In September 2005, I discovered the joy that is flickr. I quickly began to move photos to flickr as it provided easier sharing along with a built in community. I knew that I loved photography and, at that time, was also desperately craving community.
You see, in 2005 I was expecting BigBrother. I had no real local friends, just a few co-workers who I occasionally hung out with after work. But no one local to call on a Tuesday afternoon. No one to cry on. I was very alone… minus my husband, of course.
I look at the first picture I moved to flickr, my pregnancy photos being the first to make the move, and I see so many things.
I see my 7 week pregnant non-belly and am filled with jealousy. I was even bloated then, staying in a hotel with my husband while he went through some fire schooling stuff, thus gorging on local restaurant food including, but not limited to, deep-fried pickles at Hooters. I was a walking pregnant cliche.
I see my engagement ring — which doesn’t fit now.
I see a bracelet that Dee had given me after the Munchkin was born; I don’t wear bracelets now.
I see pregnancy books on the nightstand. I purchased them that week while FireDad was in classes. One scared me out of my mind. One was helpful. I didn’t read the third. And neither BigBrother nor LittleBrother’s name came from the baby name book.
I see the backpack I had in college… which I still have today.
I see hair that is, for the first time since that photo was taken, shorter than the hair on my head now. Also, I see less gray.
I see a woman — a mother — desperately wanting to celebrate the normalcy of pregnancy since she didn’t — couldn’t — the first time around.
I see a woman — a mother — desperately afraid of what lies ahead. For as much as that microscopic baby was wanted and planned for, the unknown of health problems and pregnancy loomed, mixed with memories of what came before. As much as she wants to love and celebrate, she is holding herself back from becoming attached, from expecting too much because she fears it can all be taken away.
And I see the beginning of the little boy who would change my world in ways I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. I thought I understood then, that I already knew what being a mother was all about. I did; I understood certain aspects more than most “first-time moms.” But I also had absolutely no clue. For that, I am glad.
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I look through those bunch of photos that I uploaded on September 16, 2005 and I smile. I am not the same girl that I was then. In those photos, I am not the same girl that I had been two years prior. I look and see bits of time, pieces of a girl, that shaped the woman, mother, wife, friend, writer and photographer I am today. I may not look like that girl, but I am proud to be this woman.
Check out what others are sharing about their #firstflickrphoto.
