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Walking into the third trimester, the list of baby items

To my fellow humans who are reading this, everything I say here are my plans, hopes and dreams. It's not the right way to do things, and it's not my intention to present it as such. There is such a great diversity of ways. 

A couple of days ago, I walked into the final chapter of my pregnancy, the third and final trimester. The second trimester, from around week 16 when I stopped taking my medication for hyperemesis gravidarum, was a magical time. Towards the end of it, I began to feel more pregnant. It was more difficult to walk all the way up to the fifth floor. I began to experience occasional back aches and heartburn. At the same time, I was enjoying ever more noticeable movements of my baby and getting even closer to finally meeting him. 

Many fellow humans have mentioned nesting to me, saying that this is something I would experience. I haven't experienced it yet. I don't feel any desire to change anything in my home. From the very beginning, when my partner and I moved in together, we created our home around our values, such as simplicity, sufficiency, and peacefulness. This space feels safe, comfortable and calm to me, with very few items, natural materials and neutral colours. 

I've never wanted a nursery (and our home is too small for one). I personally don't feel attracted to the aesthetic of nurseries so common in the area where we live. I don't want to have a cot, rugs, a bed canopy, baby gym, special furniture such as a changing table, multiple shelves with many months' supply of diapers and baby wipes, various lotions and creams for the baby, posters with writing that the baby will not understand, countless hangers with baby clothes for various occasions, equipment such as baby bouncers and sling cradles, technology such as baby monitors and white noise machines. Such things have been normalised in our society. At some point, I thought that one must have them all when one has a baby. It's only when I decided to have a child myself, I decided to dive deeper into my assumptions. I realised that it is still my choice to invite some items and say no to other ones. I realised that I didn't have to stress about hanging dozens of tiny clothing items on tiny hangers, removing dust from multiple picture frames, or trying to find ways to dispose of dozens of packages of baby wipes if my son is allergic to them. I could simply forego such things. 

My baby is an integral part of my life, and we will live in the same space. Many of the same practices that I perform every day will apply to the next chapter of my life, too. For example, I wear the same outfit every day, for all occasions. My baby will wear similar clothes as well, in the same colours and materials, so that I can simplify my laundry routine and hopefully reduce the chance of his skin irritation, in case he is born with the same skin condition that I have. I live with an autoimmune skin condition, and my skin reacts negatively to some fabrics and dyes. Some fellow humans believe that bright colours and patterns are better for a baby, as they are more entertaining and stimulating. Personally, I don't remember at all what I wore until I was around 6 years old. I don't think that my baby will remember, either. There are so many wonderful, bright colours in nature that both him and I can enjoy. He will be born in summer, when there is a magical abundance of colours: various shades of green, brilliant blue sky, bright orange chanterelles in forests. There are various flowers, the sea, orange carps in local lakes. 

I've been asked what I will invite into my life just before and after the baby is born.

My partner and I sketched a list of the most important items that we will need, but we are not in a hurry to acquire these things. Some of them we have already.

A mattress. We will co-sleep with the baby on the floor (we usually sleep on the floor and don't have a bed), but he will sleep on a separate mattress. We will use the mattress that we already have. When I was a baby, I slept in a cot next to my mother's bed. As a mother myself, I've not felt attracted to the barred sides of the cot. While I understand the safety aspect of them, to me a cot looks like a cage. 

A sling. I will not use a pram. I plan to babywear, and for that I will use a sling made from organic cotton. 

Cloth diapers (plus waterproof covers and paper liners). Disposable diapers are certainly something I want to avoid. My grandmother and my mother used cloth diapers for their children, and I plan to do the same. They didn't have waterproof covers (they used plastic instead), but I will. I was given many (used) cloth diapers by my stepmother-in law. These days, I use them to dry my hair, to protect my hair from the sun, and to wrap the camera when I take it out. When the baby is born, I will use them for all kinds of baby-related purposes. 

Swaddles. In the first weeks of my life, I was not wearing any clothes. I was swaddled instead: my grandmother and my mother would wrap me (not tightly) in layers of cotton cloths and blankets, depending on the temperature inside and outside (I was born in winter). My baby will be born in June or July. Here in Denmark, it's usually very warm during these months. In our home, the temperature often reaches 25 degrees. I hope that inside the baby will not need to wear much most of the time, and can be gentle swaddled some of the time. 

