I forgot how working on a baby book helps me to really soak in the moment, these fleeting days of childhood in our house.  I think this is the only complaint I have ever really had about the photography business- I hate that it competes with my time to work on my own babies' memories.  I feel like I'm missing the moment because I live it and it's gone... no savoring, no pausing, no sighing, no breathing it in and out.  It's over.  Keep running.

I'm working on Jack's baby book since I am through with shoots till January.  I can't tell you how I am enjoying it.  It makes me cry and smile all at once.

All the details flood back so vividly; what he smelled like, what his skin felt like... the soft fuzz and the scent of eternity.

I can't believe we're about to do it all again.

I remember sitting there in the hospital when everyone else had gone home- even Shaun, to change and shower.  I remember thinking, even whispering, "I am so glad we did this again."  And the thought crossed my mind- is this really the last time I'll ever sit here in this unreal moment?  And if so- how do I soak it up enough that it stays with me always? 

And so, that's what I'm still working on now... another baby may come, but that doesn't replace what's already been.  Each one so unique, so sacred.  I'm soaking it up and letting it have its bittersweet way with me.  I wouldn't trade that humid July 3rd night for all the world.  I wouldn't trade tonight- reliving him- for all the world. 

But I wouldn't go back, either.  I like who he is today too much to leave. 

Labels: baby, birthdays, bittersweet, parenthood, parenting, photography, pics, pictures