Why Are We So Uncomfortable With Babies’ Tears?
Over the past few months, I’ve noticed something when people interact with my baby. The moment he starts to cry, comments usually follow.
As I’ve grown more comfortable with his big emotions, it’s become even clearer when others aren’t. And when the people around me feel uneasy, I start to feel it too. My own discomfort rises, and of course, that makes it even harder for him to settle.
It has me wondering: why, as a culture, are we so uncomfortable with a crying baby?
Our baby cries, and we feel a pull to stop it right away. Our toddler melts down, and our instinct is to quiet them as quickly as possible.
Here are a few of the most common reactions I’ve seen:
1. Taking it personally.
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“He always cries when I hold him.”
Instead of recognizing what’s actually happening - a well-attached baby in the middle of normal separation anxiety - adults often assume the tears are about them. “It must be me.”
2. Minimizing the feelings.
“You’re okay.”
“Why are you crying? Nothing happened.”
Crying without an obvious reason confuses most adults. But babies cry for many reasons: frustration over a toy, the shock of a fall even if it didn’t hurt, or simply because their nervous system hasn’t yet caught up with their world.
3. Distracting from the moment.
“Look at this toy!”
I’ve seen this often with my son. He cries, and the adult nearby instinctively grabs something colorful to wave in his face. It feels harmless, even helpful. But imagine the last time you cried. You turned to a friend, voice shaky, and instead of listening, they jingled car keys in front of your eyes. That would feel dismissive, not comforting. If we wouldn’t want someone to react that way to us - why do we normalize this with our babies?
When we look at these reactions, a theme shows up. They’re not really about the baby. They’re about our own discomfort. When we’re unsettled, we want to make the crying stop so we can feel better.
And that’s not because we don’t care. It’s because our nervous systems are picking up on theirs. Their dysregulation touches ours. This is co-dysregulation.
The good news is, it works the other way too. When we take a breath and steady ourselves, we create space for them to do the same. This is co-regulation.
Of course it’s natural to want to soothe a baby. These responses are well intentioned. But as adults, it’s on us to pause, check that their needs are met, and then bring our own calm to the moment.
Because most of the time, a baby’s tears aren’t about us. Our role is to trust our instincts, meet their needs, and stay with them through the storm. To say, “I see you.” To let them feel what they feel, and still know they’re safe in our arms.
When we do this, we raise children who learn they can handle their emotions instead of needing to push them down. That’s resilience. That’s the gift we can give them.
So the next time you’re with a crying baby, notice what stirs in you. Breathe into it. Ground yourself first. Then watch what happens. More often than not, as you settle, they begin to as well.
