The Messy Truth About Raising Cute Babies (And Surviving The Crying)

It was 3:14 AM on a Tuesday, and I was trying to wrestle a screaming, four-day-old Leo out of a stiff, scratchy mustard-yellow linen romper that had, like, seventeen tiny wooden buttons. I was sweating through my nursing bra. My husband, Dave, was hovering nearby holding a cup of coffee that had gone cold sometime around noon the previous day, whispering, "Do you want me to cut it off him with scissors?"

I was practically hyperventilating, but I had specifically bought this ridiculous outfit because I wanted one of those aesthetic, perfectly styled cute babies for my Instagram birth announcement. I wanted the soft lighting and the sleeping angel. Instead, I had a furious, red-faced banshee who hated linen and was letting the entire neighborhood know it.

That night was the exact moment I realized my entire approach was wrong. I was prioritizing how things looked over how things actually felt. If you're reading this while desperately typing "why is my babi crying" or "how to make babie sleep" into your phone at 4 AM (typos and all, I’ve been there, my search history was a completely unhinged tragedy), you need to know something. The marketing lies to us. The newborn phase isn't about perfectly curated nurseries. It’s about survival.

Anyway, the point is, I learned the hard way what NOT to do. So if you want to skip the breakdowns, grab some coffee—seriously, go get some right now, I'll wait—and let's talk about what actually works when you're suddenly responsible for a tiny human.

That time my doctor laughed at my birth plan

I had this whole document printed out. Color-coded. It detailed exactly how I was going to manage Leo’s sleep schedule and feeding times right out of the gate. Dr. Miller, who's a saint but also has zero filter, looked at it, looked at me, and said, "Sarah, he doesn't even know he's a separate person from you yet."

She explained this whole concept of the "fourth trimester" to me. Apparently, human babies are basically evicted from the womb about three months too early. I guess it has something to do with our evolutionary history and having big heads so we can walk upright? The science is kind of fuzzy in my brain because I hadn't slept more than two consecutive hours in a week, but the gist was that their nervous systems are just completely raw. They aren't ready for the world. They want to be squished, rocked, and held constantly.

So, the schedule went into the trash. We did skin-to-skin instead. Kangaroo care, they call it. I literally spent the first month of Leo’s life sitting topless on the couch with him just strapped to my chest in a diaper. Dr. Miller said it helps keep stable their body temperature and heartbeat, which they apparently don't know how to do themselves yet. Honestly, it was the only way he would stop crying long enough for me to eat a piece of toast. It felt so incredibly isolating but also weirdly magical, you know?

The great immune system paranoia of 2018

Oh god, the germs. I became an absolute psycho about germs. Because another fun fact my doctor casually dropped was that newborns essentially have zero immune system. Like, none. A fever in a baby under two months means an automatic ER visit and a spinal tap.

Terrifying.

So Dave and I implemented a strict protocol. Anyone who walked into our house had to wash their hands like they were scrubbing in for a triple bypass surgery. My mother-in-law thought I was being dramatic when I made her use hot water and soap before she could even look at Maya (my second), but I didn't care. I wasn't messing around with RSV or whatever else was floating around out there. If you're currently alienating your extended family by forcing them to use hand sanitizer every five minutes, please know that you're completely justified and I support you.

Why I thought I'd never sleep again

Sleep deprivation is actual torture. It changes your personality. By week three with Leo, I was crying because Dave bought the wrong brand of oat milk and I honestly believed it was a personal attack against my character.

Everyone says "sleep when the baby sleeps," which is the most infuriating advice on the planet because when the baby sleeps is when you finally have two hands to wash a pump part or stare blankly at a wall. Plus, they only sleep in these ridiculous two-hour bursts because their stomachs are the size of a walnut and they need to eat constantly. My doctor hammered the safe sleep rules into our heads—always on the back, firm mattress, no blankets, no pillows, no bumpers. Just a baby in a crib.

But babies HATE sleeping flat on their backs. They have this startle reflex where their arms suddenly shoot out and wake them up, which is why everyone tells you to swaddle them. And we did! We swaddled them like little burritos. But then Dr. Miller reminded us that you've to completely stop swaddling the second they show any signs of rolling over, usually around two months, because if they roll onto their stomach while swaddled, they can suffocate. New fear unlocked!

So we aggressively transitioned to organic sleep sacks. We used Kianao’s breathable cotton ones because loose blankets are a total SIDS hazard, anyway, moving on.

If you're currently in the thick of the newborn sleep trenches, check out Kianao's organic baby essentials collection for things that actually make the nights slightly less agonizing.

When teething ruins whatever peace you finally found

Just when you think you've a handle on things—when they're finally sleeping maybe four hours at a stretch and you feel like a semi-functioning human again—teething happens. And it's hell.

