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The Path to Cure: The Whole Art of Healing
by Allyson A. McQuinn
Price $20.00>> 
 Colic
and Constipation
I finally brought Jordan home on a glorious August morning, three
arduous weeks after he’d been born. I couldn’t believe
that he was all mine and I didn’t have to share him with a
whole team of nurses. I started to heal much more quickly and he
began to nurse enough to bring my milk in. He was gaining an average
of a pound and a half a week. We scheduled his Brit Milah four weeks
after he arrived home. This is the ritual circumcision which is
representative of the first covenant observed by Jews. Although
I was not born Jewish, I had studied for three years and converted
to Judaism just prior to marrying my husband. I had also agreed
to raise our children in the Jewish faith.
Within two weeks, while Jordan continued to grow, something new
emerged. Colic! Jordan’s case was particularly severe, he
cried constantly, day and night. He fed every hour and a half to
two hours and we walked the floor until the carpet was worn. My
husband would often go to work and leave both Jordan and I sobbing
in the rocking chair. Nurses from the post-natal class came to my
home to see how I was making out as I had spent the classes pacing
the hall outside as Jordan wailed non-stop, raging against an unseen
enemy.
I resorted to gripe water and ignored the alcohol content. We walked
around the neighborhood for hours with him in a stroller. He was
so overwhelmed by the “outside” that he would close
his eyes the moment I passed over the threshold and he could see
open sky. I showed this trick to my husband as I gently swung Jordan
over the threshold of the doorframe. His eyes would open, close,
open, close, cry, hush, cry, hush. It was pathetically amusing.
We nick named him “Le Miserable”, as it seemed he just
didn’t want to be here with us under any terms.
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