I'm heading out the door soon to do a labor and delivery shoot. A sweet new baby is being born as we speak. She was suppose to come on Saturday, but as often happens with babies, plans changed, so she's coming right now. I'm just waiting for the call that they're getting close, and then I'm out the door. We only live about 5 minutes from the hospital so I can be there in the wink of an eye. Or more like a few winks if I time the lights just right. I'm going to try to capture the moments of a new life coming into this world.
The little bracelet.
The time on the clock just as the baby comes.
Her birth weight on the scale.
You know... the little things that added all together are a huge things.
And there's a very big chance that this new baby will come on Mimi's birthday.
And as I made sure my battery was charged up, emptied the memory cards and packed my camera bag, it hit me.
So I cried for a while.
Birthdays can do that.
Especially when you don't know anything about them. I have no stories to tell them about how long their first mama pushed or what the weather was like the day they were born. Who the doctor was. I won't be able to tell Mimi if she was born in the morning or night. And it all just hurt. All those little details that I am going to capture for someone else to savor, my children don't get to have. Little baby toes. That cry right after they are born. They way they are SO away about an hour after they are born and look all around so so big.
I'm not really sad that I missed it. I'm sad that they will miss out on the re-hashing it. All those little details that make one know where he comes from. A place of being wanted and treasured from the very first breaths of life. So much so that the details are etched in your soul.
Yes, we do have the details of their adoption stories instead, but those memories are enmeshed with pain and loss. And sometimes it's not the type of stuff to celebrate so automatically.
Her water just broke.
More birthday pics of my sweet amazing gorgeous birthday girl coming.