Essential Baby Items: A Dilemma
March is baby month and I am now 37 weeks pregnant. Fatigue is setting in and my chill mom status is turning ultra chill with a little spice. Clothes on the floor? I can’t pick it up. Healthy meals? Too much time prep. Screaming toddler? This too shall pass. Milk spilled on the floor? Lord have mercy, I need to cry in my room.
“Nesting” is a phrase used to describe the urge that women get to clean and prepare for the baby as the due date nears. As someone from the United States, it also means, it’s time to buy things you don’t need because it makes you feel like you’re ready.
Truly, I have everything I need. The baby could be born today, and we would be fine. However, my materialistic tendencies from growing up in suburbia tells me otherwise. Why not get the super tempting, cutest, littlest, next best, most important, and useful gadgets out there?
So, this weekend I took the liberty of searching for baby items on amazon. My parents will help to transport the items in two weeks: A tote, travel changing pad, new crib sheets, a beautiful *new* baby carrier, wet bags, and a cute maternity outfit. There were also items I added, then deleted, then added again.
When insomnia hits at 3 AM, I’d roll over, and open amazon on my phone to once more, mentally gauge, is this all necessary? No. It’s not. I would then remove a few items from the list, add a few more, and then try to understand why I even cared about this so much when really, we need to buy a seven-seater car in the next two weeks. Why am I like this? Why do I feel like my wants are a need to be ready for baby? Can’t I just let it go, buy it all, and move on?
During COVID-19 I was pregnant with our first baby while living in Amman, Jordan. The city had strict guidelines that made nesting an interesting phenomenon. With days spent in lock down YouTube became my friend as I tried to learn what items were necessary to be a good mom. Let me tell you, the world of pregnant influencers is full of lies. A marketing scheme. The cost of baby items is unfathomable and the options unending. Even worse, I had access to none of it thanks to COVID and my geographical coordinates.
The curated nursery that everyone has, I deserve that for my first baby, right? One afternoon, after searching Facebook marketplace for items whilst full of pregnancy hormones, I literally found myself crying to Michael. He wasn’t raised in the suburbs of North America (like me) and at the time was a self-proclaimed minimalist. This combination resulted in a lack of empathy and heavy judgement on my materialistic leanings.
“How will I change my baby’s diaper without a changing table?” I asked in despair with a tear-stained face.
Cold as ice, Michael stood up and simulated a baby crying, “wa wa wa” and rushed to a room with an imaginary baby in his hands, arms extended out for dramatic effect. Threw a blanket on the bed, put the “baby” down, moved his hands around with speed and pronounced, “There! Diapers changed!” I’m pretty sure I exited the room crying all the more loudly for effect.
We never did get a changing table, and we did, indeed, end up changing Phoebe on the bed, with a blanket. Yet, with each child, this inner battle of what I need and what I want seems to creep up as the due date draws near.
So here I am today, with more than I could ever have asked for, and yet, I still find myself influenced by the cultural norms of US motherhood. Michael and I have both changed, I am now able to do more with less and we have since labeled him a “thrifty hoarder”, and yet this dance of contentment continues as we welcome our fourth baby into the world.
As a pregnant mother filled with conflicting emotions, my question for you is this: How do you keep yourself from buying more than you actually need?