Yesterday’s venue was Boots. In a shopping centre, on a hot and humid day, where the air conditioning was malfunctioning in some way (there is no other earthly reason it could have been so bloody hot in there).
I made my way to the back of the store because I knew that there would be a chair in the mother and baby room. Except the bastard thing was locked. There was a lady also trying to get into it with a baby to change nappies, who very kindly interrupted a conversation that a nearby sales assistant was having with a customer to get her to open the room.
In the space of time it took the sales assistant to go off, find the code for the stupid lock on the door (seriously, it’s a busy Saturday, why the hell does it need locking at all?!) and come back and open it, I went from being able to breathe through it standing up, to crouching next to The Boy’s pushchair (I thought if I got closer to the ground, when I keeled over I’d have less of a way to fall) feeling myself go unsteady, and everything start to spin, and my ears start ringing. The other lady helped me to the seat, and luckily I’d recently purchased a bottle of water so was able to sit and sip, and regain my composure. The Boy was thoroughly bored and was starting to be grumpy because he had been strapped into his pushchair for far longer than he’d have liked.
Luckily all I needed was to sit down, sip water and do some yoga breathing for a bit to get over this one.
Today’s venue? The sitting room floor. I was sat on the sofa and suddenly came over faint. Tight-fitting clothing was the first thing to go (the jeans had come off as soon as I got home from seeing a friend, see the epilogue below). I hadn’t even exerted myself – I was totally stationary and sedentary when it happened. Husband kindly brought me a glass of cold water, but even that didn’t make much difference this time – I then got onto the floor and bent over forwards in a sort of bum in the air (yes, I was still wearing my pants, luckily, or this would have been some sight), head down position. This made me feel almost instantly better, and I had to remain this way for a few minutes. With The Boy stroking my hair. He rocks.
The epilogue to this is that the friend I was seeing – Bryony – is a photographer, and nothing short of a genius. Her genius is that when she points a camera at someone, something magical happens. Bryony and her magical camera can see through the layers of sick, feeling awful, having appalling skin, unstable pelvises, bloating, backache, and nights upon nights of having had very little sleep, and the days of being run ragged by a toddler… And she can find something beautiful. And I must confess to having seen the pictures, and for the first time in a while, cried in a very, very good way. She made me look beautiful. She made me look as if I glow! She’s a magician. If she can make me look good, imagine what she can do to someone who’s not feeling like crap 95% of the time. If you are anywhere around the midlands, please, please consider booking a shoot with her. She’s fantastic. See for yourself!
TRP (aka Rachel) xx