February 9, 2016
I document. I provide evidence that we are here. That I am here. That this is what my kid looks like on February 9th. 2016. And if I don't document, how can I possibly remember everything? I would never be able to remember this particular bath. This particular day. And that is like a giant black hole of how do I make sense of this life, this planet?
I've been obsessively looking at birth photos on Instagram. I am most intrigued by the mamas' faces while in labor, while pushing. And I am extremely moved by their faces at that moment when baby is out and they are rejoicing and feeling the biggest feeling of relief they have ever felt in their whole entire lives. At least that is how I imagine they are feeling. With Lavi, I did labor for a long time, but I didn't get to push him out and I will always be curious about what that is like, especially curious about what it is like to finally push my baby out, that moment of triumph and relief and baby laying on my tummy. I always wanted that moment, I still have dreams where I am giving birth that way. I never feel any of the pain in these dreams, just that feeling of I'm doing it! I'm doing it! I can totally do it! In real life, I did do a great job. And I am happy with the way things turned out. I always say, healthy mama, healthy baby. But I still wonder. I still want to do it.