You reach a point in pregnancy when you start to lose your mind and are willing to sacrifice things to the gods in order to get the damn show on the road. At least I do. It’s supposed to be that every day is joyous and filled with magic and the amazing prenatal bond of mother and baby that can never be broken.
But what really happens is that I eye the squirrels thinking, “Deities, if I sacrificed this tree rodent family for you, would you let me go into labor tonight? I’ll add in the robin on my back porch. Do we have a deal?”
There was a point in my pregnancy with Baby Woww that I was just DONE. And my friend Jamie’s preschooler grabbed my phone and took a great picture that captured it all. I love that post.
This time, our friends’ six-year-old took a wonderful shot for me. It’s more poetic, probably because he was truly tender behind the lens, wanting to capture the baby. Although I have a photo that’s more accurate–with a tampon up my nostril to stop a nosebleed and my pregnancy eczema raging–I really love this one. Thanks, Noah.