Private Story
The Waiting Time
When I first conceived "The Waiting Time", an ongoing project capturing the final days of pregnancy, I was doing just that. Mere days before my due date, my movements were slow and purposeful, but my mind raced. Doubts, a near paralyzing torrent, had me questioning it all. Will it be healthy? - Will there be complications? - Will it be a boy or a girl? - Will I be a good mother? - When will I be able to get back to work without feeling guilty? - Will my relationship withstand this? - Will we be good parents? - Will I still be me? Was this the right decision? - Is this the right world to bring a child into? - When will this heartburn end? These final moments for any expectant mother are a maelstrom of emotions that are often hidden behind a stoic visage. A determined stoicism that one is only capable of because of the atavistic super power of the female collective belief. Pregnancy in itself is an act of belief. A belief in oneself. A belief in relationships. A belief that you don't need a relationship. A belief in the future. A belief that there will be better. A belief that a part of you can be part of or even responsible for that better. A belief in the greatest love... maternal love and the belief in its ability to overcome all.
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