Picture perfect

During today's lunch, I decided to peruse my fellow mother-in-mourning's online photo album. "K" has some wonderful mini-albums, celebrating all sorts of family milestones, home renovations, holidays, and vacations, and it's wonderful to see those moments in time so lovingly captured.

I love looking at photo albums - I could look at them for hours, long after anyone else's interest has waned. I've always felt that a picture truly is worth a thousand words ... and then some.

I continued through K's pictures, enjoying each grouping, until I came to one section that stopped me in my tracks, figuratively speaking.

There I was, looking at pictures that were all-too-familiar - pictures of a happier time - where I could've taken the heads of Mike and myself and pasted them into the pictures of K and her beloved husband, or vice versa.

There were the nursery progression shots. There were the proud baby-belly shots. There were the pictures of the gifts and supplies. And, there were the innocent and happy smiles of a couple anxiously awaiting the arrival of their first child.

I have those same pictures that were snapped during those blissful nine months. God ... what an innocent and naive time that was, before our lives were forever changed.

Everything in those pictures was perfect - in my version and in K's. I remember it so well that I can almost smell the fresh paint from the nursery walls. I remember the sense of accomplishment when I successfully diapered my Cabbage Patch kid. I remember the way my heart smiled when I finished painting the wooden letters that spelled out "R Y A N" - the name I wouldn't share with anyone before his joyous arrival. I remember neatly stacking the diapers and checking that the crib sheets were properly and safely tucked in. I remember the excitement of leaving for the hospital the morning Ryan was born, smiling the biggest smile I had to offer for the last of my belly shots.

If only everything now was as perfect as it was in those pictures ...