It was a Tuesday in late November, approximately 4:13 PM, and the Central Line carriage smelled faintly of damp wool, ozone, and my own big despair. I had one screaming twin strapped to my chest in a five-yard fabric wrap that I had tied with the misplaced confidence of a man defusing a bomb, and the other twin wailing in a pram that was currently blocking the doors at Notting Hill Gate. The fabric wrap, which a very serene woman on YouTube had promised would encourage "deep maternal bonding," was slowly untying itself. My daughter was sagging lower and lower toward my belt buckle with every jolt of the train, and I was sweating through my coat.

I realized in that exact moment that I'm not a fabric wrap sort of parent. I don't have the patience for origami when someone is screaming directly into my collarbone. I needed structure, I needed heavy-duty plastic buckles, and I needed something that felt less like a bohemian mix and more like a tactical rucksack.

That evening, while one twin finally slept and the other lay on the rug staring aggressively at a ceiling fan, I panic-bought a structured carrier. When the package containing our ergo baby carrier finally arrived a few days later, I didn't know it was about to become the single most used object in our house, entirely replacing the pram for the better part of a year.

The hip health lecture I wasn't prepared for

A few weeks into my new babywearing lifestyle, our NHS health visitor dropped round. She sat at my kitchen table, politely ignoring the crust of dried porridge on my sleeve, and mentioned something about hip dysplasia. Up until this point, I had vaguely assumed babies just dangled in these things by their crotches, sort of like fleshy keys on a lanyard.

From what I gathered through the absolute fog of chronic sleep deprivation, pediatric guidelines are actually quite strict about this. There's a specific M-shape they're supposed to form with their little legs, where their knees sit slightly higher than their bum, which supposedly stops their hip joints from popping out of place while their ligaments are still basically made of jelly. The health visitor seemed quite pleased with my setup, muttering something about ergonomic bucket seats and proper spread-squat positions.

I just nodded along, utterly exhausted, relieved that the massive padded waistband was doing its job. Apparently, some German campaign for healthier backs gave these carriers a medical seal of approval, which makes total sense because Germans absolutely don't mess about with orthopedic engineering and structural integrity.

Strapping into the heavy machinery

We specifically bought the ergo baby omni 360, mainly because the box promised it would last from newborn all the way through toddlerhood, and I was deeply opposed to buying multiple versions of the same item. I know some parents swear by the standard ergo baby 360, but if you've a baby under four months old in that older model, you apparently have to buy a separate padded infant insert to stop them slumping over. I lose my keys twice a day; I'm entirely incapable of keeping track of a separate padded infant insert.

The Omni version just sort of adjusted with a few velcro tabs on the inside of the waistband. When the witching hour hit at 5 PM and both girls started their daily screaming chorus, I'd grab the carrier, strap Twin A to my chest, whisper "alright, let's go baby," and march straight out into the drizzle to pace the pavement until she passed out. The skin-to-skin contact, or at least the bouncing motion of me aggressively power-walking past the local off-license, almost always knocked her out within twenty minutes.

I should mention that they also make an Ergobaby bouncer, but considering some consumer safety folks pointed out you can't let a baby sleep in an inclined seat anyway without risking their airway, I immediately tapped out of that purchase and stuck purely to the wearable gear.

Dressing for the personal furnace

Here's a deeply practical thing nobody tells you about strapping a human being to your chest: babies run incredibly hot. They're essentially tiny, angry radiators. If you put a baby in a fleece onesie and then strap them to your torso beneath a layer of canvas and padding, you'll both melt into a puddle of sweat within ten minutes.

Dressing for the personal furnace — The Ergo Baby Carrier: Surviving A Sweaty Central Line Meltdown

I learned the hard way that you've to dress them down for the carrier. We ended up keeping the girls in the Organic Baby Romper Short Sleeve Summer Suit even in the middle of winter if we were wearing them indoors or under a coat. The organic cotton is thin enough to let the heat escape, but the short sleeves prevent the rougher edges of the carrier straps from chafing their armpits. Plus, it has just enough stretch that you can maneuver their little legs into that required M-shape without the fabric bunching up and cutting off their circulation.

Staring into the abyss of the forward-facing carry

There's a massive amount of peer pressure in the parenting community to flip your baby around so they face outward. Strangers in the park will literally stop you to ask why your baby is facing your chest, suggesting that they're "missing the view."

Let me tell you something: they're four months old, Sandra. They don't care about the architecture of the local Tesco. They care about milk and whether or not they need a clean nappy.

