needing their sleep. Husband tries to help but Oliver doesn’t want him…. So he cries harder, louder.

It’s me. He needs me.

Something was off.

Chock it up to him being unique and clingy, more so than the average? Sure. Yeah. I did. But why? Why was he this way? Why was he different with me and not anyone else? How long was this going to last? Where is the support mother’s in my rare situation needs? How do you even begin to explain this odd relationship to people? I get two sentences in and they already determined that I haven’t done one of the recommended tips OR that I’m not accepting the fact that babies are clingy.

No. No. NOT like this. Nothing like this.

I finally stopped ignoring that idea of checking Oliver’s chart. I finally decided to dig out his birthday certificate to remember what time he was born, and pull the map of the cosmos at the time of his birth…..What was God up to then? What in the world is His plan for Olivers life? Why does he act like this with me only? What is our unique connection?

I dug out the birth certificate to confirm the birth details to ensure an accurate look into the cosmos. I knew better than to go to horoscope.com or some popular first page ad on a Google search. I was taking this serious.

I went to Cafeastrology.com, which was one of the rare free sites where you can pull a minor’s natal chart. I didn’t want some chick magazine type “astrology reading” for my son. I wanted a legit, real natal chart for me to study and dive into for answers because I knew the cosmos wasn’t a joke. It was created and continues to be controlled by God. I respect and honor that power.

There he is. There was the cosmos at the exact time Oliver James Kaufmann took his first breath.

When you read a child’s natal chart, because of their age and “freshness”, there are certain houses you pay more attention to than others. It is so much more than “personality traits” or temperaments. It is a guide….if you know how to read the stars.

I was allowing myself to be guided deeper, with an open mind and desire to learn, be humbled, and expand God from outside of a bounded Book. I could never insult Him like that. I took the art of looking into His vast creation very serious. I believe in destiny. You have to if you believe in astrology (or God). Therefore, every single birth of a child is destined to happen.

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