My Messy Journey With the Tula Carrier (And Why I Kept It)

It was a hundred and two degrees in July, right in the middle of a rural Texas Target parking lot, and my arms were bent backward like a stale pretzel. I was leaning heavily against the side of my minivan, sweating through my t-shirt, desperately trying to snap a piece of plastic between my shoulder blades. My oldest was throwing a level-four tantrum near the baby car seat because I wouldn't let him eat a discarded french fry off the asphalt, and the newborn strapped to my chest was wailing like a siren. I remember staring at the sky, cursing every single pristine Instagram influencer who ever made wearing a baby look like a serene, effortless meadow frolic.

I’m just gonna be real with you right out of the gate. Paying almost two hundred dollars for what's essentially a highly engineered canvas backpack made me want to throw up. When you run a small Etsy shop out of a spare bedroom and have three kids under five, that kind of money is a big deal. But my back was screaming, my oldest was an absolute terror, and I needed both of my hands free just to survive the hours between breakfast and nap time.

What my pediatrician actually mumbled about hips

With my first kid, I used a cheap, secondhand carrier I bought at a garage sale. He was my guinea pig, bless his heart. I’d strap him in, and his little legs would just dangle straight down like a ragdoll. I thought it was fine until my back permanently locked up and he started screaming every time I put him in it. My mom told me to just wrap him in a heavy quilt and tie it over my shoulder the way my grandmother did, which sounded like a fantastic way to accidentally drop an infant onto a tile floor.

When baby number three came along, my pediatrician, Dr. Davis, looked at me over her glasses and mumbled something about hip dysplasia and how a baby needs to sit in a squatted "M-shape" instead of dangling by their crotch. It sounded terrifying, though honestly, it was all wrapped in medical jargon that I only half understood while trying to keep my toddler from licking the exam room floor. I guess keeping their knees higher than their bum does something to protect the hip sockets from grinding out of place, but mostly I just noticed that she stopped crying when her legs were hiked up like a little frog in a proper ergonomic pouch.

So I started researching. I fell down a late-night rabbit hole of reviews and ended up buying the Explore model from Tula because supposedly it let you carry them facing inward, facing outward, and on your back. It felt like a massive gamble.

The great back buckle conspiracy

Let me talk about the upper back clip for a minute, because nobody warns you about this. When you first get this carrier out of the box, it feels incredibly well-made. The fabric is thick, the waistband is sturdy, and then you put the baby in, pull the shoulder straps up, and realize you're supposed to reach over your shoulders and buckle a tiny plastic clip right in the middle of your shoulder blades.

Who designed this? Seriously, you need the rotational flexibility of an owl to reach the darn thing. For the first two weeks, I had to wait for my husband to get home from work just to clip me into the harness, which entirely defeats the purpose of independent daytime parenting. I was furious. I’d be standing in the kitchen, strapped in but unbuckled, holding the shoulder straps tight with my hands like I was gripping parachute cords, yelling at the dog to get out of the way.

Then I found out about the t-shirt method on a random late-night forum. You clip the back strap *before* you put the whole contraption on. You loosen the shoulder straps all the way, slip the fastened loop over your head like a t-shirt, drop the kid in the pouch, and pull the straps tight under your arms. It completely changed my life and stopped me from boxing the whole thing up and demanding a refund. And yeah, it doesn't come with a lumbar support pad, but whatever, I just pull the waist strap tighter and move on with my life.

Clothes that actually work in this pouch

One thing you learn very quickly when you've another human strapped to your chest for three hours while you pack Etsy orders is that clothing matters. Both yours and theirs.

For my daughter's three-month photos, I bought this absolutely gorgeous Flutter Sleeve Organic Cotton Baby Bodysuit. It has these delicate little ruffled shoulders that are so sweet when she's just rolling around on the playmat. But let me tell you, shoving a kid wearing flutter sleeves into a structured carrier is a recipe for a wrinkled, squished disaster. The thick canvas straps of the carrier completely mashed the ruffles down into her armpits, making her look like a grumpy, squished linebacker. The ruffles bunched up, she got hot, and the whole elegant aesthetic was completely ruined by the time we got to the post office.

