I thought I had this parenting thing figured out.
My baby was finally sleeping for stretches longer than two hours. I could drink my coffee hot again. I felt like a human.
Then, like a cruel plot twist, sleep regressions hit.
No one warned me it would feel like starting over.
At 4 months, my baby was suddenly up every hour, screaming like she’d forgotten how to sleep. I’d rock her, shush her, feed her, only to lay her down and hear her wail again. By 3 a.m., I was crying harder than she was.
I was exhausted—not just “tired mom” exhausted, but bone-deep, can’t-think-straight, forgot-my-own-name exhausted.
I felt like I was failing.
Why couldn’t I fix this? Why was my baby broken? Why was I broken?
I googled “sleep regressions” at 4 a.m., bleary-eyed, and found clinical explanations: “It’s a developmental leap.” “It’s normal.” “It’ll pass.”
Normal? This felt like torture.
No one told me sleep regressions would make me question my sanity.
No one told me I’d resent my baby’s cries, then hate myself for it.
No one told me I’d feel so alone, pacing the dark nursery, wondering if I was the only mom losing it.
But here’s what I learned the hard way:
Sleep regressions aren’t just about your baby—they’re about you surviving them.
And you don’t have to do it perfectly. You just have to get through.
What Surviving Sleep Regressions Looked Like for Me
It wasn’t about “fixing” my baby or mastering some perfect sleep routine. It was about small, messy wins:
• Letting go of the schedule. I stopped obsessing over “nap times” and followed her cues instead. Some days, she napped in my arms. It wasn’t ideal, but it was rest.
• Tagging in my partner. I handed her over at 2 a.m. and slept for an hour, even if he didn’t do the soothing “my way.”
• Stealing moments for me. I’d put her in the crib (crying or not) and step outside for five minutes to breathe. It felt selfish, but it saved me.
• Talking it out. I texted a mom friend, “I’m losing it. Is this normal?” Her “Oh girl, SAME” was a lifeline.
The hardest part? Ignoring the noise.
My mother-in-law swore, “Just let her cry it out.” A neighbor said, “You’re spoiling her by rocking her.” Instagram moms posted their babies sleeping “12 hours straight” with #SleepTrainingSuccess.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I started saying, “This is what works for us right now.” It wasn’t sassy, but it was firm. I wasn’t failing—they just didn’t get it.
Surviving meant accepting that sleep regressions are a phase, not a personal attack. My baby wasn’t broken. She was growing. And I was growing, too—into a mom who could handle the hard nights.
If You’re in the Trenches, Here’s How to Keep Going
If you’re pacing the nursery, if you’re crying over a coffee you didn’t drink, if you feel like you’re failing—this is for you.
I’m writing from the rocking chair I sobbed in, from the nights I thought would never end.
Here are some free, real ways to survive sleep regressions:
• 2-Minute Reset: When you’re spiraling, close your eyes and breathe deeply for 10 seconds. Name one thing you’re grateful for (like “she’s healthy”). It grounds you.
• Script for Support: Text a friend or partner, “I’m struggling with her sleep. Can you [watch her for an hour/talk me through this]?” Be specific—it’s okay to need help.
• Gentle Affirmation: Whisper to yourself, “This is temporary. I’m enough.” It feels silly, but it’s a reminder you’re not failing.
• Shut Out Judgment: If someone criticizes your approach, say, “We’re figuring out what works for us.” You don’t owe them an explanation.
• Find Your People: Join a local parenting group or an online forum (like BabyCenter or Reddit’s parenting subs). Hearing “I’m in it too” makes the nights less lonely.
These aren’t magic fixes. They’re anchors to hold you steady when the nights feel endless.
You’re Not Alone in the Dark
Sleep regressions don’t mean you’re doing it wrong.
They mean your baby is growing, and you’re growing through one of the hardest parts of parenting.
You deserve support as much as they deserve sleep.
If you’re looking for a little extra help, I created a Sleep Survival Guide from my own sleepless nights. It’s got practical tips, soothing scripts, and gentle strategies to navigate regressions without losing yourself. It’s not about “training” your baby—it’s about holding you both through the chaos. Grab it if it feels right for you.
You’re not failing. You’re in the thick of it, and you’re still showing up.
That’s more than enough.
[Get the Sleep Survival Guide] ⬅️ Tap