Coloring Outside the Lines with Mia

The Thing No One Warned Me About: Sleep

Before Mia, I had two children.

Bedtime wasn't always perfect, but it was predictable.

You read a story.
You tucked them in.
You kissed them goodnight.

With autism, I quickly learned that "just put her to bed" wasn't always possible.

People would say, "Just keep her on a schedule."

As if I hadn't already tried.

As if years of parenting hadn't taught me what a bedtime routine was.

What many people didn't understand was that I wasn't failing because I didn't know how to parent.

I was trying to parent a child whose brain experienced sleep differently.

There were nights I slept three hours.

Sometimes less.

I was terrified I would oversleep and miss taking my older children to school or forget to pick them up. I remember driving while completely exhausted, praying I could stay alert. I didn't have someone to take over so I could catch up on sleep. There was no tag team. There wasn't another shift coming in.

I was drowning.

I was trying to figure out something I had never experienced before, completely on my own.

Friends and family meant well, but I'd hear things like, "Just put her to bed."

If only it were that simple.

The hardest part wasn't one bad night.

It was months.

I'd finally get Mia onto a schedule.

I'd remove naps during the day, even when she was little, hoping she'd build enough sleep pressure to rest at night. We'd establish a routine. We'd start sleeping again. I'd think, "We're finally getting there."

Then, almost like clockwork, the regression would come.

We'd be awake all night.

She'd sleep at odd hours during the day.

Everything we had built seemed to disappear overnight.

Then we'd start over.

Again.

And again.

People don't always see these parts of autism.

They see a child who stayed up late.

They don't see a parent who hasn't slept through the night in months.

They don't see the appointments you miss because waking an exhausted child after only a couple of hours of sleep feels impossible.

They don't see the constant calculations in your head.

"If I wake her now, will she melt down all day?"

"If I let her sleep, we'll miss therapy."

"Which choice is the least harmful today?"

The only thought that carried me through some of those nights was this:

Next year she'll be older. Maybe next year it will be easier.

For our family, over time, it did get better.

Through consistency, careful routines, paying attention to diet, encouraging movement during the day, and a lot of patience, Mia eventually learned to sleep through the night. Even more importantly, she shifted from sleeping during the day to sleeping at night, allowing me to finally get the rest my body desperately needed.

That breakthrough changed our lives.

But I also know our story isn't everyone's story.

Many autistic children—and autistic adults—experience ongoing sleep challenges. For some families, this isn't a season. It's their everyday reality.

If that's where you are today, I want you to know something.

I see you.

I know what it feels like to wonder how you're supposed to function after another sleepless night.

I know what it feels like to love your child with everything you have while also feeling completely exhausted.

And I know how lonely it can feel when the world keeps saying, "Just put them to bed."

Sometimes autism asks us to rethink what "normal" looks like.

Sometimes surviving one night at a time is enough.

And sometimes, the biggest victory isn't a perfect bedtime routine.

It's simply waking up tomorrow and trying again.