There is a buzz afoot in the babywearing world.
Maybe you’ve heard: the Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC), the government agency which charges itself with protecting “against unreasonable risks of injuries associated with consumer products,” intends to crack down on baby carriers. There is talk of the entire industry going under, of all baby carriers being recalled, of all baby carrier companies being shut down.
There are many, many people upset about this, and rightly so. Families are worried that their most beloved baby item will be recalled, or that they will lose access to vital equipment. Companies, many of them family-run, are worried that they will lose their shirts, along with the ability to contribute to society and the economy in a way that feels meaningful, to provide a product that is needed and beneficial. People from many walks of life who are catching this news–listening to the radio, reading the papers, seeing links on Facebook–are genuinely concerned for the safety of babies.
Several people have asked me what I intend to do about this.
The answer is very simple: I will continue to do what I do. Quietly, and without fanfare, I will continue to teach people how to meet their babies’ most basic needs by carrying them on their bodies.
The current situation is, in so many ways, a big deal. It’s a big deal economically: do we really want to force all but corporate-scale businesses out of the supposedly free market? It’s a big deal for society: industry-wide decisions like this one, in a consumer-driven economy, have gigantic social impact, and stand to influence us on a massive, threat-to-public-health scale. It’s a big deal for individual families, whose freedom to make their own decisions about their children is being threatened.
But here’s the thing: right here, in my community–and all over this crazy, misguided, adolescent country–babies are being born every single day. Babies are being born expecting, like all human babies everywhere all through time, to be held, to be cared for physically by their parents. And their mothers will need to hold them and nurse them, just like all human mothers everywhere.
But they will also need to be able to make themselves an sandwich. They will need to be able to do the work they love. They will need to care for themselves and others, while tending their babies. They will need to be able to participate in society–we now understand this to be a primary factor in preventing postpartum depression–while keeping their babies close. They will need to be able to mother their babies and to look after themselves.
You need your hands to do this. You need mobility to do this. You need a contented, settled baby to do this.
Babies are being born right now in my community, and their fathers and other-mothers and aunties and uncles and grandparents and beloved friends will need to be able to nurture and care for them. They will need to hold this precious life close to their hearts. They will need to integrate this brand-new person, this unique and perfect child, into their lives. They will need to be able to share the joy of what they love with that baby, to show him what love feels like and what it means to take joy in a hike, or a walk, or a meeting, or a visit with a friend, or a nap in the arms of someone who loves you unconditionally.
This is what it means to raise a baby.
So what will I do?
I will keep meeting with new families and showing them how to feel secure and comfortable while carrying this beautiful child they have created. I will keep helping people learn new ways of carrying their growing babies, so that they can continue to nurture their children in this much-needed way. I will keep visiting prenatal groups and talking to parents-to-be about what they can expect from this mammal baby they are about to welcome, and what this baby will expect from them (hint: it’s not so much the “feed, change diaper, place in crib, walk away” routine). I will keep on emboldening mothers to believe that their bodies will continue to meet their babies’ needs after birth, just as exquisitely as they do in pregnancy, and I will keep on explaining to their partners that their bodies, too, can and must participate in this magical continuum.
As for the slings themselves? There are so many wonderful products on the market, and their increasing availability in the last decade or so has driven the mainstreaming of this kind of baby care in an invaluable way. As a babywearing educator, it means a lot to me to be able to point families toward a whole range of great options that make caring for their babies easier. Access to these products has changed the way a lot of people think about baby care in general. Local availability of these products in my community, thanks to forward-thinking businesses, has made carried children gloriously ubiquitous. I value these products, and it is my fervent wish that they be preserved and protected.
If baby carriers truly were pulled from the market, it would be an abject travesty, and an insult to families. It would be a colossal loss for all sorts of businesses that contribute to society and economy in important and valuable ways. There are a lot of good people out there–industry leaders, activists, politicians, parents, advocates–who are fighting this wrongheaded movement, and I commend and thank them. Their work is crucial and well-placed, and they have my full support.
But, in answer to those who would ask me, What will you do?
I will just keep on keeping on. Because my passion is for babies and families, and there plenty of those who need what I can offer right now, today. We will find a way. We will find all sorts of ways.