In early January, I headed over to Quilter’s Way to quilt Stitch’s grey and yellow star quilt on the Gammill longarm. Towards the end of the day, when I only had one more row of quilting to complete, a couple came into the shop. The husband was quite interested in how the longarm worked and stayed in the back to watch me work while his wife shopped. After explaining how the Gammill works with the computer software to quilt the designs I’ve chosen, the man astutely pointed out, “But the quilt edge isn’t straight, and the machine will quilt straight, so won’t it look crooked?”

Stitch’s Star Quilt on the longarm being quilted
I explained that it might be a little crooked, but once it’s all finished you wouldn’t be able to notice. Then he called me over to the edge where he was standing, because he thought I didn’t understand just how dire the situation was. I declined and said that I knew it was crooked, that I wasn’t perfect.
“But won’t that drive you nuts? It’s not straight.”
Again, I said, “I’m not perfect. It will be fine.”
“But it’s not straight,” he responded.
I have no idea how many times he told me that it wasn’t straight. He clearly thought I didn’t fully understand the non-straightness of my quilt border. Now, it’s somewhat important to note that I’m a perfectionist, so letting go of non-straightness isn’t my strong-suit. But at this point in the day, I had been leaning over the longarm with my bulging belly for about five hours, and I was exhausted. I could finish the quilting, or it could be perfect; I knew it couldn’t be both. I chose to finish the quilting.
The last time he emphatically stated, “But it’s not straight!” I pointed to my belly and responded, “Baby don’t care, so Mama don’t care,” and I made myself too busy to continue any discussion.
The conversation was both incredibly frustrating and amusing at the same time. I’m not sure I understand the gall it takes to insist so emphatically to a pregnant woman that there is something wrong with the quilt she is lovingly making her unborn child. On the other hand, he clearly thought that my baby deserved perfection, and I can somewhat appreciate that sentiment. Stitch does deserve perfection, though I’m pretty sure that he/she will see more “good enough” than perfection as we raise him/her.
I can laugh about this now, though, and in the last week or so I’ve embraced, “Baby don’t care,” as my new philosophy, my new mantra.
We’ve scheduled an early induction because of my blood pressure. As much as I want to keep Stitch cooking, it’s just about time to meet this sweet child. I’ve moved through a few phases since scheduling that date. Immediately, I felt relief. We had a date to work around. That date gave us a deadline for getting the car seat installed, setting up the Arms Reach Co-Sleeper, packing our bags, getting my mom out here for the birth, and knowing when Lloyd would have his final day at work.
After my baby showers this weekend, I moved on to the overwhelmed and panicked phase. You know the one: “Holy crap! I only have a couple of weeks to get everything done before the baby arrives!” I looked at the “prepare for baby” list we’ve been making throughout the pregnancy and spin myself into quite the tizzy. I knew I needed to re-prioritize and let some things go, but I wasn’t fully sure how I was going to do that. As Lloyd and I looked through the list, we were able to cut it down, partially by saying, “Baby don’t care if that’s done.” Some things baby don’t care about:
- When the taxes get done.
- If I get the workshop re-organized.
- If I make a diaper bag.
- If I make the going home outfit.
- If we get a load or two of stuff taken to donate to Savers.
- If I get the rocking chair recovered.
- If we’ve stocked the freezer with meals.
- You get the idea…
Nope. Baby don’t care, so Mama don’t care (or she’s trying really hard not to care). Here’s what baby cares about:
- Food: hello, boobs!
- Diapers: we’re cloth diapering, and I’m shopping for them on Thursday.
- Love & Snuggles: we’ve got plenty of that to share.
- A few outfits.
- Car Seat to come home: have–installing and getting inspected on Saturday.
- A place to sleep: have the Arm’s Reach Co-Sleeper, and Lloyd will set it up next week.
There are still a few more things I’d like to get done, but I’ll just do my best and remember that if baby don’t care, it can wait if necessary.
We get to meet Stitch! Soon! Pretty exciting stuff.
Natter with us