Despite being short on storage space, I’ve hung on to all of my firstborn’s baby gear on two theories:  a) that we’ll use it again; b) that if I give it away prematurely, I’ll immediately fall pregnant at the worst possible moment.

The mojo worked.  Kyd is three, and baby #2 is on the way.  Just in time for me to freak about Bisphenol A in all those Avent bottles and sippy cups that I’ve saved, stored and moved - twice - since my son was a babe in arms.

I won’t bore you with the debate.  If you’re gripped by insomnia, simply search for “Bisphenol A” and read the details.  Yes, it’s been around for a century.  Yes, the tests are inconclusive.  Yes, it’s only dangerous if the bottles are damaged.  

But you know what?  I’m pitching my bottles anyhow.  We didn’t have a dishwasher during our bottle-days, so everything we owned was routinely boiled - a.k.a., damaged.

So last night, I announced to my husband my intent to do so.  ”Okay,” he replied.  I blathered on for a few minutes, until he interrupted.  ”You do realize you’ve said the word study three times in five minutes?”

“Really?  Well, I just don’t want you to think that I’m wasting money.”

“Honey, I don’t care.  I didn’t care what you bought for Kyd, either.”

“But we talked about it.”

“No.  You talked about the Avent system and how it was more natural and adaptable and something or other.”

“I did not!”

“Oh yes, you did.  I told you then, and I’ll say it again now.  Order a custom-designed set from Germany or buy cheap-o versions from the Dollar Store.  Whatever.  Let’s just feed the baby.”

It’s another one of those funny moments.  I don’t find Precious Moments sweet, my voice doesn’t raise three octaves when I see a baby animal.  But I’m still a mom, not a dad.  And so I worry about things that are probably best simply dealt with - or ignored.

My husband tells me that if men got pregnant, all deliveries would be via scheduled C-section.  No one would feel guilty about not breastfeeding.  And few dads would expend energy, he insists, fretting that they’ve no time to teach their baby sign language or make their own baby food.

So add one more to his list:  men would simply dump the BPA-laced bottles and buy something else.

Guess that’s what I’m going to do, too.