The camera roll on my iPhone is totally out of control.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to remove photos from it since Charlotte was born. I want them all. All the time.
BUT, both my phone and iCloud are totally out of space, and I’m not about to pay for more iCloud space than I’m already paying for.
So this week, I started the overwhelming task of going through my photos one by one and deleting the ones that are repeats (am I the only one who takes 10 shots of one pose?), blurry, or things that I just don’t need to keep. I’ve been using my pump time to do this (an hour a day), so as of right now I’m 2.5 hours into this project. I started with the day Charlotte was born (July 26th) and I’ve made it all the way to… August 16th.
Yeah. I have a bit of a problem when it comes to taking pictures.
I mean, I’m grateful for the memories and all, but do I really need to remember every time Charlotte drooled? My brain says no, but my heart says yes. I’m working on it.
In the meantime, I’ve now logged several hours in front of Charlotte’s tiniest baby pictures and I feel like I’m being drowned by a wave of nostalgia. It’s actually physically painful to look at these pictures and know that my tiny baby will never be that tiny ever again.
Even worse are the feelings of regret. I look back to that time and I remember the battle with breastfeeding and all of the pressure I put on myself to make it work. It was a constant struggle—I was always worried about it. It made it so hard to just be in the moment with my newborn baby.
I want a do-over. I don’t want another baby, I just want to go back and re-live Charlotte’s first months. I want to hold my littlest love complete with all of the knowledge I have now. I want to let go of the anxiety and the worry and just be present in those weeks with her. I want to totally lose myself in her new baby smell and squeaky little coos.
I’d probably still make the decision to breastfeed, but at least I’d know how to make it work and I wouldn’t have to worry so damn much.
Today, Timehop showed me that one year ago (Charlotte was 5 days old) I was diagnosed with double mastitis and a raging UTI. (A UTI that it would take 3 different cycles of antibiotics to kick.)
I remember those days. I remember the tears and the frustration and the hormones. The bleeding and the pain. The desperation. The anxiety.
Looking back, it’s hard to believe that that poor mess of a new mother was me. I’d give just about anything to be able to wrap that mama up in my arms and show her a glimpse of life right now. I wish she could have seen how it would all be okay. I wish she could have understood how second nature it would all become… how time would heal more than just the stitches and the infections.
The pictures show Charlotte growing before our very eyes, but it’s easy to forget how much we grow as mamas, too.