How the Village works, for family

Someone you love is pregnant, and they've sent you an invite code and a link to something called the Village. Welcome. This page is the friendly manual — what it is, how to get in, and how to be great at it.

What the Village is

The parents-to-be track their pregnancy in a private app. The Village is the window they opened for family: a webpage that looks like a cork board, where the moments they choose to share — bump photos, ultrasound scans, little updates, big news — get pinned for the people they love. You can react, comment, send messages, and write letters. It's not social media. There are no ads, no strangers, no algorithm — just your family, on a board.

Getting in

1. Open the board at the Village board.
2. First time? Tap "First time here? Enter your invite code." Type the code from the parents — it looks like ABC-123.
3. Create your account. Google sign-in is the easy path if you have a Google account; otherwise email and password works fine.
4. Set up your profile. A display name the family knows you by, your relationship ("Grandma," "Uncle," "Friend"), a color. This is the name that appears under your reactions and comments.

Each invite code works exactly once — that's what keeps the board family-only. If your code doesn't work, don't panic and don't reuse someone else's: just ask the person who invited you for a fresh one. And bookmark the page once you're in; you'll be back.

How to take part

• React. Tap a post and pick from the row of reactions — 💛 ❤️ 🥹 🙌 and friends. Your name shows up in a little pill under the post. The parents really do read every one. A 🥹 on every single post is not too many; ask any mom-in-law.
• Comment. A line or two under a photo means more than you'd guess — especially from the relatives who usually just lurk. You can delete your own comments if you typo; nobody else's.
• Write to the moon. The Moon tab is the Village's quietest corner: letters to the baby, from anyone in the family. You can share a letter now, or seal it — until birth, a birthday, even the eighteenth. Sealed letters stay hidden from everyone, parents included, until the day comes. Grandparent letters sealed for far-future birthdays are, in this author's opinion, the best feature on the board.
• Send a gift. The gift button opens the parents' own Venmo/PayPal/etc. handles — money goes directly to them, never through this site. You can also attach a song or a note to a moon letter. There's a little "I sent a gift" tag so they know to look.
• Message privately. The Messages panel is for one-to-one notes inside the family — "call me when you're free" beats a comment under the ultrasound.

The labor alert — the one thing to know in advance

When labor starts, the parents press one button in their app, and the Village changes: a glowing card takes over the top of the board with whatever message they sent. If you have the page open, it will make sure you notice. You'll see two reply buttons — "We're on our way" and "Sending love — keep us posted." Tap one. That's it. Your reply lands on the board where the parents can see who's coming and who's cheering from afar — which beats eleven separate "ANY NEWS?" texts to a person who is busy having a baby. (You might also see a practice run labeled as a drill some evening. Play along; it's how they make sure the real one works.)

House rules (there are only three)

1. What's on the board stays on the board. Don't re-share photos or news outside the family — including "just one" forward to a friend. The parents chose this audience on purpose.
2. Don't share your invite code or your login. If someone else in the family wants in, the parents will happily make them their own code.
3. The parents drive. They decide what gets shared and when, and they can tidy up the board. If a photo you hoped for isn't posted, the move is to ask them — not to post it yourself somewhere else.

If something won't load

The fix is almost always one of: refresh the page, make sure you're signed in with the same account you joined with, or try a regular browser window instead of an in-app one (tapping links inside some apps opens a stripped-down browser that dislikes sign-ins). Still stuck? Tell the person who invited you — they have a direct line to the developer, because they married him or raised him.