TOG ratings, decoded (finally)

There's a particular kind of tired that arrives, uninvited, somewhere around the sixteenth week — and there's a particular kind of relief that arrives with knowing it has a name.

For the first three months, our daughter slept like a textbook. Long stretches at night, predictable naps, the kind of baby that other parents look at with thinly disguised resentment. And then, almost overnight, she didn't.

What's actually happening

The four-month sleep regression isn't really a regression at all — it's a developmental leap. Your baby's sleep cycles are reorganizing into a more adult pattern, with distinct stages and more frequent transitions between them. Each transition is a moment when they could wake up. And often, they do.

The four-month mark isn't where sleep gets worse. It's where sleep becomes real — and your baby has to learn to do it the grown-up way.

The three things that helped

I'm going to skip the parts you've read elsewhere — the wake windows, the sleep training debate, the dark room. Here are three less obvious things that genuinely changed our nights.

1. A weighted swaddle transition. The Magic Merlin Sleep Suit gave her the proprioceptive input she'd been getting from the swaddle, but with arms free. We used it for about six weeks.
2. White noise on the boundary. Not loud, not in the crib — just outside the door. Loud enough to mask hallway sounds, soft enough she could sleep through it.
3. Letting her find the floor of her sleep. The hardest one. We waited two minutes longer than felt comfortable each time, and within a week she was finding her way back to sleep on her own.

None of this is medical advice. All of it is what worked for one family, on one baby, in one specific spring. Take what helps, leave what doesn't.