February 19, 2018
The Sling Diaries, Volume VII. A photo-documentary chronicling the art of baby wearing in the lives of families around the world. Over the course of six months, Sling Diarists will create their own Sling Diary though a series of diary entries interpreting a unique theme given to them each month.
Meet all of our Sling Diarists here.
I’m having so much trouble with this entry because what is there to say about love that hasn’t been said before. It’s like the monstera deliciosa plant of affections, it’s been done. It’s beautiful it’s amazing, it hurts it’s heartbreaking.
Everything I’ve thought to write about is something I’ve either read before or have definitely seen in a movie. Even love specific to me, the love I have for my children, the love of my partner, the love that is undying that is true that is the hard times that is the good times, the love you will fight for until you die...is the love a million other women speak of.
So I will tell you a story instead. A love story. The day I gave birth to our daughter Emma, my partner Steve watched me cry in pain, he sat next to me on a hospital bed, he rubbed my back. And when the pain became too great for me to bare and i was screaming for the drugs that would never make it in time, a seasoned ob nurse showed him how to dance with me in his arms.
He took me in his arms and danced me back and forth and reminded me to breathe and held me up when I thought my legs would fall out from under me and watched my water break at his feet and held my head while I pushed our daughter into this world. A few months later he said to me “do you remember when you were giving birth to Emma, and I was rocking you, and we weren’t three people anymore, we were one”.
That is what comes to mind when I think of love.
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