Clothes. To me personally, plain body suits made from organic cotton felt the most appealing and versatile. My partner bought a white bodysuit for the baby, but we will have several of them, as well as plain trousers. This will be the baby's uniform, which is similar to what my partner and I wear. I don't think that the baby needs different clothes for different activities. 

I plan to breastfeed, at all times, even when I have meetings and other commitments. I don't plan to use bottles and equipment associated with them. 

After the items we use are no longer needed, I will save them for the zero-waste space that I am dreaming about and that I wrote about in my previous entry. In that space, I hope to have a tiny byttestation (swap shop) where baby items can be gifted and shared in my local community. 

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Dreaming

When I was younger, especially during my school and university years, I had very little time for dreaming. My days were structured and full, often with compulsory but not very enjoyable activities, without much space to recharge, check in with myself, and dream. These days, I prioritise dreaming, among other things. I often sit down in the this corner (in the picture above), with a glass of tap water or with tea, to dream. For me, it's such an important practice of simple and slow living. 

Do fellow humans usually share their dreams with others? I share my practice openly via this autoethnography, so I decided to share my dreams, too. 

Moving to Rønne

It's a town in Bornholm (a Danish island). I fell in love with this town when I first visited it. It's where the ferry arrives from Ystad, Sweden. If you are in Denmark for some weeks, I would recommend visiting Rønne, and Bornholm in general, for a few days. Many artisans and artists live there. It's a very healing space by the sea, that is so welcoming to slow, deep, simple living. I would like to live there and grow my own food. 

Realistically, my partner and I will not move there in the coming years. My partner has childcare responsibilities in Copenhagen. But perhaps we will spend more time in Bornholm in the coming years, as I would love for my child to be close to nature as often as possible.

Writing a piece about extremely minimalist pregnancy and parenting

In my life, I've written numerous academic articles, a PhD monograph, a solo authored book, a co-authored book (here's a link to all my academic works). And while several of my works use this autoethnography as my data, my works have been academic. 

I would love to write about my experiences of extremely minimalist pregnancy and parenting, for myself and for fellow humans who are interested in these topics. I've been taking many notes on extreme minimalism, pregnancy and parenting throughout my pregnancy. Those fellow humans who have been reading this autoethnography for some time have probably noticed that this topic has been on my mind ever since I got pregnant. I've also been trying to find information about navigating pregnancy and parenting in a way that would be close to how I live my life (with very few possessions, slowly, simply). Such information certainly exists. Yet, it feels fragmented and overpowered by information about other approaches. This is not to say that I believe that my approach is the right one, but it's the one that is right for me and perhaps for some fellow humans, too. 

I remember talking to my partner about having a child. Pregnancy and having a child is so expensive, he said. Like many fellow humans, we could not afford a normal (in the area where we used to live, Frederiksberg) pattern of consumption with countless pregnancy and baby related items (special pillows, baby gyms, bouncers, strollers, toys, clothes for different occasions, pieces of furniture and equipment). Even buying all these items second-hand would not be affordable. Neither would I want to consume this way, as it would conflict with my worldview, preferences, values, and mental health. 

Despite finding very little information about extremely minimalist pregnancy and parenting, and many warnings about my approach that I received from fellow humans, I decided to dwell in my authenticity and welcome all successes and failures. I'm learning a lot on this path, and I want to share all these learnings in a more holistic way.

Running a zero-waste space

I've been researching sustainable businesses since 2016, the year I started working on my PhD. My PhD itself was about small sustainable businesses. Over the years, I've taught sustainability in business, had wonderful, deep conversations with hundreds of businesspersons, and written about sustainable business. I've been dreaming about running my own cooperative business for a long time. It would be a space that combines a zero-waste shop with learning opportunities (workshops, talks), and free exchange between fellow humans. Very often, I feel sorrow about a lack of zero-waste stores in Copenhagen, and I would love to run my own one. My partner and I wrote to a funder that funds academic projects to ask if they would support this initiative (as we would also like to research our own experience of starting a business). While they like the idea, they cannot provide startup capital. This is unfortunate because funders support buying equipment (lab equipment, computers and so on) for research in the natural sciences. As social scientists, we study organisations, among other things. While it's easier to study existing ones, it feels meaningful to study the ones researchers establish themselves. Otherwise there remains a gap between theory and practice. I notice it in my own academic field: researchers make suggestions for businesses that look good in theory but are completely unrealistic, at least in the short-term. 

