Cloth and I had a wonderful relationship for the first five months. Breastmilk poop was easy to wash and our treated city water made washing easy. But once we moved to the country, my wash routine problems started. Our water was full of iron and stained my diapers beyond recognition. I couldn’t get the ammonia stink out. Solid food poop for the most part was rinsed out easily, but a few diapers were collateral damage when Gillian had both beets and blueberries in the same meal. But I battled on with the help of a local diaper service who provided washing tips, new soaps to try and even stripped my diapers to help me with stains and smells. But then Gillian started getting horrible diaper rashes
and she was so sore that some nights she’d cry herself to sleep. Once the diaper rash cleared up (with disposables and a heavy duty prescription) I tried cloth again. And the rash came back. And with that, I broke up with cloth diapers. I packed them away, promising myself that I’d give them another shot. One day.