By far, one of the most immediately useful baby shower gifts we recieved for you was a cool orange and paisley, Indian-influenced sling from your Aunt Chrissy. While intially drawn to the colors and patterns, I couldn’t visualize how this contraption was meant to be used, and its safety? Well, that eluded me altogether. Who hangs a baby from a piece of fabric?!?! We’ll revisit that question later.
With the diligence and neurosis only new parents can claim, we washed your sling in Dreft and read the very simple brochure instructing us in its use. Then read it again. I read it once more, holding up the piece of faric this time as I read, in an effort to understand what the simple steps were directing me to do to my new baby. Folding and unfolding the homemade brochure, I searched for reassuring diagrams or statements that elaborated on the spare how-to steps. I did find testimony to the sling’s benefit to babies, especially those who make their debut early, as you had. While the earth momma in me responded to this, I felt this information was only a distraction to the task at hand–that of gaining the direction and confidence needed to drop you into this wearable pocket and set off to dinner. It took three of us and more than ten minutes to situate you precariously in the sling. I walked with measured steps the block and a half to Rosepepper, peeking in on you the entire time, recalling with horror the warnings received in the NICU of a premie’s inability to know when they need air. I’d stop the jar of walking periodically to feel your hearttbeat. I worried that I would sit down to my selfish need for some queso and a ‘rita only to find you had expired in your new “sling with benefits”! I guess it goes without saying, that was a stressful first use.
Today you and I confidently moseyed over to Portland Brew. A little over three months later, it no longer requires a team effort to get you in and out of your sling. You and I manage it on our own under all sorts of conditions: inside and out, in a crowd or when it’s just you and me, when you wanna get slung because you’re craving a sleepy snuggle with your mom and when you need to be slung because you’re fussy and nothing else will work to calm you. We’ve since purchased another sling–this one made of Guatemalan fabric, hand-dyed in cheery red, green, purple and yellow stripes of various widths. I have watched a video to get to this level of confidence, and I’ll admit, we have ony one or two positions down, but I love it and you love it. Today as we were leaving the coffee shop, a guy said, “I like your sling.” Another commented on how cozy you looked. And cozy you were, burrowing into me for the brisk walk in 40 degree air to social coffee and back home. I love that my hands are free and you’re right below me where I can kiss on your peach fuzz head any ole time I want and pat you when you wiggle. I love that I can go about some of the day’s chores with you near, comforted by the warmth of my body and the rythm of my heartbeat.
As for the question above: Who hangs a baby from a piece of fabric?!?! Most of the world, actually. Women in cultures across the globe carry their babies as they go about their lives, getting chores done in the home or in the fields. It’s so practical, and there’s a ton of research touting the benefits to the child. At its simplest explanation, babies who are worn can experience the world from the safety of a loving caregiver, building confidence and fostering curiosity and learning. (If anyone else want to know more about baby slings or wraps in terms more scientific than mine, google baby wearing or Dr. Sears.) I am honored and humbled to be among the women of the world who wear their babies. I figure we’re making up for that six and a half weeks you missed in the womb, lil man.
