Lately my life has revolved around a man I have yet to meet, my son. I am currently 34 weeks pregnant, my official due date is January 11, 2016. I’ve spent the last 8 months preparing for his arrival in one way or another. I’ve contemplated his name; attended childbirth classes so I am educated enough to make informed decisions; enlisted the help and expertise of an excellent doula; unearthed boxes of my old Brio trains and baby books buried in storage for the last 20+ years; prepared his nursery and drafted an absurdly long 50 item long list of things I intend to pack in my delivery bag. I’ve also inadvertently purchased my son and my husband matching navy, black and gray wardrobes.
All the while this little man has been growing and growing which has been a strange and interesting experience. I think all women have a general idea of what to expect when pregnant, but even with that knowledge every single thing about this pregnancy has surprised me. From feeling him move, to how heavy he is, to the fatigue I feel, to the extent of my new physical limitations. I’ve been taken aback by each and every new pregnancy experience, maybe because it feels very surreal. I also didn’t expect to turn into a cliché pregnant woman, but I have. With one exception; I have not been visually documenting this pregnancy.
A while back I was persuaded to take a bump photo for out of town friends. Thanks to a tripod and wireless remote a single photo exists so far to document this belly (if you subscribe to my newsletter you saw it a few weeks ago). I find posed maternity photos awkward, but I know I would regret not taking a few really lovely ones at some point. In the meantime the photos I have to share are glimpses of his nursery.
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