Honestly, when we first got these shots back from our photographer (Lesley Mason Photography), I didn't appreciate them. It wasn't the photographer's fault at all; it was just that the photo session (and, um, that entire postpartum period) was torturous for me. We had to squeeze the session in between a lactation consultation and a pediatrician appointment, which turned out to be way more than my two-week-post-C-section-self was able to manage. Think: excessive pain, exhaustion, and bleeding. Feeding Rowan still took upwards of an hour at that point, and it was anything but photogenic (picture me sweating and crying while Rowan fussed at the breast, and then J.J. hovering over me as he held a tube that snaked down my chest into Rowan's mouth, and then me nodding off while pumping). Oh, and I tried to trim her nails for the first time that morning, and I had basically sliced the tip of her finger off (at least, that's what it felt like), so I felt like an all-around shitty parent. AND I felt like I looked like shit, too - still swollen and bruised and deliriously tired and unable to figure out what clothes fit me. Yeah. Not my finest hour.
These two, though...
And looking at these shots three years later, with the perspective of time and knowing now who Rowan actually is...oh, my sweet little baby.
{newborn} |
{first birthday} |
{second birthday} |
{third birthday} |
One of my other favorite photos from the newborn session was this one, where she's all burritoed up and perched on our piano (yes, with spotters nearby, and she only rolled off a couple times. KIDDING). Rowan saw this one while I was lost in my nostalgia-fest last fall, and she loved it, too: "Aww, that's so cuuute!"
So, naturally (?), I decided we'd recreate the shot, using the same swaddle blanket and flower headband...just three years later. (And with a different wall color, natch.)
I love comparing the two shots above just because it's so crazy to see how huge she is now, and how she still looks the same, even though I've insisted forever that she looks nothing like she did as a baby.
Of course she does. It was my girl all along.
Looking at all those squishy little baby pictures makes me beyond excited to see what our new babe is going to look like. Rowan looked nothing like I imagined when she was born. I thought she'd be scrawny, fair, and bald, not chipmunk-cheeked and olive-skinned with a head full of almost-black hair. So I know better than to have any expectations about what her baby brother will look like. What I do expect, though, is that before I know it, he'll go from being an unknown in my belly...
...to being another love of my life, a person, someone with likes and hates and strengths and opinions and a personality all his own.
Before I know it.
Just like his sister.