With Maya, it started early. She was around four months old, drooling like a leaky faucet and chewing on literally everything. My shoulder, the edge of the couch, her own hands until they were chapped and red. It was awful.

I bought so much plastic crap trying to help her. Most of it was useless. But I've to tell you about the time the Deer Teething Rattle practically saved my marriage.

We were at this crowded coffee shop in Seattle. I was wearing leggings that definitely had spit-up on the knee, and Dave was trying to order lattes while Maya was just losing her absolute mind in the stroller. The wailing was echoing off the espresso machines. People were staring. I was panicking. I dug into the black hole of my diaper bag and pulled out this deer rattle we had just gotten from Kianao.

It’s this natural untreated beechwood ring with an adorable little crochet deer attached to it. I shoved it into her hands. She grabbed the wooden ring, shoved it into her mouth, and... silence.

She just aggressively gnawed on that smooth wood for forty-five minutes. The texture of the crochet part kept her hands busy, and the hardness of the wood was exactly what her inflamed gums needed. No toxic chemicals, no weird plastic smells. Just natural wood and cotton. I think I cried into my cappuccino out of sheer relief.

We also had the Panda Teether from them. It’s 100% food-grade silicone and BPA-free, which gave my anxiety a break. To be completely honest, it was just okay for us. It’s super cute, but Maya mostly just wanted to throw it across the room to watch me pick it up. Leo probably would have loved chewing on it, but Maya was weirdly picky. Still, it cleans super easily in the dishwasher, so I didn't hate having it around for the car seat.

Oh, and if you want something that keeps them distracted for more than three seconds, the Zebra Rattle Tooth Ring is seriously genius. It has this high-contrast black and white pattern. Babies can't really see colors well at first, so high contrast is basically like a giant neon sign for their developing brains. Maya would just stare at that zebra like it held the secrets of the universe while chewing on the wooden ring.

Lowering your expectations to the floor

If I could go back in time and shake that first-time-mom version of myself who was trying to button that stupid linen outfit at 3 AM, I'd tell her to just put the baby in a zippered onesie and go to sleep.

You don't need a spotless house. You don't need the perfect Instagram photo. Your baby doesn't need a rigid schedule. They just need you. Messy hair, unwashed yoga pants, running on three hours of sleep and cold coffee—you're exactly what they need.

So, cut yourself some slack. Let the laundry pile up. Accept the frozen lasagna your neighbor drops off. Let the baby chew on a safe wooden rattle while you stare blankly at reality TV for an hour. You're doing fine. Better than fine, really.

If you're looking for things that are genuinely safe, practical, and sustainably made so you don't have to stress about what your baby is putting in their mouth, check out the rest of Kianao’s non-toxic soothing essentials before you tackle your next sleepless night.

All the messy questions you're probably Googling right now

Is it normal that my newborn sounds like a literal dinosaur when they sleep?

Oh god, YES. Nobody warned me about this! I spent the first two weeks hovering over Leo’s bassinet because he was grunting, squeaking, and making these aggressive snorting sounds. My doctor told me their respiratory systems are just brand new and tiny, and they've to learn how to clear their own airways. Unless their chest is sinking in deeply or their lips are turning blue—which means go to the ER immediately—all that weird farm animal noise is just them figuring out how to breathe outside the womb. It’s exhausting to listen to, but totally normal.

Why does my baby hate being put down in the crib?

Because the crib is flat, still, and quiet, which is the exact opposite of where they just spent the last nine months! Think about it from their perspective—they were constantly moving, squished tight, and listening to your heartbeat and digestive system at like 90 decibels. If you think you can just lay them flat on a silent, stationary mattress and walk away, well, I tried that too and it was a spectacular failure. They need to be transitioned gently. That’s why rocking, white noise machines, and safe swaddling (until they roll!) are basically survival tools.

When will the teething drool stop?

Basically never? Kidding. But it feels like forever. With Maya, the drool started around three months and peaked every time a new tooth was pushing through. Sometimes it caused this awful red rash on her neck and chin from the constant moisture. I just kept a rotation of soft cotton bibs on her and constantly offered safe, non-toxic things for her to chew on, like that wooden deer rattle I mentioned. The heavy drooling usually ebbs and flows depending on which tooth is causing them grief that week.

How do I know if the toys they're chewing on are seriously safe?

This was a huge source of anxiety for me because they put literally EVERYTHING in their mouths. Dave caught Leo trying to chew on a TV remote once. You have to look for things that are explicitly labeled as 100% food-grade silicone, BPA-free, or natural untreated wood. If a plastic toy smells weirdly chemical right out of the package, trust your gut and toss it. Their skin and gums are so permeable, and the last thing you want is them ingesting phthalates just because a teether was cheap online. Stick to natural fibers and verified safe materials, it's just not worth the mental gymnastics otherwise.