I'm a big fan of pictures. If you know me at all, you know this about me. I value photographs. I love capturing slices of life: an expression, a light in the eyes, an unguarded moment. It's a way to imbue the mundane with meaning, to find beauty in the smallest things. Thats why it's disheartening that I don't have good photos of Gwendolyn.
Let me clarify: I am SO thankful to even have photos. I know many Hope Moms do not. Blair had had the presence of mind to bring the camera along, and I am grateful that I can scroll through my computer photo storage and see her sweet face. But sometimes photos are full of heaviness, and I can't see past the details: the progression of her body swelling, the bruising becoming apparent, the blood that wasn't wiped away. I'm becoming better at editing my photos, but I can't erase those details. The truth is that I don't fully know what she would look like without them. I didn't see her face without medical tape on it until it was cold, two breaths away from Heaven.
...
I've sat here for awhile, looking through the photos I have: pregnant, SO unaware of what God would rock us with; hopeful laboring; shocked grief. I wish I had one to share with you. (I wish I had one to share with me!)
I wonder if one day when I hold her and snap the family photo that I've longed for, that I'll be able to complete this story?
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