Babywearing is Love

Babywearing is Love.
It is sweetbaby held over my heart, a kiss away.
It is him so close he feels like he never left me, even though my skin's between us now.
It is private glances exchanged with trust filled eyes that have not worried or feared abandonment.
It is knowing that mama is there, only another layer of fabric away.
It is warmth.
It is cuddles although mama has things to do.
It is security.
It is peace of mind.
It is milky smiles without prying eyes.
It is nursing in the park without covering up.
It is hands free to hold baby or do the things baby needs, still with all the closeness of a hug.
Babywearing is love.


It is knowing he's safe because I can feel him.
It is reassurance.
Its silent joy that I am with him.
Its secret pride that he's content.
It is intuitively knowing the other's disposition because it is tactile, our body language not so visible, but communicated across our skin.
Its soothing swaying when he's weary.
It is a better view when he's awake.
It is protecting him from passersby.
It is protecting me from absent grief.
Its little fingers in my hair.
It is dozing forheads gently kissed in line at the post office.
It is doing what I have to do without giving up what I need to do.
Babywearing is love.



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