This is me with my son when he was three days old. Early on, his Mom was diagnosed with a condition that made for a very high risk pregnancy – the kind that, back in the day, ended in sudden, bloody death for both mother and child.
So she was consigned to bed rest for her last two trimesters. Even then, things were dicey. All our energy focused on bringing the boy as close to term as possible. Every week I’d tape a big number on the wall facing her nest; 28 was the important one – it was the number of weeks at which he could be considered ‘viable’. Anything after that was a bonus.
They made it to 34. His Mom needed four units of blood.
We’d received a cornucopia of baby clothes, but none of them fit his bitty frame, so day one I hit the mall to find some preemie togs. None of his skin fit either; until he grew into that, too, he looked like a very old, very wise, very small wizard.
That was then. Today, he’s thirteen. Last summer, he passed his Mother’s height.
Eric Perret, Mylio Wordwright
- I’m a lucid dreamer.
- My right hand is bigger than my left.
- The Dalai Lama once pointed at me – then laughed.
I like to shoot: For quick stuff, I’ve been a Nikon guy since film days, what can I say. I like shooting people, in their environments, hopefully capturing a moment that tells a whole story.
My Mylio setup: Six devices and over 8,000 images.