Sleep Deprivation and Mental Health

Coping Strategies for New Moms

Let's discuss, too, the thing that makes new motherhood feel like a never-ending mental marathon: sleep deprivation. It's the unglamorous, under-discussed, soul-crushing side of early motherhood that hits even harder than any diaper blowout or cluster feed. When you're getting up every 90 minutes for days — or weeks — on end, sleep is more than a luxury. It becomes a survival need. And doing anything without it feels harder. Small tasks, such as brewing coffee, phrasing a sentence or recalling where you set down your phone (hint: it's in the icebox), could pass for Olympic-level competitions.

What makes it worse? The one-pointedness with which the world keeps spinning. Partners go back to work. Bills still show up. Laundry multiplies like rabbits. And in the midst of all that, you're supposed to be "soaking up every moment" of this newborn happiness. But when you haven't slept for longer than two hours in weeks, not even the most magical baby snuggle can erase the fog that clouds your brain, the edge of perpetual irritability that sets in, the creep of anxiety as you feel perpetually run down.

So if you are reading this with one eye closed, around half your coffee gone cold, wondering if it's just you and your mother-state slowly losing your mind — it's not. You're just tired. Really, truly, dangerously tired.

What Sleep Deprivation Takes Mentally (AKA, You're Not Just "Tired")

Losing sleep doesn't just make you yawn. It hijacks everything you know about your emotional, physical, and cognitive steadiness in ways that can be straight-up scary. Studies have shown that missing just a few hours of sleep each night can have a negative impact on your brain akin to drinking alcohol. Try parenting a newborn while slightly drunk, and doing it every day for weeks. That's what we're up against here.

It's not just about fatigue. Sleep deprivation messes with your:

• Mood: You might become very angry, irrational or hopeless at the drop of a hat.
• Memory: You forget what you walked into a room for, or if you took your prenatals this morning (or was it yesterday?).
• Mental health: Anxiety and depression are much more likely to be triggered by long-term sleep disruption — and especially during the delicate postpartum period.
• Decision-making: Exhaustion clouds your judgment. Suddenly you're doubting every bottle size, onesie pick and nap schedule as if it's a matter of life and death.
• Sense of self: Without respite, it's all too tempting to become subsumed in the role of caretaker, to lose the "you" you once were.

If any of that rings a bell, I want you to remember one thing: You are not weak, you are not dramatic, you are not failing. You are in sleep debt. And it's time for us to pay some of that back.

Let's Talk Hacks—Why "Sleep When the Baby Sleeps" Is Garbage Advice

"Sleep when the baby sleeps" sounds nice in theory. In reality? It's laughable. The average new mother's brain is trying to fit in feedings, pumpings, laundry, work email, toddler temper tantrums and like 47 other tabs. Where exactly am I supposed to nap — between cleaning the pump parts and remembering to eat?

That's why we could all use some practical, tactical ways to rest up and keep your sanity intact — even when long stretches of time under the covers aren't in the cards.

1. Lower the bar. Then lower it again.

This is not the year of the perfect champion. If you're crying and folding laundry, stop folding. If 80 percent of your meals are bites of pizza and string cheese, it's a win. Lower your bar for yourself to your energy, not the Pinterest visions of motherhood.

2. Shift your sleep mindset.

Strive for sleep-volume units rather than a perfect eight hours one miraculous night (although that's impossible) or as many hours as you lost getting the baby (which is even more impossible). A 20-minute snooze with the baby contact napping on your chest? That's rest. A 3-hour stretch of sleep at night from a partner? That's gold. Every small window matters.

3. The "Night Shift Plan" strategy

If you have a partner or friend you can lean on, slot the night like work. Alternate shifts. One person does 8 p.m.–1 a.m., the other does 1 a.m.–6 a.m. Even if one of you works during the day, take turns with weekend nights. Don't martyr yourself.

4. Combine your efforts with a "Sleep Swap" with a trusted someone

Trust a friend, your mom or a neighbor? Trade favors. They'll take the baby from 10–12 once a week while you take a nap. You in turn take freezer meals. It's village parenting for the modern day.

5. Set boundaries with tech

If you are doom-scrolling at 1:30 a.m., knock it off. Blue light disrupts your brain's ability to relax. Keep your phone off the bed, establish a "no screens" rule after 9 p.m., and if you are someone who needs something to fall asleep to, choose an audiobook or a podcast instead.

When It's More Than Just Tired: Red Flags to Look Out For

My Mental Load Moment: The Day I Cried on a Chicken Nugget

Mine came at 11:07 a.m. on a Wednesday. I was attempting to balance my laptop on a nursing pillow, the baby was screaming, the dog had thrown up and I had just forgotten that I hadn't brushed my teeth in three days. The final straw? My toddler had just placed a cold chicken nugget in my hand and asked, "You sad, Mommy. You eat." And I did. I cried into that nugget as if I were taking communion.

That was my moment. My giant, stupid, pretty "I can't do this like this anymore" moment.

So I stopped pretending that I was O.K. I asked my husband for help. I called my therapist. I napped instead of mopped the floor. And, somehow, the world didn't end. But I was beginning to knit myself back together.

Quick Wins: 7 Ways To Feel 10% More Human Today

Final Word – This Is Not About Breaking Through — This Is About Saving You

There's this whispering myth that good moms sacrifice every last thing. Sleep. Sanity. Identity. But you can't pour, as they say, from a dry, sleep-deprived, emotionally frazzled cup.

You don't have to white-knuckle your way through this season.

You don't have to pretend to smile through it.

And you certainly don't have to do it alone.

Ask for support. Demand rest. Allow yourself to not be okay. Then gradually, bit by bit, you'll start to rediscover who you are between those naps and night feeds.

You're not failing. You're just freaking exhausted.

So take the nap. Eat the snack. Cry if you need to. You're still doin' amazing work.