“I want to use cloth diapers for our kid,” I said out of the blue one day as my husband and I sat on the couch, spending quality time together after dinner staring vacantly at the TV while mindlessly mashing buttons on the video game controllers we were both holding.
“Okay,” he said.
“It will save us money in the long run and—wait, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m cool with that,” he replied as something onscreen blew up in an amazingly colorful fashion.
And thus our cloth diapering experiences began in the most normal, boring way possible.
Of course the whole thing had started a few months earlier, when one morning before work I peed on a stick and then almost peed myself again when two bright pink lines unexpectedly popped up on the pregnancy test. Sometime between then and the conversation with my husband I started researching cloth diapers for our child-to-be. I suppose it is a testament to how routine and normal cloth diapers are in our household now that I don’t even remember why, or how, or where I began my research. The idea must have always been lurking at the back of my mind, though, because I’d always had sensitivities to disposable menstrual products while growing up. In college I discovered cloth menstrual pads and menstrual cups and for one week a month my life was suddenly much more tolerable, even though my family teased that I was now Officially a Liberal Hippie. When I found out I was pregnant, it wasn’t a stretch at all to wonder if my children would be sensitive