A reminder to show grace to struggling parents.

Yesterday, I made a post about letting my 9-week-old baby "cry it out," and the response was overwhelming. I quickly learned that if you don’t include every single minute detail, people will assume the worst, twist your words, and create their own narratives. I ended up deleting the post because instead of receiving advice, I found myself having to prove I’m not a neglectful or cruel mother to people who only focused on parts of my post and ran with them.

I also now realize I used the term "cry it out" incorrectly. What actually happened was that after an hour and a half of my husband trying to soothe our baby—while our son purple-cried the entire time—I finally put him in his bassinet, where he continued to cry for 30 minutes while I was right there soothing him. He was fed twice and diaper changed 3 times. But people ignored that context and immediately decided I let him scream for hours unattended. Even when I clarified this, many doubled down, insisting I was cruel. So when I correct the false assumptions, I’m still wrong?

Since I apparently need to include every single minute detail, let me tell you just how "neglectful" I really am. I didn’t stop to explain that my baby and I nearly died from sepsis in the hospital, and since then, I’ve hardly put him down. I didn’t outline every detail of his silent reflux, which led to co-sleeping out of necessity. I didn’t share that my husband, who adores our son, breaks down because he struggles to soothe him. And I didn’t mention that the night before, I woke up to my baby face down next to me in bed—a moment that shook me to my core and made me decide no more bed-sharing. But apparently, if you don’t include every single piece of context, people assume the worst.

And let’s talk about that, because I did mention in my original post that my bed is too soft for safe bed-sharing. Yet people chose not to acknowledge that. Instead, they ignored the fact that I was prioritizing my baby's safety and just latched onto the fact that I let him cry.

When you’ve already come close to losing your child once, you reach a point where survival is the priority. My number one concern is making sure my baby wakes up each morning. If that makes me neglectful in some people’s eyes, so be it.

A false narrative quickly spread that I let my baby cry for two hours without comfort. That didn’t happen. Yes, I wrote the post in exhaustion and distress, and maybe I didn’t phrase things perfectly. But when I corrected the record, it didn’t matter—people weren’t listening.

Another false assumption was that my husband doesn’t help. In reality, he does everything he can to bond with our son, even though our baby struggles to settle with him. My husband takes care of him for hours each day so I can sleep, despite knowing our baby will cry the entire time. He wants to be there for our son, even when it’s hard. That’s not neglect—it’s dedication. Yet when I corrected people assumptions about my “lazy lowlife husband,” they doubled down and said he wasn’t doing enough. Some people suggested we just do "baby shifts," but what no one wanted to acknowledge is that baby shifts don’t work if the baby is screaming the entire time and not getting the sleep he needs. That’s why my husband now stays up every single time I wake up to feed our son—so he can support me and help however he can. But again, no one wanted to listen to that part. They only wanted to focus on the fact that I let my baby cry.

I’m also in school, finishing my master’s degree, and I fought to stay home with my son because he couldn’t handle being away from me. My husband actually begged me not to change my schedule—he wanted to learn how to soothe our baby, even if it meant enduring hours of crying. That’s how committed he is.

Some people acted like I never pick up my child, which couldn’t be further from the truth. I wear him all day, standing from morning until night because he doesn’t like when I sit. Baby-wearing has given me severe back pain, and because my son refuses to be put down or let me sit, it also means I can’t nap. So what exactly do you suggest in that situation? As a neglectful mother, I’ve chosen to push through the pain and exhaustion someday’s to keep my son from crying, but the moment I let him cry for 30 minutes while actively soothing him, I’m suddenly a monster? Make it make sense.

And then there were the comments telling me to "figure it out" because "there’s always a reason a baby cries." As if I didn’t put in the original post that he has severe silent reflux. As if I hadn’t spent weeks fighting for my son, switching pediatricians until someone finally took his reflux seriously. As if I hadn’t changed formulas, stopped breastfeeding, and done everything possible to ease his discomfort. If advocating for my son and making difficult decisions makes me a neglectful mother, then what does that say about the impossible standards placed on parents?

I also saw people claim that parents’ emotions don’t matter in these situations. That’s dangerous thinking. There’s a reason hospitals require parents to sign forms acknowledging the risks of shaken baby syndrome. Telling exhausted, overwhelmed parents that their feelings are irrelevant doesn’t help anyone—it only isolates them further.

And for those insisting that I should have done more to make bed-sharing safer? That’s not the solution for us. My husband and I made the decision that it’s no longer an option. People were quick to share links about the risks of letting a baby cry but ignored the well-documented dangers of bed-sharing. Babies don’t die from crying, but they do die from unsafe sleep situations. My bed is soft. That is NOT safe. I understand why some parents choose to bed-share—I did it myself for nine weeks. But after nearly experiencing a tragedy, I’m choosing a different path.

I want to thank those who offered real advice—suggesting a firmer mattress, a co-sleeper, and even considering whether my husband’s deodorant might be bothering our baby. The moment I brought these up, my husband ran online to get them. These will be used unless the bassinet is a dead cause.

I’m sharing this because I’ve seen too many desperate parents post in this subreddit, only to be torn down when they’re already at their lowest. I thought this was a place for support, advice, and solidarity. Instead, it’s filled with people who seem more interested in proving their superiority as parents.

Every parent is a first-time parent once. We’re all learning. Give people grace. Parenting is the hardest thing most of us will ever do, and telling struggling parents to "suck it up" because you did only adds to the weight they’re already carrying.