I realized I needed to ditch the fancy sleeves for carrier days. I ended up switching entirely to the Sleeveless Organic Cotton Baby Bodysuit. Look, it’s just okay in terms of visual excitement—it’s literally a plain, flat bodysuit—but it's an absolute lifesaver for babywearing in the Texas heat. It lays perfectly flat under the carrier panel, breathes incredibly well, and doesn't bunch up under her arms. Plus, organic cotton actually absorbs the inevitable bucket of sweat that pools right between my cleavage and her forehead, which prevents those nasty little red heat rashes we used to get.

If you're building a wardrobe specifically for days when you know you'll be wearing your kid, skip the bulky sweaters and the frilly shoulders. You can explore our organic baby clothes collection for flat, breathable layers that won't turn your baby into a sweaty, irritated mess.

The teething strap destruction

Right around six months, Dr. Davis told me I could finally flip her around to face forward, muttering something about waiting until her neck wasn't completely floppy so her airway wouldn't get pinched off if she fell asleep. But before we hit that milestone, she spent hours facing my chest. And right at four months, the teething started.

When they face inward, the padded shoulder straps of the carrier sit right at their mouth level. My daughter turned into a tiny, feral beaver. She would gnaw on those expensive canvas straps until they were absolutely saturated with acidic, sour-smelling baby drool. I tried tying a burp cloth around it, but she just pulled it off and threw it on the floor.

My favorite workaround became clipping the Panda Teether Silicone Chew Toy directly to the shoulder strap with a pacifier clip. Y'all, this thing is brilliant for carrier use. Because it's relatively flat, it doesn't jab me in the collarbone when she mashes her face into my chest, and the bamboo-textured silicone gives her something to aggressively chew on that isn't my expensive carrier. I just unclip it honestly and throw it in the dishwasher, rather than having to run the whole carrier through the washing machine because it smells like spoiled milk.

Why I finally made peace with the price tag

Despite the steep learning curve with the buckles and the sticker shock, this carrier is one of the very few baby items I honestly kept for all three kids. The size inclusivity is what really sold me in the long run. My husband is built like a linebacker, and I'm fairly petite, but the waistbelt easily adjusts to fit both of us without needing bulky extension straps.

We even use it for the older kids sometimes. The weight limit on the Explore goes up to 45 pounds, which means I can technically strap my three-year-old onto my back when we go hiking, rather than hauling around one of those massive metal-framed hiking backpacks that make you feel like you're summiting Everest just to walk around a state park.

If your back is screaming from holding a clingy infant while trying to cook dinner, you might want to scour Facebook Marketplace for a secondhand deal or just bite the bullet and buy a new one and violently wrestle it over your head until you master the t-shirt method.

Ready to outfit your baby in breathable layers that honestly survive a day in the carrier? Grab our flat-seam bodysuits and practical teethers before your next outing.

Messy questions you probably have

Do these carriers really fit plus-size moms?

Yeah, and this is one of the few things they don't exaggerate about. The waistband goes out to 57 inches without needing to buy a separate extender piece. I’ve loaned mine to a friend who wears a 3XL and she didn’t have any issues snapping it around her waist, though she did curse the upper back buckle just as much as I did.

Can I wash it when my kid inevitably has a blowout?

You can, but don't you dare put it in a hot dryer. I had a spectacular diaper failure in the grocery store once. I just threw the whole carrier into the washing machine on the cold, delicate cycle with some mild detergent and hung it over my shower rod to dry overnight. It took forever to air dry because the padding is so thick, but it didn't shrink or lose its shape.

Is the Explore model really better than the Free-to-Grow?

Depends on if you care about your kid facing outward. I bought the Explore specifically because I knew my nosy daughter would want to face the world eventually. The Free-to-Grow is cheaper and apparently a little softer out of the box, but you can only wear the baby facing your chest or on your back. If you've a super alert baby who gets mad staring at your collarbone, pay the extra money for the Explore.

Do I need to buy the infant insert?

Not if you buy the newer models like the Explore or the Free-to-Grow. They have these little snaps along the inside of the waistband that let you cinch the fabric down super narrow so a newborn's legs can stick out without doing the splits. If you buy a really old standard Tula at a garage sale, yeah, you'll need the bulky little pillow insert, and honestly, those just make the baby sweat like crazy.

How do I get the baby onto my back by myself?

With a lot of prayers and a soft landing zone. I'm just kidding (mostly). You start with them on your front, loosen the shoulder straps slightly, and sort of scoot the waist belt around your body while holding their arms and legs, essentially sliding them under your armpit to your back. Do it over a bed the first twenty times. You will feel ridiculous, but eventually, muscle memory kicks in.