Lesson 4:Growth Looks Messy Before It’s Beautiful

It’s 2 AM, and Charli has decided it's time for a party. I’m rocking her in the dim glow of her nightlight. Her tiny fingers grip my shirt, her body restless. Just last week, she was sleeping through the night, but now, she wakes up crying, fighting sleep like she’s forgotten how. It feels like we’re going backward, but I remind myself: this is part of the process. Growth looks messy before it looks like progress.

As exhausted as I am, I know she’s not truly regressing. Her brain is working overtime, making connections, learning new skills. It won’t be long before she reaches a new milestone—rolling over, sitting up, babbling more words. Sleep regressions aren’t actually setbacks. They are proof that something new is on the horizon.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize: this pattern—chaos before progress—happens throughout life.

The Messy Middle of Growth

Babies wake up more at night when they’re learning something big. Their bodies and brains are adjusting, stretching, rewiring. It feels disruptive, but it’s really transformation.

And it’s not just babies. Older children, teenagers, and even adults go through their own version of this. Growth, in any stage of life, doesn’t look graceful while it’s happening.

Relationship "Regressions" Are Actually Progress

Think about adolescents trying to navigate friendships, dating, and independence.

• They test boundaries.

• They struggle with communication.

• They make mistakes—sometimes the same ones over and over.

It can be frustrating to watch. To an outsider, it might even look like they’re going backward—just like a baby waking up every hour after weeks of sleeping peacefully. But just like sleep regressions, these messy relationship struggles aren’t regressions at all. They are practice.

A teen who fumbles through friendships is learning what makes a good one. A young adult who struggles with boundaries is figuring out how to set them. A child who tests the limits is learning where they are.

It’s not that they’re failing—it’s that they’re still in the process of becoming.

The Caterpillar & the Butterfly: Transformation Takes Time

Growth never looks like growth when you’re in the middle of it. A caterpillar doesn’t instantly become a butterfly. Before it spreads its wings, it enters a cocoon—an unrecognizable, in-between stage. From the outside, it might seem like nothing good is happening. But inside? Everything is changing.

Sleep regressions feel like chaos before a baby reaches a milestone. Relationship struggles feel like setbacks before a child gains maturity. Transformation is messy before it’s beautiful.

Give Yourself Grace in the Transition

It’s easy to recognize that our children are growing, but what about us? As our babies and kids go through changes, so do we.

• You’re adapting just as much as they are.

• You’re learning patience, flexibility, and resilience in real-time.

• You’re doing the best you can in a moment that may feel overwhelming.

Just like your child needs time and practice to figure things out, so do you. There will be sleepless nights. There will be moments when you don’t have the right answer. There will be times you snap or break down in exhaustion. That doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human.

So, give yourself grace. The parent you are today isn’t the parent you were six months ago—and it’s not the parent you’ll be a year from now. You’re growing, too.

Unconditional Love Through the Chaos

Here’s what I’ve learned, whether we’re talking about a sleepless baby or a teenager stumbling through relationships: our job isn’t to rush the process. Our job is to love them through it.

• When my baby wakes up crying, I hold her, even though I’m exhausted.

• When my niece makes the same mistake again, I guide them, even though I’m frustrated.

• When someone I love is struggling through growth, I remind myself that learning doesn’t happen overnight.

Love doesn’t mean fixing the struggle. Love means staying present through it.

The Other Side of the Regression

One day, my baby will sleep again. And when she does, she will have grown in ways I couldn’t see in the moment.

One day, my niece will navigate relationships with confidence, and I’ll realize the lessons they were practicing all along.

And I’ll remember this truth: The struggle wasn’t a sign that something was wrong. It was proof that something was changing.

So whether you’re rocking a sleepless baby or guiding an adolescent through a tough season, take a deep breath. This isn’t regression. This is growth in disguise.