Soothing the Storm: Why Your Baby Cries at Night—And How to Help Them Feel Safe Again

Is your baby suffering from Colic, tummy pain or overstimulation? 

There’s a moment many parents dread—often around 5pm.

The sun’s getting lower, the house is buzzing with noise and movement, dinner’s half-prepped, the older kids are getting tired and wild, and just as you’re thinking, maybe we’re okay today—your baby starts to cry.

And not just a little cry.

The kind of crying that spirals into hours of tears and stress. That grips you, tears at your heart because you feel you’ve tried everything and all you want to do is help your baby feel safe and calm again.

You feed them. Change them. Burp them. Walk the hallway. Bounce on the exercise ball. Nothing helps. They’re crying, and you’re unraveling with them.

That stretch—those long, unsettled hours in the early evening—is what people often call the witching hour. Or colic. And if you’ve ever been in the thick of it, you know just how powerless it can make you feel.

But I want to tell you something important.

It’s not your fault. And it’s not about “bad habits.”

It’s not even about wind.

It’s about overload.

The Cry That Says “It’s All Too Much”

For the first few weeks of life, your baby exists in a kind of bubble. The world is still fuzzy and close. Their focus rarely extends beyond your face, your voice, your scent, and the safety of your body.

But somewhere between 4 and 6 weeks, things start to change. They begin to notice more.

The flicker of a lightbulb.

The barking of a dog.

The rhythm of dinner prep and the rise in your own voice as the day wears on.

Your baby’s brain is wired to take in all of this—but not to sort it out. Their sensory system is still immature, and by the end of the day, it’s full.

Overloaded. Wired. And then, the only thing left is to cry.

And here’s the catch: we often try to soothe them in ways that actually add to that sensory input.

Passing them from one well-meaning visitor to the next. Jiggling, bouncing, singing, talking. Trying to find the “thing” that works.

But the truth is—your baby doesn’t need more stimulation.

They need less.

They need to be brought back—to the dark, warm, rhythmic space that felt like home for nine months.

Some Babies Need the Womb a Little Longer

There’s a beautiful term I use often with families: the Fourth Trimester.

It’s the idea that human babies are born neurologically unfinished. Unlike many animals, they can’t regulate their temperature, or calm their nervous system, or block out sensory input.

That’s your job, for a little while.

And while all babies benefit from womb-like care in these early weeks, some really need it.

I see it all the time in my practice—babies who are sensitive, alert, always feeding, always needing to be held. They’re not “difficult.” They’re just not ready for the noise of the outside world.

And it’s often these babies who show the strongest signs of evening fussiness. Not because something is wrong—but because they’re trying to regulate, and they don’t yet know how.

What Settles Them Isn’t What You Think

When a baby is overstimulated, we instinctively want to help. We do things. We bounce, we switch arms, we offer another feed, we pace.

And often, we accidentally create more stimulation—eye contact, changing positions, new sounds, lots of talking.

But what your baby is really asking for is familiarity. Not novelty.

What helps is the womb.

Not literally, of course. But sensations that echo what they once knew so well:

• • The close wrap of swaddling

• • The steady rhythm of your heartbeat

• • The low whoosh of white noise or a soft shush

• • The slow, repetitive pat-pat-pat on their bum

• • The side or tummy position while held (safe for cuddling, not sleeping)

• • The warmth of your body as they lay chest-to-chest with you

This is what tells your baby’s brain:

“You’re safe.”

“You’re held.”

“You can stop now.”

The Science Behind the Calm

When we recreate those womb-like sensations, we’re not just soothing for the sake of comfort—we’re helping your baby shift from sympathetic nervous system activation (that fight/flight/stress state) into their parasympathetic state (rest, digest, settle).

That shift is huge.

Because the longer a baby cries in a wired, overloaded state, the harder it is for them to settle—even if they’re fed, warm, and dry.

But when you anchor their body with stillness, rhythm, and softness, their whole system begins to slow. Their breathing steadies. Their cortisol levels drop. Their muscles stop twitching. Their jaw relaxes.

You’re not just calming your baby. You’re teaching their nervous system how to regulate.

And that’s a gift that will echo into toddlerhood, childhood, and beyond.

This Isn’t About Perfection—It’s About Presence

Let me be clear—none of this means you have to do it alone. In fact, the opposite.

One of the best things you can do is prepare for the witching hour as a team:

• • Eat dinner early or prep it in advance

• • Tag in and out with your partner or support person

• • Dim the house lights by 4:30 or 5pm

• • Let go of trying to get anything done between 5–8pm

• • Keep older kids calm with quiet play or stories

• • And most importantly—slow your own system down first

Because when your baby is in distress, they’re borrowing your nervous system to find calm. If you’re spiraling, they can’t land. If you’re grounded, they’ll feel it—and eventually, they’ll match it.

The Crying Will Ease—But These Foundations Matter

By three months, most babies begin to show signs of internal regulation. They’ll look away when overstimulated. They’ll suck on fingers. They’ll calm faster after feeds.

Colic fades. Witching hour lessens. Sleep starts to stretch. The fog lifts.

But what you do now, in these intense, tender weeks, lays the groundwork for that.

You’re not just managing tears—you’re building trust. Safety. Rhythm. Familiarity.

And that’s the heart of what I teach in all of my newborn sleep and routine support programs.

It’s not about controlling babies—it’s about understanding them. It’s about giving them what they truly need, not what the books or strangers at the park say they should be doing.

In Case No One’s Told You Today…

You’re doing beautifully.

Even when it feels like nothing is working,

Even when your baby won’t stop crying,

Even when you’re crying too—

You are your baby’s safe place.

You are doing the most sacred kind of work.

Let the chaos of the evening pass over you like a wave.

Draw the blinds. Hold your baby close.

Pat. Shush. Sway. Breathe, or use soothing sounds/white noise 

And know that this storm will calm.

And you are not alone.

Need help grounding your baby’s evenings?

I offer gentle, emotionally-attuned Newborn Consultations that walk you through how to build a calm, womb-like evening routine that works for your baby’s unique temperament.

Book a free intro call or download one of my comprehensive DIY guides.

Let’s help your baby feel safe—and help you feel steady again.