My mum has this thing about three. She wanted to have three children, all three years apart. (Of course that worked magically for her.) And every three years we have our pictures taken. First me, then me and my sister, and then the whole gaggle together, growing, and changing, and becoming old. We had one taken together the year of our wedding - a bride and her maids. Three years later we were scattered to the corners of the earth, and the set was made up of individual shots, each themed according to where our lives had lead us. My sister was graduating. My youngest sister had grown from an adolescent into a glamorous and self-assured young woman. And I? I was taking high tea at the Ritz in London. Life was good. And I was looking forward to the next picture, because in it I'd be pregnant, or nursing my baby. That was four years ago.
Over the last year, my mother has hinted, then requested, then begged and pleaded, and has finally, in view of my imminent flight* to Singapore, resorted to the maternal guilt trip. And I keep promising we'll get that photo done, and explaining how difficult it is to find a time when everyone's free. Lying, in other words, about the reasons behind my hesitation.
Because when I see that photo, Infertile Bea will be staring back. For decades to come. Immortilised on the wall, and later in my mother's photo album. I guess I was hoping to sweep this whole thing under the carpet. I guess I was hoping to move on and forget, leaving no record. But that won't be - the appointment is this Saturday.
I suppose my mum will like the photo despite it all. Maybe I can learn to live with it, too.
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*As in, I am soon going to flee to Singapore, not as in my plane flight, which I'm not even close to setting a date for, let alone booking.
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Sweeping it under the carpet, picture or no picture, it can't be done. If only!
DH & I, have had our photo taken with Santa, since our first christmas together. First it was just something corny, then it became a tradition. I suppose people think it's funny, 2 twenty somethings getting a Santa photo. For the last 2 yrs(since we started our AC journey), Santa has asked us what we wanted for christmas. I answer the same thing each year. He's a nice old man. We go to the same one each year, but I doubt he would remember us. Each year he answers the same thing. "Santa will do his best".
OK, this is all off topic, but what I'm trying to say, is your mum has a tradition with the photos. Infertile Bea may be going to stare back at you in the photo, but your IF is apart of you. No matter how hard you try, you can't sweep it under the carpet.
Sorry Bea. I sound like a uneducated know it all.
If you don't want to have the photo, your mum should be able to understand why.
I'm rambling now. I'll go back in my box.
Being in pictures does that to me too.
*HUG*
Mothers always get what they want. Don't they ?
Something to look forward to, when we become mothers that is.
I have a big butt. I refer to it as the twins. These cheeks have become a bit of a joke. When the first IVF failed, I joked that at least I still had the twins. when photos are taken, I joke 'are the twins in the picture?'. No matter how much weight I gain or lose, the twins remain the same.
No matter how many years go by, you will be you. Your mom, although probably hoping for a grandchild, will always be happy just to have you. That's how moms are. And maybe someday, you'll look back at that picture and say 'that was right before I got big and fat and pregnant. I'm glad that picture got taken before I was such a mess'~
Bea,
thanks for stopping by my blog, and thanks for letting me stop by your's. I am sorry that you are going through IF, and I know about the "family picture" , I still let my mom take it but somehow it always makes me sad to look at it. However, I know it makes HER happy and for that I am thankful and grateful I still have her in my life (even if she does drive me a bit batty at times)
This was such a beautiful post. It really made me pause. And think about old pictures. And how I looked. And I've thought of this before, but you just said it so beautifully.
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