9 months in, 9 months out
My baby turned nine months last week.
I found out I was pregnant with him on a Friday morning in early November.
I didn't take many bump pictures this pregnancy. I always feel a little vain getting my husband to take my picture. But you know those maternity photos you see all over Pinterest? Queen Mom with a flower crown and a flowing dress and a glorious pregnant belly? Next time I am pregnant, I am getting some of those. I know they're cliché and overdone at this point, but I don't care. I love them.
I know every woman has a different experience being pregnant, but I really love it. I've been really lucky to have two easy pregnancies. The whole time I am in awe of the human body. And life. It really is a miracle.
Also, let's talk about how convenient a bump seat is.
8 months after I found out I was pregnant, on a Friday morning, my second son was born.
I was smitten then, and am smitten now.
He's now been out of my belly for as long as he was in it, somehow. This second baby thing, it's flashing by like lightening. Too fast to catch. I feel like I'm always chasing the flashes, trying to capture the illumination they give to my world. Trying to capture the energy they pass on to whatever they touch. Always chasing.
I'll look back someday and my baby will be grown, all that's left of his babyhood memories, like a time-lapse of a thunderstorm. Flash. Pregnancy. Flash. Birth. Flash. First smile. Flash. Crawling. Flash. Nine months old. Flash flash flash. A distant echo of thunder, a memory of light. The energy passed on to new exhausted parents and new tiny people.
My object in taking pictures is the same as my object in writing. To tell a story. To capture a feeling. I hope that through these pictures and words I've been able to capture a flash of the light this boy brings to my world. And I hope that my love for this little boy will flash bright as lightening, let loose on a cloudy night.
Happy Nine Months, my sweet, curious, smiley baby boy.