Why It Feels Easier to Care for a Baby Than Ourselves
Everyone loves to say taking care of a baby is hard. And yes, feeding around the clock, diaper blowouts, rocking and soothing, none of it is a vacation. But no one wants to admit that sometimes caring for a baby is easier than caring for ourselves.
When you’ve just had a baby, your whole identity tilts. You feed them, you change diapers, you and soothe on autopilot. But drink a glass of water? Take a shower? Make a therapy appointment? Suddenly that feels like scaling Everest in flip-flops.
This isn’t because you’re weak. It’s because we’ve been conditioned to put our own care at the bottom of the list. There’s a secret to not losing your mind as a parent, and it’s not by suffering through it.
In this article:
Baby Care vs. Self-Care (and What It Says About Mental Health)
Babies Can Cry But Moms Can’t
If Babies Need Routines, Moms Need Them Too
Prioritizing Mental Health Is Parenting
Giving Yourself the Same Care You Give Your Baby
Baby Care vs. Self-Care (and What It Says About Mental Health)
In the beginning, my postpartum body felt more foreign than my baby did. He was new, but he was mine. My body, on the other hand, had changed so drastically and hurt so deeply in those first weeks after giving birth that I didn’t want to touch it, much less look at it.
When it finally started to feel like me again, time vanished. I showered with my toddler, and his diaper took priority over my lotion. I’d throw on sweats and move on, while my husband—taunting me unintentionally—took his private, unhurried showers and applied moisturizer like a ritual.
Food followed the same pattern. In those early months I’d forget to eat or pick sleep over meals. Now, I mostly eat what my kid eats:
Half-eaten dinosaur nuggets.
Spoonfuls of leftover mac and cheese.
Whatever snack he wants to “share” with me.
My saving grace is my husband making a late dinner for me almost every night, and the occasional takeout lunch as my one indulgence.
And then there’s sleep. “Sleep when the baby sleeps” was a joke that first year, but now I actually do it because my toddler still wakes multiple times a night. The price is any personal time I might have had—no late-night talks with my husband, no dawn workouts, no quiet writing hours. I choose sleep, but I miss pieces of myself.
Related: 10+ Self-Care Activities for Busy & Broke Moms
Babies Can Cry But Moms Can’t
Babies arrive with a built-in permission slip. When they cry, everyone rushes to help. When they need to eat or be soothed, nobody questions it. Meanwhile, moms are expected to go silent.
If you cry, you’re hormonal.
If you vent, you’re dramatic.
If you ask for help, you’re failing.
After the hospital discharge, your own needs get reclassified as optional. You don’t get to be cranky, tired, or even sick. You power through exhaustion, ignore pain, and learn to endure.
It’s a double standard. My son can cry because he’s overstimulated, but if I admit I’m overwhelmed, I risk being labeled ungrateful or “not cut out for motherhood.” His meltdowns get compassion. Mine get whispers about postpartum depression. The baby deserves comfort. The mother is expected to endure.
Your needs didn’t disappear when you gave birth. They’re just as real and just as vital as your child’s. A nourished, rested, emotionally supported mother simply does better. Plus, it’s modeling what it looks like to be a whole person, not a caretaker in survival mode.
If Babies Need Routines, Moms Need Them Too
Babies thrive on predictable rhythms. Feed, sleep, soothe, repeat. We protect their routines like they’re sacred. But moms benefit from routines too.
Your mental health also needs structure. Think in small, unapologetic moves:
Eat real meals. Not just scraps from your toddler’s plate.
Sleep when you can. Let the dishes rot for one night.
Soothe yourself. Five minutes outside, a hot shower, or a song that makes you feel like you still exist.
Play. Read trashy fiction, doodle, or dance in the kitchen. Your brain needs joy, not just productivity.
These aren’t indulgences. They’re maintenance. Without them, the whole system breaks. Plus, when you model boundaries and asking for help, your child absorbs that as normal. You’re teaching them that caring for yourself is part of caring for the people you love.
Prioritizing Mental Health Is Parenting
Ignoring your own needs isn’t noble. It’s a slow bleed. It chips away at mental health until resentment and exhaustion set in.
Postpartum depression and anxiety aren’t rare. They’re normal responses to a massive life upheaval. Even if you’re not diagnosed, the mental load of parenting can flatten you. Taking care of your mental health doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re functional. It means you’re less likely to:
Snap at your kid.
Resent your partner.
Burn out before your child hits preschool.
And when you model rest, boundaries, and asking for help, your kid absorbs that as normal. You’re teaching them that caring for yourself is part of caring for the people you love. That’s not selfish. That’s smart.
Giving Yourself the Same Care You Give Your Baby
If your baby deserves to be soothed, comforted, and cared for, so do you. You don’t have to “earn” it. You don’t have to wait until everything else is done.
Small acts of self-care can feel awkward at first; like you’re breaking some unspoken rule. But the more you practice, the more you realize your mental health isn’t separate from your role as a mom. It’s the foundation of it.
The question isn’t why it’s easier to care for your baby than yourself. The question is how you can start treating your own mental health with the same tenderness you give your child. Because you deserve it, too.
If you’re struggling, you’re not alone. Postpartum Support International offers free resources and a helpline: 1-800-944-4773. Reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not failure.
