Hungry, little mouth.
Rooting, searching, frantic.
Diving in to me.
Familiar, sweet breath.
Latching, swallowing, rhythmic.
Drawing in my milk.
Soft, curled body.
Fitting, nuzzling, hypnotic.
Dreaming in my arms.
I wear my baby in a sling.
For travelling it’s our favourite thing,
From buses and trains to stairs and shops,
Babywearing means we don’t have to stop.
I wear my baby in a wrap,
It’s perfect when little one needs a nap.
So whether out and about or cooking the dinner,
Babe’s sound asleep and I’m onto a winner.
I wear my baby when we’re out walking,
No wheels or handles? Now we’re talking!
Rough roads, cobble stones or through a tight squeeze,
Wearing my baby means we manage with ease.
I wear my baby on my back,
There’s so many ways, I can hardly keep track.
Short wraps and long ones, buckles and rings,
Spots, stripes and patterns, what versatile things.
I wear my baby in the rain,
Pushing a buggy with a brolly’s just such a pain.
It’s easy to keep us both lovely and dry,
When baby’s wrapped cosy and carried up high.
I wear my baby so when she needs nursed,
A slight adjustment means she can quench her own thirst.
Feeding baby’s a doddle when you’re all that they need,
Wherever you are, your baby can feed.
I wear my baby and I’m proud,
To be part of a global babywearing crowd.
We wear our babies, ‘cos it’s where they feel safe.
I wear my baby because you see,
It’s really where they’re supposed to be.
As old as time, it’s not one of those ‘fads’
And who doesn’t love to see babywearing Dads!.
I wear my baby ‘cos she loves to be sung,
And I love it too, it’s like wearing a hug.
I know in the future that I’ll dearly miss,
When I wore her close, close enough to kiss.
Breastfeeding is so much more than milk,
Warm and sweet and flowing like silk.
Each drop is pure, love wrapped up in a hug,
So whether human, calf, kitten or cub,
Every baby needs to feed from it’s mother,
And she, in turn, needs them like no other.
It’s more than convenient, free and delicious.
It’s adaptive, protective and uniquely nutritious.
It’s more than ingredients in a list.
The truth is ‘not breastfeeding’ carries a risk!
The intricate secrets of our own liquid gold,
Are only just beginning to truly unfold.
It’s more than just some fancy words.
It’s more than the ‘benefits’ that you’ve heard.
It’s got Human Growth Hormone and IQ enhancers,
Super stem cells and cells that fight cancer.
But it’s ALL and so much more than these,
It’s a mothers love; given freely and taken with ease.
It’s not just about hunger or about thirst,
For a soul is fed too when a baby is nursed.
Within this act of instinctual, maternal emotion,
Is an expression of love, of trust and devotion.
All babies are born expecting their comfort and rest,
Be found in mother’s arms and at mother’s breast.
It’s more than we know and more than we think.
Breastmilk’s not just a food, it’s not only a drink.
It’s the building blocks of life that’s new.
It’s a bond, a connection, it’s relationship glue.
It’s the power to heal a hurt or a tantrum to tame.
The power to calm the mind and soothe away pain.
Breastfeeding is so much more than the sum of its parts,
It will nurture and nourish you both and tug at your hearts.
(a ‘Lullabooby’ for mothers who nurse their babies to sleep)
Softly…. quietly….. gently we begin,
Your mouth opens wide, I soon hear you swallow,
You’re drifting to dreamland, I’m tempted to follow.
Blissfully we sit, wrapped up in each other,
Connected, in sync; baby and mother.
Your eyelids hang heavy, each blink longer and longer,
Breastfeeding helps keep our bond growing stronger.
At nap-times and night-times, I nurse you to sleep,
Mother Nature’s own recipe, for sleep, peaceful and deep.
I lose track of time and of my thoughts sometimes too,
Mulling over the day, listing what’s left to do.
Your breathing grows softer, your hands lose their grip,
Contentment, your expression, as out from under you I slip.
Your beauty is multiplied by stillness and shadow,
My mind takes a snapshot, such perfection is hallowed.
I whisper ” I love you”, touch my lips to your forehead,
Our sleepy-time ritual, no tantrums or tears shed.
You’re alone only briefly, I’m back with you soon,
Together we sleep, dreaming under one moon.
Soothed by security, it’s goodnight, sleep tight,
You hold no anxiety for darkness or night,
I’m there when you need me, you nurse when you may,
Until sun through the curtains melts the night into day.
(Please feel free to share your own feelings or memories of nursing your little ones to sleep in the comments below).
A Mama’s Promise
For my Nevada Angel.
I kept you within till you journeyed earthside, then held you, smelled you and squeezed you with pride.
So perfectly formed, so special and small and what I was doing I didn’t know at all.
Looking back I can see how much we’ve both grown, these fourteen months have really flown.
I’ve been your mama and I’ve learned how, to be, when you needed me, in the here and now.
And I’ve fed you baby, at my breast
and carried you close against my chest.
You’ve taught me patience and given me strength. I didn’t think I could do it but we’ve gotten this length.
Look at you now with your pink shoes on, running this way and that from the break of dawn.
So quick to tears, so quick to laugh, you’ll lead anyone willing up the garden path!
I’ve watched proudly as you’ve mastered each new skill, kissed away your tears after each stumble and spill.
And I’ve fed you baby, at my breast
and carried you warm against my chest.
Each moment you nurse now, sprawled in my lap, my love flows with my milk, unconditional, on tap.
Your eyes gaze up, trusting completely. A smile creeps across and milk dribbles discretely.
I’ll be your mama, even when you are grown and from this sweet, safe nest you’ll have up and flown.
But for so long as you choose, I’ll be right here, with arms and heart open so you needn’t fear…
…cos I’ll feed you baby, at my breast
and carry you wrapped against my chest.
An Edible Pact.
Breastfeeding is normal, nature designed babies to eat,
Curled up at our breasts, listening to our hearts beat.
And the magic in this loving and wondrous act,
is a bond so incredible, an edible pact.
We’ve captured its beauty in all manner of ways
We’ve posed for oil paintings, for sculptures, for days,
From cave drawings to pyramids, babes from all times and places,
Are shown just where they should be with boobs in their faces!
Today breastfeeding is celebrated by those who can and who choose,
To feed their own babies, (how did that make the news?)
We take precious photos, upload to blogs or to twitter,
But if we share them on Facebook, we’re left feeling bitter.
Facebook have shunned them. Their beauty forbidden,
Their twisted policy states that our nipples be hidden.
“Breastfeeding’s permitted” it concedes but what’s written
Leaves mothers nursing their wounds without having been bitten.
Breastfeeding is normal, its just what we do.
So keep sharing your pictures and I’ll take some too,
Until boobs feeding babies is so common a sight,
That no-one will notice and all will be right.
xxxx (.)(.) xxxx