My Daughter Has Woken Up at 3am Every Day for 16 Years-Why I'm Now Thankful

By April Perri, as told to Newsweek

My daughter has woken up at 3 a.m. every single day for the past 16 years.

People often ask how I do it. How I don't lose my patience; how I function. The honest answer is that, at the beginning, I didn't do it very well.

I was exhausted, frustrated and constantly wondering if this was how my life was going to be forever.

I've always needed a lot of sleep. I love rest, so when my daughter started waking up so early, it felt like my body and brain were under attack.

I remember lying awake at night thinking, will it be like this forever? It was extremely hard to get used to and for a long time, I really, really hated it.

But loving my daughter, Lilly, has made me stronger than I ever thought possible. One of the biggest lessons I had to learn was not to internalize what was happening. She can't control it, and neither can I.

We can either make the best of it, or we can be miserable. That part, at least, is my choice. She's my best friend and she's worth it.

A large number of neurodivergent children struggle with sleep, and my daughter is no exception. Her body operates on an atypical circadian rhythm, meaning her internal clock doesn't neatly align with daylight and darkness the way most people's do.

The hormone melatonin, which helps signal sleep, doesn't always release when it "should," or in the amounts expected. Add in sensory sensitivities and the fact that she doesn't get the same kind of physical activity most kids do-running, jumping, wearing themselves out-and it becomes clear that this isn't one simple issue with a quick fix.

It's a collection of small factors that pile up. Over the years, I've learned that searching endlessly for a solution only drained me further. At some point, I had to accept that this was part of our reality.

That shift didn't come easily. I'm a huge advocate for therapy, and it was through cognitive behavioral therapy that I first heard about a concept called radical acceptance. When my therapist explained it, I was furious. I didn't want to accept this. I was tired, overwhelmed and angry that I didn't have a clear answer for why this was happening.

Everything changed after 2016. That year, I nearly lost my daughter to sepsis. She spent 75 days on life support.

I remember sitting there, praying for her to open her eyes, thinking, I'll wake up at 3 a.m. for the rest of my life if you just stay. In that moment, sleep felt meaningless compared to the possibility of losing her.

After she survived, I couldn't look at those early mornings the same way. The alternative to waking up at 3 a.m. was unbearable, so I chose the mornings.

I leaned into them. I bought a cute coffee maker, splurged on good creamer, wrapped myself in a cozy robe and lit a candle. I embraced it and made the best of it.

I get to watch the sun come up with my best friend every single morning. Not everyone gets to say that.

For other parents living with long-term challenges they didn't choose, I hope my story offers a different way to look at things. Try shifting from "this is happening to me" to "this is happening for me." Hard things refine us. They shape qualities we might never develop otherwise.

Ask yourself what this experience is building inside you, and then ask how you might someday use what you've learned to help someone else. Pain doesn't have to be wasted.

If given the choice, I will take 3 a.m. every time.

2026 NEWSWEEK DIGITAL LLC.

This story was originally published May 22, 2026 at 2:00 AM.