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June 18, 2012
Every day when I go to wake her in the morning and tuck her in at night, I get to remember one of the most magical days in our family...the day she came into our lives. Each image in this display was selected for its own special memory:
- Wow! I can't believe how big my belly had gotten!
- My husband's hands were so strong and supportive.
- Look at the grins on my boys faces seeing their baby sister for the first time!
- I remember leaning in close to breathe her in. She was so warm!
- Her hair! I couldn't believe she had all of that hair!!!
To this day, I have watched the video footage from her birth probably twice, but in the three years since her birth, I've watched the incredibly beautiful and moving slideshow of her birth countless times. Countless. I know I am *very* lucky to have this event recorded in such a timeless, personal, tasteful manner.
If someone came up to me today and said, "I'll give you a million dollars if you destroy all of the photos from her birth," I guarantee you I would turn them down. If someone said, "Okay then, for a million dollars, I can turn back time so you could have non-blurry photos of the births of your first two children," well--you know what? I would seriously try to figure out a way to make that happen.
Because I have forgotten. The births of my children are the three single-most monumental days of my life--they changed who I am as a being--and yet I have to fight very hard to force my brain to remember them. Nature's way, I suppose, but I don't want to forget. I truly don't. I'm not stuck in the past nor am I trying to relive it...I just want to...I just want to relish it.
I can promise you that looking pretty for the camera was the last thing on my mind that day. I can promise you I wasn't wearing make up. I can promise you that when I was lost in laborland, I had no idea who was in the room with me.
Tell me if you see anything "gross" in the images above. Call me one of those "crazies." Refer to me as a "diva." Really? I think not. You know what? The birth of a child is not gross. I'm a loving mom and I run my own business--clearly I'm not crazy. And frankly, I'm no more a diva than a bride who wants pictures on her wedding day.