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Celebrating and supporting my ageing process

Recently, a fellow human asked my partner and I how we felt about ageing. We sat down and talked about it (here), but I wanted to share my reflections here in my autoethnography, too. It's such an important topic. As I'm writing these words, I'm 36. My body recovers much slower than previously. I have some grey hairs and wrinkles. My skin is looser, especially on my face. 

I love ageing. 

I didn't grow up in an environment that celebrated ageing. My mother and grandmother would often talk about the signs of ageing they were observing in their bodies, sharing ideas on how to look younger. For my grandmother, her appearance was a source of attention and validation, and losing her youthfulness seemed to be challenging for her. Both these fellow women were buying anti-ageing products and dyeing their hair. Other fellow humans in my social circle were also worried about ageing, researching various ways to try and prevent it, spending substantial amounts on various potions. 

Then my mother died in her early 40s. I was 17 at that time. She died young, and this encouraged me to think more about ageing, getting old, to develop a deeper relationship to ageing, something that my mother never experienced, as she never truly aged. 

I observed that many wonderful things came into my life with age: a more holistic, stable and helpful philosophy of life, wisdom, knowing what I truly wanted in life, things that I genuinely appreciate (such as love and my family). 

When I was younger, I was trying to please my mother by doing well at school. Like many fellow humans, I was brought up to be attentive to the wisdom of older persons. With age, I came to the realisation that it was not my task to please others, and that older persons could be wrong, or their ideas of, say, success, could be very different to mine. For example, a while ago, a male professor told me that to succeed in academia, I and other fellow women, needed to behave "like men". This suggestion went so completely against my own life's philosophy. I strongly believe in a caring, gentle, nurturing approach to life and fellow beings. In authenticity and intuition. I heard his advice but decided not to take it seriously. Even older persons can say things that are utter nonsense, or simply don't align with the way I want to live my life (and that's ok). Earlier in my life, I would think about someone's advice for many days, trying to examine my life and my behaviours. 

There are practices that I implement to celebrate ageing. I don't use hair dyes and anti-ageing products. In fact, I avoid anti-ageing products. I boycott them, as I don't want to support any brand that advocates anti-ageing. I don't want to be shamed for undergoing natural biological processes: getting wrinkles and looser skin, grey hair. I don't want to look younger, to use creams, injections, makeup and clothing to achieve that. I do not believe that we owe youthfulness to society, to men. 

Having said that, I appreciate energy and vibrancy that are usually associated with being young. I nurture vibrancy via walking as much as I can, via reading and writing. I intend to spend much time in nature with my child. Learning, unlearning, making plans for the future are all vibrant activities. 

Instead of trying to fight my ageing process, I try to support my body and my soul in this process. I try to focus on inner growth and create space for wisdom, learning, and unlearning. 

I pursue slow and simple living. I don't want to live in a bigger house, have a car, or more possessions. I don't want more expensive possessions or a lot of savings. 

I say no to the things that are not/don't feel nurturing. I don't experience fomo (fear of missing out). I am passionate about keeping my calendar as clear as possible. Learning to say no is so important. I feel that there is so much information online about how to say no, to avoid feeling guilty. But saying no should not be a source of guilt in the first place. It's as valid as saying yes, so I believe that there is one way, simply saying the word no. I observe that in my field, academia, many PhD students struggle to say no (to something that is clearly not their task), thinking that saying yes will earn them respect from those above them in the academic hierarchy. Yet, most of the time, it leads to exploitation of humans, them fulfilling someone else's obligations, working to progress someone else's career, doing activities far beyond what is in their contracts. I did my PhD in my 20s, and I certainly said yes to things that were not my tasks. But I don't do it anymore. There are always new opportunities and possibilities. Pregnancy has made it even easier for me to say no, as I prioritise my yet unborn child and my own wellbeing. I say no to most family events these days too, as I need more time to recharge and want to spend more time only with my yet unborn baby and nature.

I sleep as long as I need to. When I was younger, I could still do a lot while sleeping very little. As I'm ageing, I can't do it anymore. I feel physically unwell. I prioritise sleeping enough. 

I am excited about new signs of ageing and enjoy being on the path of being gentle towards my body that has been a wonderful home to my soul for so many years, that enabled me to grow and experience life. 

Some fellow humans say that I will change my attitude towards ageing when I face problems of old age, such as illness. I was very ill when I was a child for periods of time, so I personally don't associate young age with health and getting older with illness. Having said that, I will navigate issues when they arise and will not worry about them until then.