My generation knows nothin’ ’bout birthing no babies. Everything from that time ago, it seems, is gone with the wind.

There was a time when new mothers would remain in maternity wards a whole week, while prison guards posing as nurses cared for the newborn around the clock. New parents would peer through the nursery room glass, proudly pointing out the infant they thought might be their howling child.

Today’s moms are on a fast delivery system, in and out of the hospital in less time than it takes to get a suit cleaned. And their babies, wrapped in swaddling clothes, stay with them in the manger until everyone is promptly dismissed, sleep-starved or not.

Instead of cradling the newborn in her arms for the ride home, today’s mom buckles the baby into a padded car seat that is buckled, backwards, into the back seat of the car, and thus the family drives away. There was a time when babies slept on their stomachs; now, they’re bound like mummies and placed on their backs on tightly fitted sheets, surrounded by bumper pads to protect from earthquakes. Monitors are strategically located throughout the house like stereo speakers so that each breath can be heard in great decibel levels.

When awake, the baby may sit and gurgle – as anyone with a full stomach would – in a bouncy seat with optional vibrator. Later on, baby may wish to spend whatever time, based on the automatic setting, swinging in a contraction more complicated than a bridge, or in a gadget called a Johnny Jump-Up that hangs between doorways by vise like grips.

There was a time when babies were bathed in a dishpan in the kitchen sink; now, they’re gently soaped while resting in a piece of curved plastic they will later use as their first snow sled.

How ingenious baby rigging is today. There are playpens that serve as changing tables and hammocks. There are car seats that lock onto strollers. There are strollers that have four-wheel drive, utility vehicles for infants that can roll over curbs, mount snowbanks, glide across cobblestones. All lightweight and portable and can be fitted neatly into the trunk of any car the size of a Humvee.

There was a time when moms could carry the baby in a canvas pouch like a kangaroo; now, there are steel-framed backpacks sturdy enough for a safari, in which to tote the infant through sprawling baby stores where more gear can be found within the city block.

Long ago, new parents nervously pinned cloth diapers on their baby’s buttocks; now, there are plastic “huggies” and “snuggies” by the box loads. There are containers of “wet ones” for the wet ones, and diaper pails that disinfect, deodorize and dissolve anything dropped therein.

Much has changed in a generation, and we could go on and on about it. But talk is cheap, as they say.

Unless, of course, it’s baby talk.