I thought I was joking when I told myself I might be possessed. What else explains lying awake at 12:52 a.m. thinking, “I’m so excited about my quilt I can hardly sleep”? That sentence would never have come from the pre-baby me. I’m the kind of person who irons curtain hems with hem tape and has a long history of sewing mishaps. Yet here I was, buzzing with excitement over a homemade quilt.
I didn’t follow any formal quilting rules. No classes, no manuals—just a lot of trial-and-error and the kind of enthusiasm that comes from wanting to make something special. I based my approach on a quilt I found on Pinterest and decided to adapt it into a simple, slightly-wonky patchwork baby quilt using the mixed fabrics from Clara’s weekly photo project.
I started by buying two yards of white quilted fabric—one of those pieces with a quilted cotton front and a thin batting already attached—on sale, and planned to use it both as alternating white stripes and as the backing. Then I washed everything (pre-shrinking and softening the fabrics), ironed the wrinkled pieces, and settled in front of the TV to cut strips.
I cut roughly 3″ x 12″ strips from Clara’s backdrops—about 27 patterned strips in total—leaving out anything too scratchy or non-textile (like rugs or cardboard). I also cut 30 matching white strips from the quilted fabric, which left me with enough leftover white fabric for the backing. I didn’t obsess over perfectly measured widths; the uneven, slightly off-kilter look is what I wanted.
With the sofa as my sewing station, I pinned a white strip to a patterned strip, then another white strip, creating a striped look. Nineteen strips made each row—nine patterned alternating with ten white—and I stitched them together using straight seams, ironing the backside of each seam flat to prevent bunching later.
I assembled three very long rows, each about a foot wide and three feet long, then laid them side by side to form a three-foot square. At that point I actually paused for a long stare—stunned that it was working. I considered staggering the strips like the original inspiration but found that a cleaner, aligned stripe looked less busy with my larger patterns.
After stitching the rows together, I ironed all the back seams flat, then pinned and sewed the rows to each other with the wrong sides facing out so the front seams would appear invisible. My sewing machine—a Brother XL2600I I call “Oh Brother”—was patient and steady, and once I got the hang of it the whole process felt doable and kind of thrilling.
Once the quilt top was assembled, I layered it with the backing, right sides together, pinned around three edges, and stitched most of the way around—like making a giant pillow sham. I left a small opening to turn the whole thing right-side-out, then hand-stitched that gap closed afterward.
At that stage it still felt like a pillowcase—front and back were only connected at the edges. The big step was quilting the layers together so nothing would balloon out. I nervously stitched straight lines down each white row from the top to the bottom, exposing seams on both sides. It required slow, steady sewing and a lot of focus, but the result was worth the nervous energy.
The finished quilt is far from perfect, but I love it. What began as a hesitant experiment turned into a cozy, meaningful baby quilt made from weekly photos and fabrics that document a little kid’s first year. Knowing this was one of my first sewing projects makes it even more special—proof that you don’t need perfect technique to create something heartfelt.
Here’s the finished back view—one more reminder that the quilt was made with love, not factory precision:
Now I get to give it to Beaner for her birthday. I hope she’ll keep it and remember that her slightly undomestic mom—who doesn’t usually cook or do laundry—made something special by diving into sewing. There were a few celebratory laps around the house when it was done, complete with my husband’s mock-rock anthem as I waved the quilt triumphantly. In short: I surprised myself, learned a lot about basic patchwork quilting, and ended up with a heartfelt DIY baby quilt that’s perfectly imperfect.
P.S. I even created a new “Sew Excited” category to track this little adventure—because yes, I got that excited about a quilt.