It's Spring, which means I'm crazy

I know that last post was a bit ominous, but it's hard to be open and selective while blogging, even if you only have a few handfuls of readers.
On that note...springtime is so here, the weather is beautiful almost everyday, I'm back in the swing of running, walking with some girlfriends, and hitting the gym here and there, as well as pulling my very heavy children in the bike buggy. But it also means busy photography season has arrived. On top of all the portrait sessions I've been doing (with my oh so lovely families), it's full swing wedding mode. And though my own business only takes 1-2 weddings per month in the busy season, I work with 2 other local photographers. My calendar ahead looks like someone's playing a joke on me, but you know I love it. I have 1 Saturday off in May, 1 off in July, and 1 off in August. I have weddings through December, though they slow after October. Phew.
And then there's the city farm of my house, with 2 adults, 2 kids, 3 cats, and 4 chickens that are growing at an alarming rate. Seriously, I think if you stare long enough, they get bigger.
So posting will be rather sporadic here, but don't fret! I'll still be reading your blogs in all my spare time. But let's be real, y'all ain't doing much blogging either!

Loss and all that

Thoughts here are so random, but I keep finding my way back to this place. Writing has always been a temperamental apparatus for me. It's like running, I'm really into it or it falls to the wayside, but I always return to it's joys. I love running. I love writing. But time, life, kids, career, wine, something blocks the landing place.

But today, I'm here to talk about loss. Baby loss, to be exact. I'm always forthright, honest, open, talkative, communicative, and clear about all my losses. But not this one. This one was accidental, unintentional, apologetic, exciting, annoying, and embarrassing all wrapped into one little sushi roll. People ask me how I cope with the loss of a pregnancy, the loss of something that should've been, that could've been, that never was. And it's hard to put into words, it's hard to tell someone that something you never intended to be can somehow be devastating and relieving at the same time. No one knows where they will be in a year, 5 years, 10 years, tomorrow, but somehow we all feel that we have control. Well, we don't. I don't know who is in charge, but it sure as hell ain't always myself.

Listen, when you lose a pregnancy, it sucks. It sucks if you wanted it, it sucks if you didn't ever intent it to happen. But what really sucks is when you have to hear advice, kind words, thoughts, or input from someone that has never, ever experienced it (I'm referring to the kind of degrading sympathy, not the sincere kind). We all come from different places, different parts of our history that never relates to another. And that is ok to me, that is totally viable and understanding. What hurts is when people can so easily speak to you from their own space of suffering, and it's so far from yours that you can't even comprehend their words. Whenever I've lost a pregnancy, intended or not, the last person I need to hear from is someone who has had the easiest 5 pregnancies ever. It just doesn't feel right. When you don't know that kind of loss, don't speak of it. Send kind sympathies, say you're sorry, but don't be boastful about your own fertility. I don't need to hear it, not now, and probably not tomorrow. Maybe a few months from now it'll be easier, but not today. Not about your friend, your sister, your facebook friend. No, it just doesn't work that way.

Just as I wouldn't speak of the hardships of being a rape victim, or a black man, or a deaf lady, or an Indian woman, or a doctor, or a single dad, don't speak to me on your familiarity to the subject. And it's a dual lesson, I must learn to never, ever put myself in your shoes. I don't know what it's like to live how you've lived, but I do know, all too well, what it's like to lose a pregnancy. And it sucks, and it's hard, and it's a breath in and a breath out to get throught the day. But it gets better, life moves on, your family heals, and you realize the beautiful gifts you have directly in front of your face that maybe before seemed ordinary, but today are glowing towards the extraordinary.

I loved you, I didn't need you, but it was going to be ok. I asked the universe to do what it knew best, to take care of whatever needed to be taken care of, to provide what I was to be given, and it did. I knew the answer before I released that exact breath: this wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't meant to be. And I'm ok, we'll be ok, my story will continue how I meant it to be.

Please, do me one favor... if you have never experienced the loss of something beyond yourself, something so big you couldn't wrap your head around for weeks and weeks, something you couldn't even say out loud, please lend a sympathetic ear, hold a hand, give a hug. But don't be that reminder of how easy it comes for you. You never know what the other has suffered, you never know the secrets they may keep, and it never helps in healing to feel like a failure.

We all deserve to feel we provide the best we possibly can for our young, and when our young never make it to that point of feeling that care, we experience such a great hole that all we need is love.

The Noise Of April

April always comes rushing in violently and quickly, forcing the exit of winter with reckless abandon. It means a week jammed with sessions that very well could have been done a month ago. But no, it simply must wait till April. In fact today, which is only Wednesday, I have already had 5 sessions since Saturday. And it doesn't let up till the weekend. And it doesn't really stop till November. This is the name of this photography game, slow drawn out drag followed but fireworks and fury. I'm not quite prepared for it this time, with some bizarre health issues and a week of stall, I haven't yet mentally installed myself for the chaos of now. But, with all due respect, I love it. I love feeling in demand, wanted, needed, over-scheduled, clawing for spare moments.

Do you run a small business out of your home while maintaining care of young children? Do you have slow times of year that end overnight and swallow into the depths of really super busy? Do you wish for these moments in the slow times and question your sanity in the hectic times? Are you really my friend throughout it all? Because let's face it, this unpredictability is hard to grasp, it's confusing and uncharted, but it's how my blood pumps through my veins. I am a hyperactive soul, one that desires noise and squiggles and interruptions. And if you ain't on this train with me, then I suggest you voyeur from the sidelines, cuz it ain't slowin down.

(Written late after a typical girl's night Wednesday)

And so April begins...

It's so crazy beautiful here that I fully believed we were already halfway through May, but no, it is April 2. We have barely had a winter here, and I have now accepted and moved on into the unbeatable beauty that this early spring brought us. Last weekend I shot a wedding, an engagement, and a band album cover. It was so insane that last night I passed out at 9:30 on my couch. Exhaustion.

Needless to say, today I rest. Easton and I went on a short bike ride and played at the park, followed by me having hormonal crazies that made me cancel a playdate, take a bath, and snuggle up with Easton during his nap. I tried to sleep, but all the piles of editing was calling me. It's hard to sandwich everything in while the boy is still around, and I'm reminded of this daily when he hands me a Voltron toy to play with while I'm deep in the throws of photoshop. Ahhh, kindergarten is still 2 years away...

How has your life been? Do you feel a surge of energy when the weather gets so insanely perfect that you hate every moment of being indoors? That's me alright, and the chickens are feeling it too. They now have a temporary run in place for hours of outdoor fun. We can't leave them there totally unsupervised, for it's a bit shoddy for all the stray creatures in our neighborhood. But hopefully, fingers crossed, the coop will be finished within a few days.

Happy April to you!