I can’t be the only woman that had a mental picture of the way I would look with children. For some reason, I always knew that I would be a mother. It was something I wanted for as long as I could remember. I guess when you think about something for so long it’s only natural that certain fantasies develop. Mine always seemed to involve sashaying around town wearing my baby. Hands free. Multitasking. Glamorous.
Damn you, media.
Seriously – I blame the media. There’s always one spread or another showing a gorgeous celebrity post-birth: skinny, giggling, holding coffee, and wearing her baby. How hard could it be? I would definitely be getting one of those wraps and wearing my baby, too.
I decided on the Moby, because it seemed to be the most popular and had a ton of positive reviews on Amazon. Also, it looked comfortable. I registered for it and was thrilled when it was one of the first items to arrive. I would have time to practice wrapping it and would be a pro by the time there was finally a baby to put in it.
I flippantly pulled the wrap out of its container. It was packed like a mini sleeping bag. I began to roll it out of its casing, and to my utter confusion and horror it stretched out to my bedroom door, through my kitchen and almost made it through my living room, too. To be fair, I lived in a floor-through apartment in Brooklyn at the time – but it was actually pretty big for city standards. There must have been 20 yards of fabric in this thing. How in the hell was I supposed to get all of this around my body? There should be a warning on this thing – “only attempt if you can make an origami swan with one hand.”
I brushed off the initial horror of the sheer amount of fabric that was in front of me. I figured, it’s the most popular wrap out there. If everyone else can do it – so can I damn it! I began looking at the Moby wrap instructions.
You know how Ikea has those weird instructions with no words that sort of make you feel like a monkey should be able to assemble your armoire – and three hours later you’re sweating and crying? Well, these instructions aren’t that bad. They’re so simple they sort of mock you. Yes, that’s how I felt. The smiling women on the simple instructions for the Moby wrap that I should be maternally pre-disposed to make work on my body were totally mocking me. The teddy bear I was using to take the place of my “infant” looked sad. Probably because he was hanging upside down by one foot. I decided if I was going to make this happen – I needed more help. Google would fix this – it fixes everything else in my life.