The medical advice I managed to decipher suggests you shouldn't even attempt a forward-facing carry until they've rock-solid head and neck control, which is usually around five or six months. Even then, I deeply hated doing it. When you flip a baby to face the world, their center of gravity pulls completely away from your body.

Instead of the weight resting comfortably on your hips, it suddenly pulls your shoulders forward and violently strains your lower back. I tried it exactly twice for a walk around the local park. By the time I got back to the house, my lumbar spine was threatening to formally resign. If you're going on a long walk, do yourself a favor and keep them facing inward, or if they're old enough, chuck them on your back like a hiker's backpack. It's infinitely more comfortable, and it stops old ladies from trying to touch their cheeks on the bus.

The inevitable chewing of the straps

Right around the time the girls hit five months, the teething started. This coincided perfectly with their faces being exactly at the height of the padded shoulder straps on the carrier.

The inevitable chewing of the straps — The Ergo Baby Carrier: Surviving A Sweaty Central Line Meltdown

Every time we went for a walk, I'd look down to find them aggressively gnawing on the black canvas, leaving massive, soaking wet patches of drool right next to my collarbone. It was gross, and I was terrified they were going to chew right through the fabric and void the warranty.

My solution was to start clipping teethers directly to the shoulder straps. I bought this Sushi Roll Teether Toy mostly as a joke because I thought the little face on it was funny, but it actually became the best distraction tool we owned. Because it's made of that heavy food-grade silicone, I could just hook it onto the carrier loop. They would sit there happily destroying a fake piece of nigiri instead of destroying my expensive baby gear. It's totally smooth, so there are no weird crevices for the drool to hide in, and I just chucked it in the dishwasher when it got too vile.

We also had this Handmade Wood & Silicone Teether Ring, which was just okay. It looks very aesthetic and Scandinavian, and the wooden ring is nice, but it didn't hold their attention for nearly as long as the sushi one. Plus, when a baby gets frustrated and throws their head back, a wooden ring smacking you right in the sternum actually hurts quite a bit.

If you want to see what other bits we relied on to keep the twins mildly pacified during the chaos of the first year, you can browse Kianao's organic baby clothes and accessories.

The great washing machine disaster of 2022

Eventually, your carrier will start to smell like old milk and desperation. You will need to wash it.

I'm begging you to learn from my mistakes here. Don't just throw it in the machine on a hot cycle with a load of towels and then chuck it in the tumble dryer. I nearly warped the massive plastic waist buckle doing this, and if that buckle snaps, the whole structural integrity of the carrier is compromised.

Just make sure you clip every single buckle together before you wash it so they don't flail around and smash against the glass of your machine drum, run it on a cold, gentle cycle with mild detergent, and then hang it over a drying rack in a well-ventilated room to air dry. If your baby just does a tiny spit-up on the shoulder, don't run a whole wash cycle—just wipe it off with a damp sponge and a bit of soap. The less you put it through the washing machine, the longer the elastic and mesh will survive without disintegrating.

Grab a decent carrier, stock up on some chewable distractions, and godspeed on your next public transport adventure. Have a look at our teething toys if you need a starting point.

Questions I frantically googled at 3 AM

Can you wash a structured baby carrier in the machine?

You can, but you've to treat it like a delicate piece of machinery rather than a dirty pair of jeans. Fasten all the clips first so they don't smash your washing machine drum to pieces, use cold water, and never, ever put it in the tumble dryer. The heat will melt the plastic buckles and ruin the padding. Just hang it over a chair overnight.

When can my baby face forward in the carrier?

The health folks generally say you've to wait until they're at least five or six months old and have total control over their giant, wobbly heads. But honestly, facing them forward ruins your center of gravity and destroys your lower back, so I highly suggest keeping them facing your chest for as long as they'll tolerate it.

Do I really need a separate infant insert?

It completely depends on the model you buy. If you've the older original models, yes, you absolutely need the insert to stop a newborn from slumping over and restricting their airway. If you buy the Omni versions, you don't need one at all—you just adjust the velcro tabs on the waistband to make the seat narrower. Read the label on yours before you stick a tiny baby in it.

Is babywearing too hot in the summer?

It can be violently sweaty for both of you. If you run hot, you probably want a carrier made with mesh rather than heavy canvas. Always dress the baby in one less layer than you think they need (a thin, breathable organic romper is perfect) because your body heat will essentially cook them if they're wrapped in thick cotton.

Will a carrier stop the witching hour crying?

It won't cure everything, but the sheer bouncing motion of you walking combined with being pinned to your chest usually calms down their nervous system. It drops their crying by a massive amount, mostly because they eventually get bored of screaming and just fall asleep against your collarbone.