I don’t suffer from chronic insomnia like some people do, but I grapple with sleep maintenance insomnia. I can’t seem to stay asleep for more than a few hours at a time. At 34, I can’t recall ever having a full night’s sleep.
Before welcoming my three kids into the world, I spent countless hours wandering through a dark house, engrossed in reading or watching TV while waiting for sleep to come. Nowadays, I manage about three to four hours of sleep each night, which doesn’t seem so bad occasionally, but when it stretches into years, the fatigue can become overwhelming.
Being an insomniac parent is like two gears that just won’t mesh. I wake up for no apparent reason, and as soon as I drift off again, my kids are awake, either asking for water or seeking comfort after a nightmare. It’s a constant battle between being half-awake and half-asleep, living in a haze of exhaustion and unfocused thoughts. Sleep is always on my mind, but it feels like a distant dream—an elusive goal that I chase, knowing it’s often just out of reach.
When my first child, Leo, was born, he would only sleep in short two-hour increments, requiring someone to rock him in their arms like a little football. My wife and I divided the night shifts, but even during my designated hours, I found myself staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Back then, I was in college, often dozing off in classes or on buses, waking in strange places.
The most challenging part of being a sleep-deprived parent isn’t just my own lack of rest; it often means my kids aren’t sleeping well either. I come from a family with a history of insomnia and narcolepsy, and while the likelihood of passing this on to all three children is slim, it’s hard not to wonder if my genes are playing a role.
Caffeine has become my lifeline, a necessity to get through the day, even though I hear it might exacerbate my sleep issues. I often find myself blaming my kids for my tired appearance, as it feels more relatable than admitting I struggle with insomnia. However, this can lead to unwarranted judgment from others who might think my children’s sleep troubles are a reflection of my parenting—an idea I vehemently reject.
As I type these words, my mind drifts to my daughter, Mia, who just last night needed me for two hours, twisting and turning, trying to find her way to sleep. I was there for her, and in those moments, I understood her struggles all too well. Despite the weariness, I want her to know she isn’t alone in this battle against sleeplessness. Insomnia can often feel isolating, a lonely journey where the night becomes an endless cycle of waiting for rest.
Yet, looking back, I realize my children have given my sleepless nights a sense of purpose. There were times when I was juggling college and bartending, rarely seeing my kids. Those late-night wake-ups were my only opportunity to connect with them, to solve their little problems, and to hear them whisper “I love you, Daddy.” While I may grumble about my exhaustion, I fondly remember how Leo used to clutch my arm for comfort after a nightmare and how comforting Mia felt when she curled up beside me during those dark hours.
In those moments, I feel needed and valued. The night often presents my only chance to be more than just a provider; it allows me to offer my children love and support in their time of need.
So to all the parents out there who find themselves awake while the rest of the world sleeps, I tip my hat to you. Sacrificing precious sleep for the sake of your children is the ultimate act of devotion. Sleep may be hard to come by, but when your little one needs you, that commitment is what makes you the real MVP.
For those interested in expanding their family, consider checking out resources like Cleveland Clinic’s guide on intrauterine insemination or exploring at-home options like makeamom.com’s artificial insemination kits and intracervical insemination techniques.