A Fabric Hug
Years of waiting and heartache,
Wondering, will it be this time?
Years passed, hope dwindled,
Still no baby that was mine.
Then a miracle happened,
A new life had begun,
The years of waiting were over,
We were going to have a son.
I kept him safe inside me,
And watched my belly grow.
We talked to him every day
So our voices he would know.
Forty weeks passed quickly,
It was time to see his face.
But he was clearly too comfortable
To leave his warm, safe place.
Two more weeks of waiting,
Still our baby was not here.
And then early on a Sunday morn,
At last his cry I did hear.
My beautiful baby was here at last,
My relief I couldn't hide.
But my little boy just wasn't content
I think he wanted back inside!
I loved being a Mummy,
But my baby, he would cry!
Rocking, singing, cuddling, feeding,
What else could I possibly try?
We'd been given a turquoise stretchy wrap,
A big long piece of cloth.
I was desperate for a rest,
But my son just wouldn't drop-off!
I wrapped the fabric around me,
Tied it nice and snug.
Popped my son inside the folds,
A great big fabric hug!
Suddenly my life had changed,
My son was a happy chap.
I could actually get a few jobs done,
Whilst my son enjoyed a nap.
That stretchy wrap was wonderful,
It helped me find my feet.
But soon he got too big for it
So off I went to the sling meet!
Well that was how it all started,
And now my son is almost two.
And as my son has grown in size
My sling stash has expanded too!
Slings have taken us everywhere,
From weddings to the Olympic park.
I wouldn't be without them now,
I really love this baby wearing lark!
My son has watched the world go by,
Held close to his mummy's heart,
We've talked, we've sung and learnt a lot,
We've rarely been apart.
I've heard all the great 'advice',
Like "a rod for your own back".
But I'll carry on wearing my precious son
In our fabric piggyback.
This passion for wearing my little boy,
Has also found me friends.
Both locally and worldwide online,
The fun just never ends!
I have to admit slight sadness,
Now my son is so grown-up.
That our baby wearing days are numbered,
I'm not ready for this closeness to stop!
Now I know my story isn't unique,
Dramatic, special or crazy.
As I know we as Mums are united in cherishing
The time we have wearing our baby.
Now I savour it every time I wrap
This precious son of mine.
And cherish every sleepy cuddle,
As one day it will be the last time.
I know that when I'm old and grey,
My heartstrings it will tug,
As I recall the magic of
That great big fabric hug.