When Ruby came home from hospital, I knew there’d be sleepless nights, nappies, and foggy mornings. What I didn’t expect was reflux to take over everything.
Ruby was born at 30 weeks — tiny, strong, and still developing in every way. We later learned that reflux is incredibly common in premature babies, because their digestive systems aren’t fully mature yet.
I’m not a doctor — just a mum who’s lived it. But I’ve done a lot of reading, spoken to health professionals, and leaned on medical research to really understand this. If you’re in the same boat, I hope our story helps you feel a little less alone and a little more informed.
This is what baby reflux really looked like for us — messy, relentless, invisible to most people, and all-consuming for me.
Why Premature Babies Are More Likely to Have Reflux
Because Ruby was born at 30 weeks, her body was still learning how to function outside the womb. One of the last systems to fully mature is digestion — and that made her more prone to reflux from the very start.
Here’s what I found out through hospital discussions and medical journals:
Underdeveloped Digestive System
- Premature babies often have a weaker lower oesophageal sphincter (LES) — the valve between the stomach and oesophagus — which makes it easier for milk to come back up
- Their digestive systems are still developing, which means digestion is slower and reflux is more frequent .
- They can struggle with coordinating sucking, swallowing, and breathing, making each feed potentially triggering reflux
Reflux Is Very Common in Premmies
- Research shows reflux is nearly universal in infants born before 32 weeks gestation.
- Among NICU babies, around 10% are diagnosed with GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease), and some have dramatic symptoms like breathing issues or poor weight gain.
- Premature babies often take longer than full-term babies to grow out of reflux — sometimes into their first year.
Medication Isn’t Always the Answer
- Babies are often prescribed reflux medication early — Ruby was given some in the NICU — but many studies show no improvement in symptoms.
- Acid-suppressant drugs may even raise risks like infections and digestive problems (including necrotizing enterocolitis, or NEC.)
- Major paediatric guidelines recommend avoiding routine use of these medications and focusing instead on non-medical approaches.
Because Ruby’s reflux wasn’t helped by meds in hospital, we chose not to continue — even though it challenged all my instinct as a worried mum. But the research backed me up: sometimes, comfort and patience are stronger medicine.
We Knew Early — But Nothing Helped
They diagnosed Ruby’s reflux while she was still in the NICU. She started on medication right there in the hospital. But even as I gave her those tiny syringes of liquid, I had a feeling it wasn’t helping. And once we were home, that feeling became clearer.
Still, we tried everything.
- Reflux medication: She took it for weeks. It didn’t stop the vomiting.
- Reflux formula: It thickened her feeds but didn’t reduce the mess.
- Goat’s milk: We saw a few days of improvement and I let myself hope — but then the vomiting came back, just as bad.
The Daily Reality
Reflux dominated our days in quiet, exhausting ways. Ruby would drink her bottle peacefully, snuggle into me… and minutes later, silently, it would all come back up.
It didn’t seem to bother her. She wasn’t in pain, and she didn’t cry. But watching her bring up milk feed after feed wore me down. I’d mop us both up, change her clothes, change mine, wipe the bed, grab a tea towel, start the washing machine — again.
It was relentless.
Every feed came with a mental checklist:
- Don’t move her too much
- Hold her upright
- Keep a towel nearby
- Expect to need another outfit
- Have backup everything packed just in case
Pro tip for reflux mums: thick, absorbent tea towels are lifesavers. Better than burp cloths. Better than bibs. I used them for feeds, cleanup, and protecting everything from the couch to my shoulder. I had a huge stack on rotation — and trust me, they earned their place in our daily survival kit.
The Anxiety of Going Out
What people don’t talk about is how reflux affects your ability to just… leave the house.
I had huge anxiety about going anywhere with Ruby. I knew we were only ever one movement away from a surprise vomit — and the unpredictability of it made every outing feel risky.
Here are three moments that stayed with me:
1. The Paediatrician Appointment
Ruby was around six months old. We had an appointment and the timing lined up with her bottle, so I fed her in the carpark. I couldn’t get the pram unfolded (why are they always so confusing?), so I popped her in the carrier and carefully walked into the hospital, trying not to jostle her stomach.
I sat down to dig through her baby bag for the appointment letter — I had no idea what floor I was even supposed to be on — when I looked down and realised she had vomited, and not just a little bit. I scrambled to clean her up, wiped at my shirt the best I could, but the damp patches and sour smell clung. There was no hiding it: we were the reflux family, and we wore the proof.
By the time we made it into the waiting room, she vomited on me again. I cleaned us up as best I could and went into the appointment anyway. Once inside, the doctor rolled her gently around and pressed on her belly. She vomited again. Then again.
The doctor barely blinked. He said it wasn’t a big deal — the vomits were small and she didn’t seem distressed. But I left feeling deflated, like no one really saw how relentless and exhausting this all was.
2. The Playgroup That Wasn’t
One morning, I had big plans. Ruby and I were actually going to make it to playgroup — a small victory that felt like climbing Everest. I wrestled her into a cute outfit, put on something vaguely presentable myself, and even managed to wrangle the nappy bag with all the essentials (or at least, what I hoped were the essentials). We were ready.
I shut the front door behind us and exhaled that little sigh of accomplishment every mum knows: we did it. We’re dressed, we’re packed, we’re leaving the house. That’s when it happened. Ruby vomited.
