May 17: A favorite photo of yourself and why.
I love when the prompt has to do with photos. I have a bunch of photos of myself that I love. Mostly because
I’m totally narcissistic I have a bunch of friends who take great pictures. And I love looking at those pictures and reliving the moment.
One photo jumped to mind when I read the prompt for today. And I know I’ve shared it with you in the past, but this is my defining moment in life. Captured on film. I’m lucky I have this photo.
To the naked eye, this is a picture of a mother holding her newborn baby for the first time. Which it is. But there is so much more to it. This is the moment my world changed. This is the moment I realized I could do anything. This is the moment I was able to breathe again after eleven months. This is the moment.
A lot of things happen when you lose a baby. Nearly all of it bad or terrible or heart breaking. You lose something inside of you. I’m not sure what to call it exactly. Part of your heart for sure, but part of your hopes, part of your soul, part of your life. And although it has been nearly 2 years, I am still not healed. Not even close. I’m a million times better, for sure.
While I was pregnant with Avery, I had a hard time enjoying it. I was just holding my breath. Waiting for It to happen. Every time the doctor sent us out the door with a “perfect” visit. I couldn’t breathe. Every healthy ultrasound. I couldn’t breathe. Hearing her heartbeat every week. Every step along the way. I was just waiting. Bracing myself for It. The farther along in my pregnancy, the harder it was. Not all the time, but sometimes. What would I do if something went wrong? I tried not to think of it… Her placenta was attached in the front of my uterus (I can’t remember the technical terms). So it was cushioning her movements. Which didn’t help me relax either. How long has it been since she has moved? I went to the doctor in a paranoid state more than once. I don’t think anyone could blame me. I was relieved when I was put on bed-rest. I had 2 doctor appointments per week after that. Some people might not have liked that. But I needed those check ins.
Difficult end of labor. Baby born. Baby cries. My heart swells. They give her to me. The weight of her little 6 pounds 15 ounces allows me to let go of the 100 tons that had been holding me down. That newly born girl saved me. And I have the picture to prove it.