Ah! Another post! In the same week! WHAT IS GOING ON?
We are at the end of our first year as parents and, naturally, I wanted to reminisce. So Mark and I started looking through all of the photos we’ve taken of our littlest family member. And we had tons of him. Just him.
And my heart broke. Where are photos of me gazing lovingly at Otis? Where are the pictures of the three of us together? Of us feeding him or helping him walk? How on earth is Otis going to know that he had actual parents if we aren’t in the pictures?!
Thing I’ve Learned #2: It’s ok if there aren’t that many photos of you with your baby.
Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
First, here’s why I want to have more photos of me as a mom:
Have you seen the movie The Family Stone? It’s the saddest, most emotional Christmas movie ever. Ever.
And this picture? It’s Diane Keaton’s character pregnant. In the movie Diane Keaton has like 5 kids and she is dying and her kids love her and everyone knows this is her last Christmas…
Excuse me. I need a tissue.
Sarah Jessica Parker’s character is marrying into this family and she’s terribly awkward and doesn’t fit in and simply doesn’t know how to let her freak flag fly. But she makes the movie when she gives each of the family members an enlarged photo of their young, beautiful and pregnant mother.
So at the end that’s all I want a photo of me “being a mom” for. So that one day when I’m celebrating my last Christmas my horribly awkward daughter-in-law can give everyone a picture to remind them that mom was really happy and beautiful being their mom.
But other than that? I’m good with only having a handful of photos of me “being a mom”. Because I’m remembering a few things:
These pictures of Otis are for Otis. They are telling Otis’s story, not my story of raising Otis. That’s what my blog is for, duh.
Also, the pictures that I have are what I saw each day. Instead of looking at them as pictures that don’t have me (or Mark) in them they are pictures from my perspective. I get to re-see the smiling face, the mad baby in the bathtub, and the fat arms that give the best hugs ever.
More importantly, without photographic evidence I can tell my grandkids that I was back in my pre-baby jeans before I left the hospital. Ha!
Don’t freak out about not having pictures of you and baby. Do freak out about not being present to ever memory as it’s being made.
Just a note: I am beyond thankful that Phindy captured such beautiful images of my pregnancy so I can just point my future daughter-in-law in their direction when Christmas time comes (it should also be noted that Phindy has multiplied!)