What I Wish I Knew Before Building My Baby Registry

One of the first things we needed after Sawyer arrived was something embarrassingly basic: smaller diapers.

Ben had to go find preemie diapers because the child had apparently failed to review the inventory I had carefully prepared for him. I had spent months researching obscure newborn scenarios and somehow had not accounted for the possibility that my newborn would simply be smaller than expected.

That pretty much sums up first-time motherhood.

The same thing happened with feeding. I had planned for breastfeeding. Sawyer wouldn't latch, and because he was early and in the NICU, pumping became an important part of getting him fed and getting him home. Suddenly I was exclusively pumping, bottles mattered enormously, and my original feeding plan had essentially burst into flames.

You cannot predict all of that from your couch while you're pregnant. Believe me, I tried.

If your baby gets a vote on a product, I would not buy fourteen of it before they're born.

Bottles, pacifiers, diapers and swaddles are all things I would buy in smaller quantities now. We eventually loved Dr. Brown's bottles, even though they require washing approximately 847 tiny components every day, but there was no way for me to know beforehand that those would be the bottles that worked for Sawyer.

Your registry is not Costco. You do not get bonus points for having a six-month supply of everything before you go into labor.

Buy enough to start. Try things. Once your baby declares a winner, then you can stockpile it like civilization is ending.

Pregnant me also had some interesting ideas about the kind of mother I was going to become.

Apparently she maintained a beautifully organized diaper bag with designated compartments for every object. She had coordinated stations throughout the house. She always knew where the burp cloths were.

I would love to meet her.

I bought several diaper bags before realizing that actual me wanted a big Mommore tote where I could throw diapers, wipes, bottles, clothes and whatever else we needed and get out of the house.

I did the same thing with postpartum supplies. I built an entire bathroom setup around every recovery scenario the internet had ever mentioned. Numbing spray, cooling foam, witch hazel, ice packs, disposable underwear. If there had been a ribbon cutting, we could have opened to the public.

Then my actual recovery happened, and I barely touched most of it.

The mistake wasn't preparing. The mistake was assuming someone else's must-have would automatically become mine.

The wipe warmer sounded delightful when I was pregnant. Warm wipes for my sweet little newborn? Obviously.

Sawyer did not care.

The warmer eventually started drying out the wipes, then leaked after about three months and ruined the diaper caddy underneath it. So in my attempt to improve the diaper-changing experience, I successfully made the wipes worse and destroyed another product.

Excellent.

The Owlet was different. It wasn't a bad product. It just wasn't good for me.

I thought more information would make me feel reassured, especially after having an early baby and spending time in the NICU. Instead, it gave me another stream of information to check and analyze when what I actually needed was fewer reasons to stare at something at two in the morning.

Other parents love that kind of monitoring, and I completely understand why. For me, it created more anxiety than reassurance.

That's exactly the problem with blindly copying someone else's registry. Their solution may be solving a problem you don't have.

If I could change one thing about my baby registry, this would probably be it.

I wouldn't necessarily spend less money. I'd just spend more of it after Sawyer arrived, when I knew what would genuinely make our lives easier.

That's when you discover whether feeding is difficult, whether your baby loves being worn, whether you're constantly leaving the house, whether sleep is the problem you would gladly hand over your retirement account to solve, or whether your baby spits up enough to personally threaten the national cotton supply.

Those are the problems worth paying to solve because they're real.

Before baby arrives, get the basics ready. Research the genuinely expensive decisions. Have enough feeding supplies, clothes, diapers and other newborn essentials to get started.

Then leave yourself some room.

Amazon will still exist after you give birth. Target will remain operational. If you suddenly discover at 11:00 p.m. that you desperately need something you had never heard of three weeks earlier, someone can probably have it sitting on your porch before breakfast.

If my best friend were building her first baby registry tomorrow, I wouldn't hand her a 200-item checklist.

I'd tell her to buy the essentials, research the expensive things, sample anything her baby gets a vote on and stop trying to solve problems she doesn't have yet. I'd also tell her to leave some money in the baby budget for after the baby actually arrives.

Most importantly, I'd tell her that not having everything does not mean she isn't prepared.

That was the part I didn't understand.

I thought being prepared meant anticipating every possible need. Having Sawyer taught me that being prepared sometimes means having enough to get through today and being willing to figure out tomorrow when you get there.

This is deeply irritating advice for planners.

I know.

I didn't like it either.

But your baby will eventually show you exactly what they need, what they hate and which random $12 thing becomes the most useful product in your entire house.

And weirdly, you'll make much better shopping decisions once they're here.

If you're currently staring at your registry wondering what should stay, what can go and what you can absolutely wait to buy, read my full guide:

“What You Actually Need Before Baby Arrives (and What Can Wait)”

That's where I break down the products that actually earned their place in our house, what I'd buy again, what could wait and the random things I never expected to love.

Because apparently my contribution to society is now talking other pregnant women out of owning five diaper bags.

I'm comfortable with that legacy.