Why are people so annoyed by crying babies on planes?

Question from Nicole T., 29, Denver, U.S. Mom to 5-month-old twin girls, Lexie and Luna.

Nicole is flying cross-country to visit family. It's her first solo flight with both babies, and the stress of managing two crying infants, judgmental stares, and the pressure to "keep it together" is wearing her down fast. She's not just exhausted—she’s heartbroken at how little grace the world offers moms like her.

Mama, 

When my babies cry on a plane, I promise you, no one wants it to stop more than I do. I’m not sipping champagne in 14B while my twins scream in harmony—I’m sweating through my shirt, apologizing with every frantic look, bouncing one baby while my husband's holding a pacifier in the other’s mouth and silently praying they’ll sleep.

And still...
I can feel the sighs. The exaggerated huffs. The sideways glances and muttered jokes, like my babies are breaking some sacred in-flight code of conduct.

It’s like people think I chose this chaos. 
That I enjoyed lugging two strollers, three bags, and a double dose of teething through TSA just to ruin their flight.

But the truth?
I didn’t bring noise.
I brought two tiny humans who are just as overwhelmed by altitude and ear pressure and new faces as anyone would be—maybe more.
I brought love, fear, snacks I’ll probably forget to eat, and more guilt than anyone on this flight could imagine.

Because every time one of them cries, I’m not just hearing a sound—I’m hearing my own inner critic scream louder.
You should’ve planned better. You should’ve brought more toys. You should’ve stayed home. You should’ve known better.

But here’s the part people miss when they roll their eyes or throw shade from behind their noise-canceling headphones:
This isn’t just noise.
This is motherhood, mid-air.

And I get it—no one dreams of sitting near a crying baby on a flight. But no mom dreams of being the one holding that baby either. We do it because we have to. Because we’re trying to visit family, say goodbye to a loved one, or just prove we can leave the house. We do it because life doesn’t pause for nap schedules.

And to the mama in you who's rocking babies who won’t sleep while the world glares like you've committed a felony:
I see you.
I was you.
And you are not doing anything wrong.
You’re mothering in motion. And that is respectable.

With love through the turbulence,
Lina P.