Eventually, that mama would make me a gorgeous Mei Tai for the little one. It's beautiful, and much more comfortable than my makeshift sling. My little rebozo is so special, though. It connected me to a primal mother energy as much as it drew me into my new daughter. It was a little coccoon for my small one. I miss wearing the baby. She won't tolerate it now, although she's certainly light enough to carry comfortably.
Call this post a second installment of the Ovulation Chronicles- those crazy three or four days a month when the resolve to parent an only child dissolves into dreams of pumpkin belly, joking attempts to talk Bu into unprotected sex, and waxing nostalgic for newborns in little shawl carriers:)
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