I'm expecting. Or. If you know me, maybe it isn't so surprising. This is my third pregnancy since 2013, other than shooting - being a mom is the other thing I'm a total pro at these days. John came home from deployment in March, I was pregnant in April. Total military spouse cliche, my deployment baby will join Gabriella and Emerson and make a perfect trio. Although, if I'm completely, totally honest - I'm totally freaked out at the prospect of being outnumbered by these tiny dictators. But, I've never been one to shy away from a challenge.
I'm due in January 2018. Which means during this pregnancy, (before the third trimester) we'll have bought a house, moved across the country (we got orders earlier this year to Washington, D.C.), and moved into our new home in Waldorf, Maryland. I was hoping for another girl and was totally convinced that's what I was having due to my dry skin, acne and unruly hair. Earlier this week, the phrase "every pregnancy is different" was proven correct when the ultrasound tech told me I'm having a boy.
I was verklempt. John did some sort of manly fistpump gesture, despite the daggers I was shooting him for being excited while I was clearly in turmoil. I know, I know - a healthy baby is what the goal is, but you don't understand - I WAS HAVING A GIRL. I knew this. I willed it. I envisioned it. I had a registry full of floral patterns, shades of pink, and adorable clothes my son will not wear until he's much older and decides for himself. Lol, tears came to my eyes. I was so indignant, I told the ultrasound tech to look again. She obliged and I accepted the penis on the screen - taunting me as my child's first act of defiance.
Clearly, despite all evidence to the contrary - Shannon doesn't always get what she wants, and I was reminded to humble myself - life happens whether or not I want it to go a certain way. Maybe when he's older we'll find out he's a girl, and I'll have to readjust my expectations and wardrobe choices again. Gender is fluid, and I constantly fight against my socialization that it only exists as a binary boy/girl thing.
I announced my pregnancy once my Wonder Woman crown came in. (Yes, I saw the movie and ordered myself a crown. You've seen my photography - only someone with a serious dramatic flare could shoot like that). I've decided to have the biggest, most unapologetic pregnancy. I booked Cat Palmer to do my maternity photography. I'm flying her in and when we move out to D.C. we'll be stopping in Salt Lake City so I can impose upon her to pretty puhleese shoot me on the salt flats and maybe in her studio so I can channel Beyonce. (Cat are you reading this? How much do you love me?) This is my last pregnancy (I love my kids, but like, seriously - three is enough for us), and I'm going to revel in it.
I've decided to document our trip across country in my next personal project and this time I'm going to incorporate live updates via Instagram. More to come soon!