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How babywearing saved my motherhood

It’s you and your little one, exploring the world together.

How babywearing saved my motherhood

As mamas, we have a lot to carry. From the emotional burden of adapting to our new roles to the mental load of remembering. All. The. Things—it’s not always easy being a mom.


Which is why we’re so appreciative of things that make our lives easier. From the best Pinterest organizing hacks to meal delivery services to same-day deliveries from Target, we’re all just looking for an extra hand now and then.

For me, that extra help came in the form of babywearing.

How do I begin to explain the effect babywearing had on my early mama life? As a first-time mom, struggling to find a balance between caring for my daughter, myself, my home, and work part-time out of our apartment, it seemed like there was rarely a moment when my cup didn’t runneth over.

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I remember so vividly circling my tiny living room, a screaming baby in my arms and an eye on the clock as the minutes ticked down to my next conference call. My daughter refused to let me put her down, but she seemed so irritated with all my bouncing, jostling, and shimmying to try to quiet her.

In a fit of desperation, I haphazardly tied on a soft, stretchy baby wrap a friend had sent me and popped my baby in.

Her cries turned to whimpers, and then soft breaths. Within minutes, she was sound asleep, her head tucked gently near my collarbone, her tiny pink mouth wide open and snoring.

It was a miracle.

From that moment on, I was hooked. Babywearing became my salvation, not only as a respite from the tantrums and a solution to the fussiest mornings, but also for cranky teething days, when my daughter demanded to be held—but the rest of my life also demanded that I get things accomplished.

I often found myself skipping the stroller as we ran errands in our New York City neighborhood, instead preferring the dexterity of the baby carrier. I didn’t have to worry about steep curbs! I could simply open doors and stroll through, instead of stretching myself to hold the door and push my stroller at the same time. Plus, my baby would more often than not be out like a light within a block or two, allowing me to shop and walk for up to an hour (hands-free!) without any interruptions.

Plus, did you know worn babies tend to cry less than babies who aren’t worn? That’s all the science I needed to confirm my obsession.

The practicality aside, I grew to love the feeling of my daughter curled snugly against my body. I often found myself adopting the same postures I had when I was pregnant, my hands cupped around her tiny back the way they used to hold my belly. Only now, I could take deep inhales of her sweet-smelling hair or glance down to grin at each other as we walked.

As she got older (and heavier), we adapted to back carriers, which provided even more convenience for running errands. Once, we even hiked six miles around a lake in Canada with her strapped to my back, her tiny face peeking over my shoulder as we breathed in the woods around us.

Now, it’s my number one advice to new moms: Get thee a baby carrier! Whether it’s a sling, a wrap, or something more substantial with buckles, they all serve their purpose. Babywearing brings comfort to little ones and convenience to mamas.

Because that’s the beauty of baby carrying: It’s you and your little one, exploring the world together.

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I felt lost as a new mother, but babywearing helped me find myself again

I wish someone had told me before how special wearing your baby can be, even when you have no idea how to do it.

My first baby and I were alone in our Brooklyn apartment during a particularly cold spring with yet another day of no plans. My husband was back at work after a mere three weeks of parental leave (what a joke!) and all my friends were busy with their childless lives—which kept them too busy to stop by or check in (making me, at times, feel jealous).

It was another day in which I would wait for baby to fall asleep for nap number one so I could shower and get ready to attempt to get out of the house together to do something, anything really, so I wouldn't feel the walls of the apartment close in on me by the time the second nap rolled around. I would pack all the diapers and toys and pacifiers and pump and bottles into a ginormous stroller that was already too heavy to push without a baby in it .

Then I would spend so much time figuring out where we could go with said stroller, because I wanted to avoid places with steps or narrow doors (I couldn't lift the stroller by myself and I was too embarrassed to ask strangers for help—also hi, New Yorkers, please help new moms when you see them huffing and puffing up the subway stairs, okay?). Then I would obsess about the weather, was it too cold to bring the baby out? And by the time I thought I had our adventure planned, the baby would wake up, I would still be in my PJs and it was time to pump yet again.

Slowly, but surely, and mostly thanks to sleep deprivation and isolation, I began to detest this whole new mom life. I've always been a social butterfly. I moved to New York because I craved that non-stop energy the city has and in the years before having my baby I amassed new friends I made through my daily adventures. I would never stop. I would walk everywhere just to take in the scenery and was always on the move.

Now I had this ball and chain attached to me, I thought, that didn't even allow me to make it out of the door to walk the dog. This sucks, I would think regularly, followed by maybe I'm not meant to be a mom after all.


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I never wanted to be a mom. It wasn't something I ever thought would happen until I fell madly in love with my husband—who knew very well he wanted children. While he was a natural at entertaining our nephews or our friends' kids, I would awkwardly try to interact with them, not really knowing what to say or do.

Our first pregnancy was a surprise, a much-wanted one but also a unicorn, "first try" kind of pregnancy. As my belly grew bigger, so did my insecurities. How do you even mom when you never saw motherhood in your future? I focused all my uncertainties on coming up with a plan for the delivery of my baby—which proved to be a terrible idea when my dreamed-of unmedicated vaginal birth turned into an emergency C-section. I couldn't even start motherhood the way I wanted, I thought. And that feeling happened again when I couldn't breastfeed and instead had to pump and bottle-feed. And once more, when all the stress from things not going my way turned into debilitating postpartum anxiety that left me not really enjoying my brand new baby.

As my baby grew, slowly so did my confidence that I could do this. When he would tumble to the ground while learning how to walk and only my hugs could calm him, I felt invincible. But on the nights he wouldn't sleep—whether because he was going through a regression, a leap, a teeth eruption or just a full moon—I would break down in tears to my husband telling him that he was a better parent than me.

Then I found out I was pregnant again, and that this time it was twins. I panicked. I really cannot do two babies at the same time. I kept repeating that to myself (and to my poor husband) at every single appointment we had because I was just terrified. He, of course, thought I could absolutely do it, and he got me through a very hard pregnancy.

When the twins were born at full term and just as big as singleton babies, I still felt inadequate, despite the monumental effort I had made to grow these healthy babies and go through a repeat C-section to make sure they were both okay. I still felt my skin crawl when they cried and thought, What if I can't calm them down? I still turned to my husband for diaper changes because I wasn't a good enough mom for twins.

My husband reminded me (and still does) that I am exactly what my babies need. That I am enough. A phrase that has now become my mantra, both in motherhood and beyond, because as my husband likes to say, I'm the queen of selling myself short on everything.

So when my babies start crying, I tell myself that I am enough to calm them down.

When my toddler has a tantrum, I remind myself that I am enough to get through to him.

When I go out with the three kids by myself and start sweating about everything that could go wrong (poop explosions times three), I remind myself that I am enough to handle it all, even with a little humor.


And then one day I found this bracelet. Initially, I thought how cheesy it'd be to wear a reminder like this on my wrist, but I bought it anyway because something about it was calling my name. I'm so glad I did because since day one I haven't stopped wearing it.

Every time I look down, there it is, shining back at me. I am enough.

I Am Enough bracelet 

SONTAKEY  I Am Enough Bracelet

May this Oath Bracelet be your reminder that you are perfect just the way you are. That you are enough for your children, you are enough for your friends & family, you are enough for everything that you do. You are enough, mama <3

$35

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The American Academy of Pediatrics says that newborns, especially, do not need a bath every day. While parents should make sure the diaper region of a baby is clean, until a baby learns how to crawl around and truly get messy, a daily bath is unnecessary.

So, why do we feel like kids should bathe every day?

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