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I was twenty-four weeks pregnant, sitting in the sweltering heat of my Ford F-150 outside a suburban strip mall, ugly crying into a half-eaten sleeve of saltines. It was July in Texas, my ankles had officially merged with my calves,...

I was sitting on my living room floor, nine months pregnant with my oldest, sobbing into a pile of unfolded onesies because my mother-in-law called to say my registry didn't exist. There's this massive lie we all buy into when...

"You absolutely need the wipe warmer," my sister-in-law hissed across the table, leaning in like she was giving me state secrets. "If a cold wipe touches that baby's bottom, you'll never sleep again." "Don't buy anything," my hippie neighbor countered...

I'm standing in our London flat at 2am, holding an iPad my American mother-in-law mailed across the Atlantic, staring at a digital spreadsheet that's fifty rows deep in burp cloths alone. My wife is asleep on the sofa, heavily pregnant...