Baby registry: what you actually need (and what you can safely leave off)
That electric sterilizer three people told me I "absolutely had to" put on the registry? I used it six times. Six. It now lives in the basement, right next to the yogurt maker I bought in 2018 with the same enthusiasm.
I'm telling you this because, when you start working on your baby registry, you get buried under advice from people who love you but gave birth fifteen years ago, or from blogs that seem more interested in filling your cart than your crib. And if you're not careful, you end up ordering 47 things, of which you'll actually use fifteen.
So let's do the opposite. What you really need, and what you can comfortably skip.
The things you'll use every day (and it's fair to ask for as gifts)
Long-sleeve bodysuits in size 50/56: you need a lot of them. At least six, eight if you'd rather not be doing laundry at three in the morning. They get wet, they get dirty, you leave the house wearing one and carrying two more in your bag. That's it.
One-piece footed pajamas with a zipper — a zipper, not snaps. Anyone recommending those little snap buttons has clearly never changed a diaper in the dark with a screaming newborn. A zip opens with one hand; snaps require mechanical engineering and patience, two things you don't have at four in the morning.
One good baby wrap or carrier. Just one — not three different kinds "to try out." If you can, try one at a friend's place first: there are many options, and the right one depends a lot on the shape of your back.
Diaper cream, yes, but one tube. Not a bunker-sized stockpile: it expires, and you can find a perfectly good one at any pharmacy.
And then the big things — the ones worth asking for as gifts because they genuinely cost money: a sturdy stroller (not necessarily the top-of-the-line model — the 1,200-euro German one will not make you a better mom), a well-certified infant car seat, and, if you plan to breastfeed, a comfortable armchair. The armchair feels like a luxury until you spend two hours straight nursing with a frozen back.
The things that seem essential but aren't
The 30-piece set of embroidered bibs with the baby's name on them. They'll look amazing in the first-week photos, and then you'll switch to the six-euro ones from IKEA because they're softer and you can throw them in a 60-degree wash without crying over turmeric stains.
The 0–3 month baby shoes. Three-month-old babies don't walk. Shoes only exist for Instagram photos, and within two hours they've lost both of them under the couch.
The "coordinated" 47-piece crib set with a duvet, bumpers, a fitted sheet, a sheet protector, a top sheet. On top of which, padded bumpers are now discouraged by pediatricians because of the suffocation risk, and duvets shouldn't be used before age one. So you're buying a beautiful set and using 30% of it.
The anatomical baby bathtub. For the first two or three months a thick towel in the sink does exactly the same job, takes up zero space, and doesn't force you to bend double over the tub risking a hernia.
And the electric sterilizer, see above. If you breastfeed you'll barely use it. If you use bottles, boiling them in a pot of water works fine for the first few months, and after that you won't need to sterilize at all.
The three-question rule
Before adding anything to your registry, ask yourself three quick questions:
- Will I use this more than ten times in the first six months?
- Is there a version that costs half as much and does the same thing?
- If I leave it off the registry, would someone give it to me anyway (like bodysuits, which arrive on their own from literally everyone)?
If the answer to all three is "not really," you can probably let it go without any regret.
And one thing nobody tells you
The perfect baby registry doesn't exist, and yours will change three times before the birth anyway. You'll add things that seem silly right now ("who even wants a white-noise lamp?") and remove things that feel vital today. That's fine.
The only thing that matters is that you build the registry yourself, based on what your home is like, what your life is like, what your day looks like. Not a copy of your sister-in-law's. Not the one an influencer posted on Instagram with PR products. Yours.
Your baby will wear six bodysuits, will often sleep on your chest, and out of all the stuff you've accumulated in those nine months you'll realize the truly essential things fit in a single bag.