Our story

I didn’t lose my son because I didn’t love him.
I lost him because I hadn’t slept.

When Noah was born, I thought love would carry me through anything. But Noah didn’t sleep. He woke every night, every hour, sometimes even more. At first, my husband slept in another room. He said it was just for a few nights, so he could survive work. But those few nights became weeks, then months, and little by little, I became the only one awake in a house full of people.

I fed Noah, rocked him, walked the hallway with him in my arms, and cried so quietly that nobody could hear me. I was still his mother, still holding him, still loving him with everything I had, but inside, I was disappearing. My marriage fell apart. My work suffered. I forgot things. I lost words. I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise the woman staring back at me.

Then one morning, after another night without sleep, I left a pan on the hob. Noah was safe. Nothing happened to him. But during our separation, that one mistake became evidence against me. Not the hundreds of nights I had held him. Not the love. Not the exhaustion. Just the mistake.

The court decided Noah would live with his father for the time being. I could only see my own son for a few hours a week, supervised. That evening, I came home alone. His cot was still there. His pyjamas were still on the chair. His blanket still smelled like him. Everything was there, except him.

For the first time in months, the house was silent enough for me to sleep. But without my child, sleep healed nothing. It only made the silence louder.

So I did the only thing I had left to do. I tried to understand what had happened to me. I studied baby sleep, adult sleep, parental exhaustion, attachment, and the nights that quietly break families. And slowly, I understood that I wasn’t a bad mother. I was an exhausted mother with no support, no sleep, and no way out.

So I rebuilt myself, one routine at a time, one visit at a time, one night at a time. I learnt how to stay calm. I learnt how to help Noah feel safe. I learnt how to bring peace back into the night.

Eventually, Noah came back to sleep at my home. Then he came back to live with me. And years later, I became a sleep coach, not to simply teach babies to sleep, but to stop other parents from getting lost in the night like I did.

Because sometimes, helping a baby sleep doesn’t just save the night. It saves the mother. It saves the child. It saves the family.