​Baby on Board: You Will Need So Much Stuff (Part I)

Hello, again! The last time Baltimore magazine invited me to share my thoughts, I was packing my bag for the hospital. After going eight days past my due date, being induced, powering through a 31-hour labor, and ending with a grand finale C-section, we welcomed our healthy, chunky baby boy Lou. (And, if he ever tells you I don’t do enough for him, please show him that sentence.) Becoming his parents has been wonderful and exhausting, and I’m excited to share some of stuff we’re learning. Like did you know baby poop doesn’t smell until they’re eating solid food? Why has this been kept a secret? And where is my Pulitzer for breaking this story wide open?

The fact that parenting is still hard in 2016 is a testament to the fact that parenting is hard. We have instant access to so much information and so much stuff to help ease the brand new minds and bodies of our babies, and somehow I still found myself sobbing on the floor one night after our son pushed himself right to the edge of a colic diagnosis. (Colic is confirmed after three consecutive weeks of crying and Lou eased up a few days before that mark.)

I’ve created a list of the things that got us through the first three months of infancy. The first months are rough—you’re sleep deprived and in pain from the trauma of birth. Your entire existence now revolves around protecting someone you don’t really know or understand yet. Your relationship to your partner is tested in totally new ways and you have to find the time and energy to pay attention to each other. Leaving the house now requires a more organized mind than the architect of Versailles.

My list won’t work for every baby, but it worked for ours, and almost everything on here came as a recommendation from other moms. Also, almost everything on here came from Amazon Prime Now because, as I mentioned, it’s 2016.

Hyland’s Colic and Calming Tablets
I was initially skeptical of these tiny pills because they seemed like a guaranteed choking hazard, but after one use I was totally sold. They dissolve instantly and contain chamomile, which seems to gently take the edge off a screaming baby. They worked so well that we started to worry we were setting our baby up for the life of a mid-’90s Robert Downey, Jr., but our doctor assured us that they’re a safe, natural solution to colic, and Lou’s relief is visible when he takes them.

Windi
Oh, the Swedes. Only they could create such a perfectly packaged, streamlined fart stick. The Windi’s simplicity is brilliant. It’s just a small, beige tube that is gently inserted into your baby’s bottom and almost instantly relieves gas and/or constipation. After a particularly scream-y evening, I texted my friend, who is a new mom and a doctor (praise you, God of Friendship) and she advised me to buy the Windi. One well-tipped Amazon Prime delivery later, we had the Windis and a case of Orange La Croix (packaged separately), and were high-fiving over the whistling sounds of our son’s gas. The tube makes sure to let you know it’s working—music to our ears.

Baby Merlin’s Magic Sleepsuit
Our kid loved being swaddled. Some babies fight it, but Lou surrendered immediately to being live-action origami. We had about two blissful months of wrapping him up before he started to realize his arms were attached to his body and that their movements needed to be explored. We were equal parts thrilled that he was developing on schedule, and terrified that we could no longer safely bind his little body into slumber. Fortunately, we were alerted to the existence of Baby Merlin’s Magic Sleepsuit, which is a full-body suit made of thick cotton that mimics being swaddled. Traditional swaddling stops being safe after a baby can wriggle free and potentially cover their nose and mouth with the fabric, and the Michelin Man-shaped Merlin serves the dual purpose of being a worry-free swaddle and a hilarious photo opportunity.

Girdle
Because some celebrities suggested it, I had looked into post-pregnancy girdles to assist my waist in making its return trip to its pre-pregnancy size. Lucky for me, when you have a C-section, the hospital hands them out, so I avoided giving Nordstrom a hundred bucks for the privilege of keeping my organs in place.

If you end up having a C-section, take as many girdles as the hospital will give you. (I’m being dramatic. Two or three is plenty.) In the first days and weeks of recovery, these stretchy, Velcro wraps felt like they were holding me together—and, I’m not a doctor, but my instinct is that they actually were. They made it possible to lift and feed my baby, protected my incision (which meant I could wear clothes when visitors popped by), and they helped firm up my core as I healed. I relied on them so much that my husband had to explain that a girdle isn’t actually memento of Lou’s birth as I weepily held the last tattered cummerbund over the garbage can.

Sunglasses
We received these wayfarers as a baby shower gift, which I thought were really cool but not super practical. Then I had an infant and errands to run and I realized they are genius. Yes, Lou looks tremendous in them, but they also helped him nap longer when we were on the go. It sometimes felt a little Weekend at Bernie’s, but pushing that hip, slumbering baby around in his stroller made our first trips out into the world a little less scary.

Drake
Speaking of cool, our son responds really well to Canadian rap music. Other than his acceptance to a reasonably priced state school, our greatest hope is that we won’t have to explain the lyrics of “Hotline Bling” to him anytime soon, because it instantly stops his cries. I don’t know if it’s the bass line or that he’s pondering the motivations behind the Drake-Meek Mill feud, but Lou stops mid-holler and sort of dozes off. Interestingly, Raffi, another Canadian artist, is also part of our kid’s musical repertoire. No word yet on his stance on ice hockey.

Cradle & Swing
Our friends very kindly lent us their daughter’s arsenal of infant furniture: a Rock’n’Play, a bassinet, a Bumbo, and this swing. Known in our home as “Robot Dad,” this monument to sane parenting occupies serious space, but is worth every lost square foot. There comes a moment when your baby has stopped responding to the enormous volume of love, protection, and gritted smiles you are forcing upon him, and you realize he just needs to be put the hell down. Robot Dad would accept Lou into his loving, padded seat and rock him side to side to the soundtrack of bullfrogs (extra points to Robot Dad for giving our City Kid access to nature sounds.)

With its solid 75-percent sleep success rate, we came to rely on the swing in some of our darkest hours. And though Lou is a bit too big to fit in the seat now, it’s still perched in our living room, reminding us of our serious limitations as parents.

Megan Isennock is director of communications at the Downtown Partnership of Baltimore. If you like baby pictures, she’s got a few on her Instagram.