“Okay,” I told myself, “not the end of the world. I’ll clean her up in the car.”
I got her strapped into the car seat, pulled out the wipes, started damage control — and then, yep, she vomited again. At that point, I was seriously questioning whether the playgroup gods were trying to send me a sign.
Still, I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. I unbuckled her, carried her back inside, changed her clothes, gave her a cuddle to settle us both, and thought, We can still do this. And then — you guessed it — she vomited again.
I stood there, staring at the clock, looking at her now-fresh-for-the-third-time outfit, and realised the obvious: today was not the day. Playgroup wasn’t happening. Not when it felt like Ruby’s main activity was a personal best in projectile performance.
So instead, we stayed home. She went through more outfits. I went through more wipes. And playgroup? Well, playgroup went on without us. But hey — at least we got dressed. Sometimes, that’s the win.
3. The Café Lunch
I met a friend for lunch — one of those little outings that felt like a win in itself. We ordered food, settled in, and for a moment it felt like maybe we were doing something normal.
She held Ruby on her lap, giving her a big snuggle while we chatted. Ruby sat there happily, all bright eyes and calm little wiggles. I let myself exhale, thinking, Okay, this is good. This feels easy for once.
And then, just as suddenly, it wasn’t. Ruby vomited. Not a tiny dribble down her chin — a proper reflux spray. All over herself. All over the floor of the café.
I panicked into action, grabbing wipes and muslins, trying to clean Ruby, myself, the floor — anywhere the mess had landed. I kept apologising, even though it wasn’t my fault and certainly not Ruby’s. It just felt automatic, like I had to somehow make up for the chaos.
My friend was kind about it, brushing it off, but inside I felt so deflated. I’d been chasing a moment that felt “normal,” and instead I got another reminder of how unpredictable life with reflux really was. Even a simple café lunch turned into a scene, and I went home carrying that ache — not from the mess itself, but from how hard it was to ever just blend in.
What No One Tells You
No one tells you how quiet reflux can be — how it can look like a settled baby and still be completely disruptive.
No one tells you how it chips away at your confidence. How you start second-guessing every feed, every nap, every outing.
No one tells you how repetitive it is — the vomit, the clean-up, the laundry, the rewashing of the same five onesies.
And no one tells you that you can feel deep love and deep exhaustion at the exact same time — while holding a baby who smells like sour milk and still manages to melt your heart.
It Took Months — But It Passed
There wasn’t a single day when Ruby’s reflux suddenly “ended.” No neat finish line, no miracle cure, no doctor’s appointment where we were told, “She’s better now.” It was just a slow, frustrating process that unfolded on its own timeline.
Even when she started solids, I had hoped things would change overnight — that thicker foods would finally stay down. But reflux doesn’t work like that. She still struggled. There were still days when I had to change her outfit three times before lunch, or keep a towel draped permanently over my shoulder. It wasn’t a switch that flipped; it was a slow dimming of something we’d lived with for so long.
First, the vomits came a little less often. Instead of five in a day, maybe there were three. Then, slowly, the feeds started staying down more often than not. The endless piles of tea towels, bibs, and clothes finally started lasting a little longer between washes.
Then came the real breakthrough moments — a whole day without a single vomit. Then another. Soon, we’d go an entire week. And before I even realised it, those weeks had stretched into months.
Now, reflux is just a memory. Ruby hasn’t had an issue in months, and sometimes I still catch myself bracing for it, expecting the mess that never comes. It’s strange to live without the constant soundtrack of wiping, mopping, and apologising. Strange, but wonderful. For the first time, I can hold her close without that quiet worry in the back of my mind. For the first time, I can really breathe.
If You’re In It Right Now…
I see you.
You’re doing more than most people realise. You’re feeding, wiping, holding, soaking, soothing, changing, cleaning, and starting over — again and again.
You might feel like no one gets it, like it’s not “serious enough” to talk about, or like you should just deal with it.
But reflux is real. It’s hard. And you’re not imagining it.
If the medication isn’t helping, you’re allowed to say so. If your baby’s happy but spewy, you’re still allowed to be tired. And if it feels like this season will never end — just know, it will.
Until then, keep the tea towels close and your heart open.
You’ve got this.
Five reputable sources providing medical information on gastroesophageal reflux (GER) and gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) in infants:
- Royal Children’s Hospital Melbourne – Clinical Practice Guidelines: Gastro-oesophageal Reflux Disease in Infants This guideline offers detailed information on the diagnosis, management, and treatment options for GERD in infants. 🔗 www.rch.org.au
- Raising Children Network – Gastro-oesophageal Reflux & GORD (0–2 years) This resource provides an overview of reflux in babies, differentiating between normal reflux and GERD, and offers practical advice for parents.
🔗 https://raisingchildren.net.au/
- Children’s Health Queensland – Reflux This page discusses reflux in infants, including symptoms, when to seek medical advice, and potential complications. 🔗 www.childrens.health.qld.gov.au
- Pregnancy, Birth and Baby – Spitting Up in Babies This article explains why babies spit up, how to differentiate between normal spitting up and GERD, and when to consult a healthcare professional.
🔗 https://www.pregnancybirthbaby.org.au/
- National Center for Biotechnology Information (NCBI) – Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease in Neonates and Infants: When and How to Treat This peer-reviewed article discusses the pathophysiology, diagnosis, and treatment options for GERD in neonates and infants. 🔗 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/
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