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The True Reason Moms Find Themselves Awake Late at Night
“There never was a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him to sleep.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson
The day has finally drawn to a close. The dishes are washed, the little one is tucked in, and I’ve discarded my bra. As I sink into the couch, a cascade of “to-dos” floods my mind.
Soak the onesie stained with beet juice. Plan meals for the week. Write the grocery list. Document the past few months in the baby book. Order prints from our last three photo sessions. Unsubscribe from the avalanche of junk mail filling our recycling bin. Frame those prints. Declutter my closet. Start mapping out our summer vacation. Finish that book sitting on my nightstand. Complete this essay.
The buzz of “unnecessary but important” responsibilities swirls around me like busy bees, and I swat them away, reaching instead for my second glass of wine.
My body aches. My muscles protest. My hair falls out in alarming amounts. Nearly ten months postpartum, I often feel like a stranger in my own skin — because in many ways, I am.
Every day revolves around my son’s needs. I predict his cries, deciphering them from coos. When he stirs, I jump into action. As he begins to tire, I glide into our “sleepy routine,” employing every trick I know to ease him into slumber. Dressing him resembles wrestling a wild animal, changing diapers feels like a wrestling match with an alligator, and mealtime is akin to feeding a snapping turtle. At this stage, motherhood is a full-contact sport, draining my energy until I can only think of my next cup of tepid coffee.
In those early days when my son was a tiny bundle of joy, blissfully unaware of night and day, I relished the quietness of those 3 a.m. feedings. It was a rare moment of respite from the endless “should”s, a time when it was just me and my baby. Even during the most exhausting nights, when I felt like the only mother on earth grappling with such fatigue, I knew dawn would bring a new day — a fresh opportunity to try again, perhaps a little wiser.
However, as he transitioned from newborn to infant, the seasons changed, and winter descended upon us, bringing with it a heavy shroud of sleep deprivation. After months of interrupted nights, the charm of waking up repeatedly faded. I was utterly drained yet found myself staying up later and later, longing for that precious stillness I once enjoyed.
One night, while sprawled on the couch, scrolling through Instagram with the TV murmuring in the background and my glass of wine nearby, my partner asked, “Why don’t you just go to bed?” My answer was simple — all day I’ve been living for him. Now, when he finally sleeps, I reclaim a fragment of my own life. And often, I’m too worn out for anything beyond watching Real Housewives.
For more insights on parenting journeys and experiences, you can check out this post on our other blog here. If you’re interested in home insemination, consider visiting Make a Mom for expert resources on the subject. Additionally, the CDC offers excellent information about pregnancy and home insemination here.
Summary
This article explores the reasons why moms often find themselves awake late at night, reflecting on the exhaustion of motherhood and the fleeting moments of personal time amidst the demands of parenting. From the struggles of daily routines to the solace found in late-night TV, it provides a candid look at the complexities of motherhood.