"What?" she whispered, terrified they’d missed a crucial piece of plastic.

Then came the "essentials" that felt like a foreign language:

Mark looked at the high-tech wipe warmer, still unplugged in the corner. Then he looked at Sarah. "We forgot the one thing that wasn't on the list."

"The internet says cold wipes make babies cry like they’ve been touched by an icicle," Sarah replied, checking it off.

Six different brands, because apparently, some babies prefer to be wrapped like a burrito, while others demand the "arms-up" approach.

A stainless steel tower designed to contain scents that could arguably peel paint.

Next came the . They had spent four Saturdays test-driving them like they were buying a luxury SUV. They settled on one with "all-terrain suspension," even though their primary terrain was a flat sidewalk leading to a coffee shop.