A Mother’s Day Gift from a Soon-To-Be Mom
by Lauren Kay Weber
So, first things first, lest you have a mild heart attack whilst reading this post… my mom does not read my blog. She’s not too technically savvy, you see. A couple of years ago, I talked her into getting an iPhone, which I thought was a huge step up until I started receiving text messages that written like letters, beginning with Dear Lauren, and ending with Love, Mother. I’ve talked to her several times about the difference between a text and an email, but I gotta say that she has a point in that when both parties have an iPhone, it doesn’t really matter how long the text message is.
But I digress.
With Asher’s birth impending, Josh and I are on a bit of a budget. So, I decided to go for the sentimentality jugular when it came to this year’s Mother’s Day present for my own mother. I have exactly one picture of my mom taken while she was pregnant. My whole life, I was kind of miffed that she didn’t ham it up during her pregnancy with me. It felt like she was ashamed, somehow, of having me inside of her. And, oh boy, did karma play an evil trick on me. Now I get it… Oh ho ho, I. Get. It. You see, lately, in the midst of all of the things that I haven’t wanted to do – and there are lots – the number 1 item on my Absolutely-Not-To-Do List has been having pictures taken of me.
When I say that I get it, I mean that I truly do get it. It’s not that I don’t want Asher to have pictures of me… errr, with us, I guess. It’s just that pregnancy feels a bit like a hostile takeover. The best I can describe it is like this: At first, being pregnant was this miracle. And, it still is… when it doesn’t feel like an alien has taken up residence in my abdomen. I never feel more like this is the case than when I first wake up in the morning, sit down to breakfast (almost forgetting that there’s something else other than me alive in me) and then I get a swift punch to the gut. Don’t get me wrong, I do a lot of waxing poetic about how amazing and surreal it is to be pregnant – especially when I’m lounging on the couch with my husband and he has his hand on my stomach and Asher is swishing around in there – but a quick jab to the kidneys is the other, perhaps less rosy, swing of that pendulum. So, then feeling like my body is not my own and my torso has morphed into a huge, bulbous pear, the last thing I’m going for is to have a photo shoot. Am I crazy?
Again, I digress.
Back to Mother’s Day and this one picture I have of my mom. I decided that I was going to recreate that one picture à la Irina Werning, frame it all pretty-like and pack it off to new Grandma-to-be, Savta Kay (savta is Hebrew for ‘grandmother’). So, out we went to find a tree and take the picture. You can see the images below… including how much I don’t really look like my mom.