Vulnerable
Last night, I went maternity-clothes shopping at the mall’s only maternity store, seeking a maternity swimsuit. I found one, along with a cute top and a cute dress. A very nice sales associate was helping me find sizes. When I went to check out, I was offered the following: sleeping bras; a subscription to Parenting magazine; on-sale Capri pants; and a credit card linked to a 529 plan. I was also given a bag full of baby-related samples. Andrew was astounded by the level of up-sell that I, as a pregnant woman, was subjected to.
But this speaks to a larger state of vulnerability we’ve both found ourselves in. We know nothing about baby stuff—we have, at this point, no way to distinguish between what our baby will actually need and what she won’t. It seems like everything comes with a safety warning, and online reviews are all over the map. Crib mattresses, for example—some were denounced as too soft; others for having a chemical-y smell; some for being too plastic-y; organic ones for being not organic enough; others for costing $300. Should we look for an organic mattress? Will a regular mattress hurt the baby? Is $300 a lot for a mattress? Will we harm the baby if we go with a mid-range mattress—not the scary-cheap $50 one, but maybe the $120?
And those sleeping aids—the ones that look like napkin holders—that are supposed to keep an infant safely on her back at night? Seems necessary to me—of course! keep her safe on her back!—but is it?
It’s endless. If a canny sales associate took us aside right now and said, “Most parents spend $1,000 or more on a crib mattress,” we’d say fine, ring it up. Ring up that $1,500 stroller, too, if that’s what they’re supposed to cost. And that $800 crib. We have no critical facility in this area. We are extremely vulnerable. And I, at least, am afraid to use cost as a guide, fearful that buying a cost-conscious option will put our baby in danger in some way. I want only the safest and the best—but does this have to mean the most expensive? In non-baby life, the answer is not always yes. In baby world, I have no idea.
Laid low by this confusion, we are simply not buying anything except books our child will be too young to enjoy for many years. Books we know. Books we can do.
But this speaks to a larger state of vulnerability we’ve both found ourselves in. We know nothing about baby stuff—we have, at this point, no way to distinguish between what our baby will actually need and what she won’t. It seems like everything comes with a safety warning, and online reviews are all over the map. Crib mattresses, for example—some were denounced as too soft; others for having a chemical-y smell; some for being too plastic-y; organic ones for being not organic enough; others for costing $300. Should we look for an organic mattress? Will a regular mattress hurt the baby? Is $300 a lot for a mattress? Will we harm the baby if we go with a mid-range mattress—not the scary-cheap $50 one, but maybe the $120?
And those sleeping aids—the ones that look like napkin holders—that are supposed to keep an infant safely on her back at night? Seems necessary to me—of course! keep her safe on her back!—but is it?
It’s endless. If a canny sales associate took us aside right now and said, “Most parents spend $1,000 or more on a crib mattress,” we’d say fine, ring it up. Ring up that $1,500 stroller, too, if that’s what they’re supposed to cost. And that $800 crib. We have no critical facility in this area. We are extremely vulnerable. And I, at least, am afraid to use cost as a guide, fearful that buying a cost-conscious option will put our baby in danger in some way. I want only the safest and the best—but does this have to mean the most expensive? In non-baby life, the answer is not always yes. In baby world, I have no idea.
Laid low by this confusion, we are simply not buying anything except books our child will be too young to enjoy for many years. Books we know. Books we can do.
Comments