When Sleep Deprivation Makes You Angry at Your Baby
I’m sitting here at my computer this morning trying to figure out what to write.
I want to write about nights with my baby because that’s what’s feeling heaviest right now.
But honestly, my brain is a little mushy after my third night in a row of very broken sleep, and putting words together is hard.
Talking about the feelings and thoughts I sometimes have as a sleep-deprived mother also feels like a touchy subject. I worry about choosing the wrong words.
But for all those sleep-deprived mamas out there, I’m going to try.
Maybe you’ll read this and know you’re not alone.
My baby is not sleeping.
Up until recently, he’s actually been a pretty good sleeper.
In bed around 7 p.m., wakes for a feed around 1 a.m., then back to sleep reliably until around 5 a.m.
That’s pretty good for a three-month-old baby.
But these last few days?
Forget it.
He’s awake at least every 45 minutes, absolutely refuses to go back into his bassinet, and basically wants my boob in his mouth at all times.
Not exactly a great recipe for Mom getting any sleep.
And this is where I want to choose my words carefully.
Because the truth is that during those agonizingly long nighttime hours, I sometimes find myself angry at my baby.
And let me be clear.
This is a feeling, not an action.
I get frustrated when the things that always got him to settle don’t work anymore.
When he finally lets me drift off only to wake me 30 minutes later, I feel angry.
Because I’m tired. I’m worn out. And the night feels so long and lonely.
It’s amazing to me every time how a little person I love so desperately can also make me feel so incredibly frustrated.
But that’s exhaustion talking.
So when I feel that anger creeping in, this is what I do.
I leave.
Yes, you heard that right.
I put the baby safely in his bassinet, turn on the baby monitor, and leave the room.
I come downstairs, sit on the couch, take a few deep breaths, and let him cry for a few minutes.
Sometimes, okay… often, I cry a little too.
But I step away.
More often than not, that little break resets me. Then I go back upstairs, scoop up my baby, feed him, cuddle him, and we get through another night together.
If this is you, I see you.
I know what it’s like to feel so completely beyond exhausted that emotions you never expected start bubbling to the surface.
It doesn’t make you a bad mom.
It makes you a tired one.
They need you so much.
All the time.
You are literally their entire world.
And that can feel heavy sometimes.
Especially at night when you are so, so tired.
So if you’re reading this because you’ve found yourself feeling angry at your baby, here’s what I want you to do.
First, ask for help if you can.
My partner will quite happily take the baby if I’m really struggling so I can get some rest.
He often sleeps through the worst of it, but if I wake him, he’s there.
I couldn’t do this without him.
Second, if asking for help isn’t an option, or even if it is, step away.
Put the baby somewhere safe, let them cry for a few minutes, and leave the room.
Take a few deep breaths.
Take more than a few minutes if that’s what you need.
As long as your baby is safe, crying for a little while will not hurt them.
If you need a break, take one.
It will be better for both of you.
And third, something that has really helped me recently is a simple little mantra:
“They’re not giving you a hard time. They’re having a hard time.”
That’s what I tell myself whenever I start to struggle.
My baby isn’t waking every 45 minutes to spite me.
He’s not manipulating me.
He’s not “being difficult.”
He’s just a baby who, for whatever reason, needs his mama a little more right now.
And honestly?
That’s incredibly special.
The thought of him crying because he needs me and me not being there to hold him?
Now that makes me cry.
So if this is you, I’m with you.
Maybe you’re reading this at 3 a.m., scrolling while your baby sleeps on your chest because the bassinet has become completely unacceptable.
Maybe you’re wondering how you’ll make it through another day.
You will.
One night at a time.
One feed at a time.
One deep breath at a time.
We’re all just doing our best with these little humans.
And even on the hardest nights, none of us are doing it alone.
You’re Not Alone
If this post resonated with you, I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
What has been the hardest part of the newborn stage for you?
Maybe it’s the sleepless nights. Maybe it’s the endless feeding. Maybe it’s the loneliness that can creep in during those quiet hours when the rest of the world is asleep.
Whatever you’re carrying right now, I hope you know you don’t have to carry it alone.
If you’re enjoying these honest, unfiltered reflections on motherhood, I’d love for you to join my email list. I share new blog posts, practical parenting tips, book recommendations, and the occasional reminder that none of us have this parenting thing completely figured out.
And if you know another mama who could use a little encouragement today, consider sharing this post with her.
Sometimes the words we need most are simply: “Me too.”
Keep Reading
If this post spoke to you, you might also enjoy a few of my other honest reflections on motherhood:
- The Postpartum Hierarchy of Needs – A reminder that sometimes surviving the day is more than enough during those early weeks with a new baby.
- The Birth That Healed Me – The story of the birth experience that helped rewrite my relationship with childbirth.
- Complicated Feelings About Combination Feeding – An honest look at navigating breastfeeding, formula, and the emotions that come with both.
- Things I Wish I Knew with My First Baby – Lessons I’ve learned after welcoming four babies that I wish someone had told me the first time around.
- How It’s Going Now: Life Seven Weeks Postpartum – A candid update on the realities, challenges, and little victories of adjusting to life with a newborn.
Motherhood has a way of making us feel like we’re the only ones struggling, but we’re not. If sharing my experiences helps even one mom feel a little less alone, then every one of these stories has been worth writing.
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