I came upon this picture in the Bean’s birth post that the OA had written (!) on the old blog and it made me all teary. I don’t come from a family given to photography (so I overcompensate!) and this is one of the few pictures my mother is in, even partially. We have no family wedding pictures and the only reason they have one with my brother is because my SIL’s family got a photographer who hounded them!
Anyhow – this is the Bean, straight out of the OT and a very weak me, clutching at my daughter because I can’t believe she’s for real, that I’ve actually got the daughter I craved so badly. Even today I smile at her in an utterly foolish, besotted way because I can’t believe one of my dreams made it to reality.
Feisty, funny and utterly feminine, she reminds me of my mother in so many ways. And yet in so many ways she’s not my mother, but like my grandmother – the petite structure, the oval face with a stubborn, sharp chin, the big eyes, the soft wavy hair.
I particularly like it because although I am the bridge generation, I was really weak after the surgery and as I struggled to touch my dream, scared it would vanish into thin air, my mother’s warm, strong, comforting hand reached out and joined both our hands, not coming between us, but giving us the strength we needed. And from the other side two tiny little greedy hands grabbed hold of my finger and we were joined forever in a bond no one can take away from us. It is a moment that might have been lost in time and space if it weren’t for the OA clicking pictures (rather unusually) and now it’s a moment I’ll get to revisit over and over again… capturing three very determined, loving and strong willed women holding hands – bound by blood, fate and nature. A force to be reckoned with and never to be messed with!!
Also – a lot of people want to read my archives, but I’m too lazy to move them yet. So I’m going to be pulling out old posts once in a while and I hope all of you will de-lurk and say hi if you once read them!
PS: And I was most pissed that they chopped my nails and removed my nailpolish! Can’t believe how much it enraged me at that point – and yet, the way it was done, was rather dehumanising..