All I Want for Christmas is a Return to the Womb

Who wouldn’t, amirite? I realized recently it’s the only place I’ve never cried.

Since becoming an aunt, I’ve done a little bit of research on the kinds of things that calm down babies. Apparently swaddling makes them feel more secure because it makes them feel like they did in utero, and they liked being rocked because it mimics what happens to the fetus when the mother moves. My sister also told me how she uses a white noise machine to help her son sleep for the same reason—apparently it’s not so quiet in someone else’s body. It’s not really quiet out here either, but that’s mostly because of my sister’s son.

These young things, only in the world for a short time, already want to make their way back. I certainly can’t blame them. Do we really get over this? As someone who falls asleep frequently in cars (as long as my mother isn’t driving, ironically), I looked it up once and found that this is common and again, probably because it mimics the movement you experienced as a fetus.

Why aren’t people doing more with this? I feel like learning to sleep through the night and being discouraged from sobbing when uncomfortable has conned us all into a very unwomblike adulthood. I admired a swinging bed my sister got for her children and she remarked that the oldest would never sleep in it. He would cry as soon as he was put down. Talk about unappreciative. I would love a swinging bed, but they don’t make them in my size. (They should also start making regular swings I can sit in comfortably, but my theory about how adult gyms should resemble playgrounds is a rant for another day.) I’m also willing to settle for a cradle, even if no one rocks it back and forth for me. But it doesn’t matter—rocking beds are rare, very expensive, and don’t ship to Kuwait. And frankly, I’m scared to do too much googling on anything involving the words “adult” and “baby.” If you don’t know what I mean, count your blessings.

I’m going to have to settle for a weighted blanket, and I don’t mind that, but I think the uterus-inspired bed is a tragically unexplored sleep option. It is based on a fundamental psychological truth most millennials already know—we wish we’d never been born. I read some kind of quasi-inspirational quote once about how a baby crying as soon as it’s born is a sign of life and feeling pain means you’re alive, etc. but like, maybe babies start out crying because they’ve just left the most comfortable place they’ll ever know. Always the right amount of food you never have to ask for, a bed perfectly molded to the shape of your body, and it’s never too hot or too cold. People talk to you, but no one expects you to answer. For the last time ever, everyone gets happy and excited when you kick your mother.

Another bit of poetry I saw a while ago went something like, “I am looking for a home I’ve never been to.” I disagree. You’ve been there, and you just don’t remember it, because it was a uterus.