The Daily Telegraph - Features
How I tried (and failed) to raise an eco-baby
As the Government announces a ban on wet wipes, Annabel Fenwick Elliott reveals how her own green intentions as a new mother were quickly scrubbed
I never used to be a hippy. Nowadays I assume it must be down to the pregnancy hormones, busy not just building a new human but radically changing their host in the process. Because before having my son Jasper, now 21 months old, I was a McDonald’s-eating, polyester-wearing gymphobe who took no issue with harsh chemicals on the skin. But by the time I was six months pregnant, my body was a temple. I swore never to use even soap on my baby, let alone allow him to touch non-natural fibres.
Perhaps it’s Mother Nature’s way of dealing with nihilists. Before deciding to have children, I never understood why the eco-zealots cared so much about what is going to happen to the planet over the next few centuries. Until then, I thought that there wasn’t much I (or indeed the West) could do about pollution until China and India followed suit.
In the run-up to Jasper’s birth, however, I started seeing the world through new eyes. Disposable nappies and baby wipes seemed like the most abhorrent assault on landfills, as did plastic toys and cheap clothes he’d outgrow within weeks. The prospect of putting lotions filled with ingredients I couldn’t pronounce on the perfect skin of a newborn baby seemed sacrilegious. As for formula in lieu of breast milk – poison.
For the first six months of Jasper’s life, I clung virtuously to these views. Breastfeeding was horribly painful, but I refused to give up. I did an awful lot of research into raising a “zerowaste” baby, diligently washing and air-drying 10 reusable cloth nappies a day and never so much as eyeing a wet wipe.
Everything changed after what was only meant to be a brief, illicit flirtation with Pampers nappies. I was travelling, without my husband Julius, and you can’t reasonably do this with a pile of bulky cloth ones. At first, I felt wretched using the disposable variety. But oh, the convenience. Jasper’s persistent rash cleared up (no reusable nappy will keep their skin completely dry). I didn’t have to change him as often. The laundry became manageable.
It was a slippery slope from there, leading me to where I am now, which is a well-meaning, albeit inconsistent approach that is at least sustainable (meaning I can stick to it; I’m not talking about the planet here).
There are ways in which I am still a hippy and ways in which
I am not. These practices might be useful for any new parent flirting with the idea of being kinder to the planet without going bonkers.
Although I no longer use cloth nappies, I have tested countless brands and recommend Bambino Mio as being by far the best. I do, however, continue to use reusable wipes (Cheeky Wipes do a sensible kit), which are also infinitely more practical than disposable ones.
I don’t use lotions on Jasper’s skin. Babies don’t need soap of any sort so cleansing products are just a gimmick. I’m also still suspicious of suncream and use it only occasionally, in favour of gradual sun exposure when it’s hot.
I’ll admit, though, that I do buy the most chemical-laden bubble bath, because the more foam there is, the more fun he has in the tub.
As for medicine, Big Pharma is OK by me. I refuse to be anything other than extremely grateful to live in an era that involves antibiotics, vaccines and painkillers. Jasper gets Calpol at the first indication that he might not be in tip-top condition, and antihistamines on long plane journeys to help him sleep.
I still breastfeed our nowtoddler (it stopped being agony around the nine-month mark), plan to keep doing so until he’s at least two, and would go through it all again with a newborn before turning to formula. The science is unequivocal; breast milk is near-miraculous in its benefits.
I rarely buy new clothes for Jasper. Instead, I buy all my favourite high-quality brands (Baby MORI, Mamas & Papas, Blade & Rose) used, on eBay. Swedish clothing brand Polarn O Pyret, too, has a good second-hand initiative that allows you to trade in your purchases when you’re done with them, ensuring each item they produce is worn by at least three children.
For the same reasons, I hate buying expensive new toys and books. It’s so easy to source pre-loved gear from other mums or on Facebook Marketplace.
I do, however, think it’s worth indulging in a few well-crafted essentials that will stand the test of time, so here’s what I didn’t get second hand. I’m evangelical about Lovevery, a company that sends age-appropriate Montessoristyle wooden play kits on a subscription basis. I would have been lost without my Artipoppe baby carrier (it’s the best, I tested more than 10 of them). I cherish our Stokke Tripp Trapp chair (which transforms from a high chair for newborns into a seat for kids and then adults). Grohangers will also expand as your little one grows. And ludicrously expensive as it is, the Moonboon Cradle – a baby bed that hangs from a frame and bobs up and down by way of a motor – was the only thing Jasper would nap in other than our bed.
When it comes to diet, I, as an animal-lover, have long been (mostly) vegan, for ethical reasons, and have always planned the same for my children until they are old enough to decide for themselves whether they’re OK with doting on dogs but turning a blind eye to factory-farmed pigs. This sentiment holds strong. If we had our own livestock, treated them kindly, and Jasper could grow up watching the realities from start to finish, I would have no problem with their consumption. As it happens, we don’t, and I refuse to buy meat or dairy from supermarkets; though we do plan to get some chickens soon.
I have, in recent months, dropped my shoulders slightly: Jasper eats locally caught fish, for nutritional reasons, because it’s too tricky making sure he gets everything he needs at this age without it. I still feel slightly hysterical when we’re at a playdate and another mother offers him sweets laced with E numbers – it seems to me a mad idea to get your toddler hooked on sugar any sooner than necessary – but I imagine I’ll eventually lose that battle, too.
Overall, I’m a lot more virtuous and eco-friendly than I was before having Jasper; but I’m a long way from the insufferable, modernity-shunning Earth mother I was in the early days of parenthood.
Of course, the single greatest way to reduce one’s carbon footprint, as any hardcore environmentalist will tell you, is not to have children at all. Having failed on that front,
I’m satisfied with the happy medium into which I’ve settled. No longer apathetic. But not quite a saint either.
Everything changed after what was meant to be a brief flirtation with Pampers nappies