Guilt and Babywearing.

... two things that seemingly have nothing to do with each other, right? I found out this week that this is not the case.

I recently committed to learning to carry little one #2 in a woven wrap. Woven wrap carrying is another level of wearing your baby- it takes real commitment to learn because it is very challenging and because there are 500 different ways to carry your baby in a wrap- each more labyrinthian than the next. The advice I have been given over and over is to do it once or twice a day for two weeks and you'll have figured it out.

It's like my Everest right now.

Two mornings ago, I almost chucked the wrap into the trash bin because after ten minutes of maneuvering around like a pretzel, discomfort, failed positioning and breaking out into a full-on sweat, I gave up and snapped my Ergo on in 3 seconds flat.

"So why not just wear the Ergo forever?" you might ask.

For one, my son has been in 24 month clothing for 3 months now and he's not even a year old yet. So, his Ergo days are numbered. But also, the wraps- once figured out- are so comfortable and can be worn so many different ways. Again... once figured out.

So far the easiest for me is the back carry. I lulled him to sleep on my back while walking him around the neighborhood the other night. It was yummy.

And then... it wasn't.

I started feeling huge pangs of mommy guilt. I was having the most lovely walk under the stars with my son, enjoying the balmy air and appreciating the peace and quiet. And I looked over to my husband who had little one #1 asleep on his back. I looked at her little sleeping cherub face- cheeks all smushed up against his back- and I wanted to cry.

My guilt was consuming me and I did the walk of shame back home to put the little ones in their bed. I sat down with my feelings and began to nervous knit (kinda like nervous eating but with less calories).

A montage of my daughter's babyhood flashed in my mind's eye and I dove deeper down into my shame spiral. From the moment I birthed her I was such a mess. If it wasn't breast issues it was depression or anxiety or severe self-doubt or crippling loneliness. I bumped her off to my husband countless times because I couldn't deal and I yelled and cried and felt hysterical more times than I can remember. I don't think I started to feel any semblance of normal until I was 9 months postpartum. Even then, it was only a slight trickle of light coming in through the cracks. So, to see myself able and happy to take my little one everywhere with me- since the very beginning- enough to commit to challenging babywrapping, it makes me feel sad. Like I jipped my first-born of a fun and happy first year. Momma guilt weighs the heaviest, I think. And mommas know how to lay it on themselves quite thick.

The only thing that helped me feel better was going back into our room and watching them sleep for a minute. No matter what has happened, I am a balanced and content momma now to both my little ones. It's a very human thing to have a hard time letting go of the past. That's okay too. A huge part of being a momma is learning patience, love and compassion to open your heart for enough room to bestow them unto yourself as well. To learn to be that compassionate mother to ourselves first so we can be the best one to our children and anyone else who needs our open arms and love.

Now that I'm done sharing, I'm off to You Tube to learn how to hip carry. That Poppins hip carry is NO JOKE... and it makes me feel like anyone BUT Mary Poppins!