After my charge left with her mum at 1pm, I bundled Rye up and we ventured forth into town. Rye conveniently wanted to be pushed in the buggy, ideal because the weather was forecast to be snowy/sleet this afternoon and I needed to do some shopping and those buggy handles would be handy for bags.
There are practical reasons for my dislike of buggys; pain on the bus, in shops with narrow aisles etc, mostly though I hate the disconnectedness. Rye is sat out in front, and all I can see is his knees, even with the hood pushed back. I have no idea what he's looking at, it's near impossible to share sudden thoughts, sights, giggles etc. In some ways it's similar when he's on my back - at least we have the physcial closeness though, and the feel of little arms cuddled around me is out of this world. I can hear him too, whereas I can't when he's in the buggy unless I stop and go round to the front of it so I can see him and it is easier to share what I can see with him when he's on my back - not least because his at my eyeline height, well, more or less.
Buggys just seem to be a metaphor for a less connected parenting that is favoured today.
Interestingly, once home Rye wanted lots of cuddles and finally settled sat next to me on the sofa, with my arms around him and his head laid against my arm as he dozed. I think like me, after a few hours of the buggy separation, he needed to feel close and attached again.
I am really sad that my babywearing journey is coming to an end, it's been such a wonderful journey. I don't think its a stretch to say babywearing saved my AP tendencies. Rye was so demanding when he was a newborn and I struggled so desperately, cried and wished I'd never had him, we had major problems with breastfeeding and no support around me except for my ex whose answer to everything was to give formula and leave the baby to cry. I didn't want to, the first 24 hours when I'd been so awkstruck by this little bundle was still there, even weeks in of sleeping upright in a chair with a little baby on my chest, is what I think saved me from crashing straight into PND, even in my most desperate moments when I had to leave the room because I had reached the point if I stayed I would have hurt him.... then I began to wear him, I also began to cosleep and the combination saved our relationship.
To remember those painful first weeks/months brings tears, thankfully the babywearing meant he slept and being close to him, cuddling him... well, how could I not love him and bond - he was there in my arms, sweet, delicious and so tiny, yet amazing. Babywearing has become a symbol of Rye's and mine journey in attached parenting, in learning to meet our needs peacefully (still learning this bit lol), and with respect and with joy.
This wasn't the post I planned to write, it seems to be the one I needed to write though.