Kids grow up so fast. Is it the biggest cliche out there? I think it possibly is.
It’s a phrase we hear repeatedly. Usually, by your auntie Doreen, along with, oooh hasn’t she grown (with accompanying hair ruffle or cheek pinch). But she’s right. Scarily right. And there’s not a damn thing any of us can do about it.
The years I spent waiting for my precious bundle to arrive. The sleepless night started way before that blue line showed up. The what if it doesn’t happen, the how would I cope if I wasn’t a mum.
And then bang. All those years waiting and there she is. That 9 months that seems to drag when you’ve got swollen feet and you can’t see your foof, you wish it away and pray for the big day to come. Then, it all seems like a distance memory, that comes with an air of jealousy when you see another pregnant mummy softly cradling her bump or rubbing that bit just underneath where bubs is clearly giving her a good kicking from inside. How we crave their arrival, but for those of us that loved being pregnant it went all too quickly. The excitement of watching your bump go up and down when they had hiccups. Or the feeling of them moving around. Oh how I’d love to experience that one more time. Unfortunately, Mother Nature has decided that one is enough for me. So we move on.
Yup, that day. The one you’ve been waiting for. The big arrival. And oh good lord what on earth have I done. Sore boobs, sore bits that only feel better when you’re pouring warm water on them, and jeez if you could put off peeing for a week or two you would. The ‘mummy nappies’, tears, and general all-round bloody ‘hit by a bus’ tiredness that goes with having a newborn arrives too. You wish those day’s past. ‘I wish she’d sleep’. I can’t wait until we get through these first few weeks and she can feed more and thus (as your countless friends tell you) she’ll sleep more. Or not in my case. I can’t wait until she smiles at me. I can’t wait until I’m not feeding 10 times a night. And so it goes on. Until, that night, when she’s 7 months old and it’s the last time you’ll ever hold her against your naked boob and feed her. The last time you are the one she’s relying on for nutrients. That last time. How I wish I had that last time once more. I’d stare at her face a little bit longer. I’d remember how it feels for her to suckle. I’d remember the warmth of her against my skin (and try and forget the feeling of her chewing on my nipple with her freshly grown teeth).
I’ll never forget how fed up I was with the fact that she said daddy before mummy. I longed for her to call my name. After all, I was the one that she wanted all the time, I was the one that fed and nurtured her when daddy was at work. Who dried her tears when she fell as she learned to take her first steps. Bloody daddy. The cheek of it. And now OMFG to have just one hour of the day when she doesn’t say mummy 3,000 times a second would be a dream.
The firsts come and go, first words, first teeth, first haircut, first steps, first day at school, and countless more firsts. If you’re lucky you had the good nonce to document them. Even if it’s by a slightly shaky iPhone video with ends with a shot of your feed at you’ve forgotten to press stop. But the likelihood is, most of them have passed in a rush of everyday life. We spend so much time wishing for time we had back rather than taking a step back to enjoy the now and documenting it in your hearts and minds.
She’s 6 now. 6!!! It makes me feel sad. 6 years have flown past. I still tell my birth story to mums every week like it was yesterday. And it truly did feel like yesterday. And I’m as guilty as the rest at letting those moments fly past without savouring them.
Doing what I do I make an effort every 6 months to go out and take some ‘proper’ images of her. Ones that are printed and put on the wall. And believe me, my walls at home are full of pictures. And every year or two I employ another photographer to capture some family ones too. Just to make sure I’m in them. I know I’ll look back on this time in a few years when she’s 15 and she can’t wait to disagree with everything I have to say. She’ll only ever know how much we love and cherish her when she has her own kids.
And I will make an effort to give her more time. Just me. Whilst she still wants it. As they really do grow up so fast.
Here are a few pics of my girl in the last 6 years! If you would like to book a session, please do get in contact, either via my contact page, call me on 07876 135729 / 01491 200532 or email me via firstname.lastname@example.org.