Gnumoon's Stuff

MerleFest Wrap-up

Well, I survived to tell the tale of photographing Merlefest ... 8 months pregnant. It was loads of fun, but I think it will take a few days to recover. My wonderful husband spent the weekend painting and doing some home repair/baby preparation stuff I can't be present for. Then he'd fixed me dinner when I got home from the 'boro last night- think I'll keep him.

I'm slowly but surely working on a Flickr album from the festival, but since I have a Real Job (c), it may take a while to get it finished. But you can check the progress here, if you are so inclined.
The plan is to take some time off from shooting festivals and concerts until somewhat post-Pookie-arrival, but with Tool, Rush, and Floydfest coming up, I don't know how I can stick to that. They're so much fun...

PUotD: Last night I think she was trying to get out, Alien-style. DJ and I watched her poke out reaaaaaaally far on one side of my stomach and then reaaaaaally far the other way. I tried to tell her she was doing it wrong, but you know kids these days. Think they know everything.

Liveblogging - Day 4

12:30 p.m. - Back again. And it is HOT today. Here's some Allison Krauss love for LBP from last night (I admit I didn't stay for her whole set. I was tired and it was really crowded). Also, she has more mics on her and her instruments than any artist I've ever seen, and it was damn near impossible to get a clear shot. Highly frustrating.

Liveblogging - Day 3

12:45 p.m. - I'm back again. Finally. The photographers/media must have pissed someone off last year, because we got demoted and have to park in Siberia somewhere. It's a harrowing golf cart ride down the mountain to get to the actual festival. It's like some lame-ass "let's-ride-this-because-the-line-for-the-Tennessee-Tornado-is-too-long" ride at Dollywood. I'm constantly ready to leap to safety if the brakes decide they just can't handle it.
I also just realized I left my meal card in my jeans from yesterday. That means scavenging from the artists' Get-Away tent where I'm based. Luckily they didn't specify you have to be a musical artist... here's a very lovely fingerpainting of a duck. May I have a bagel now, please?

1:15 p.m. - Just bumped into John Paul Jones. He seems very nice. Successfully resisted the urge to break into "Immigrant Song." Aeeeyaaaaaahhhhhhhhh-AH!

1:45 p.m. - Just got confirmation that Otis just finished her first half-marathon over in Nashville. Good on you, baby! Go eat a cheesecake!

2:42 p.m. - If you are a photographer or have somehow procured yourself a photo PASS, please note that the platforms are for WORKING, not for having the best possible vantage point to watch your favorite band. This belly, it is large, and it might just accidentally displace you...it's about 8 feet down. Think about it.

4:10 p.m. - The Duhks' set turned out to be pretty eventful. Evidently those of the avian persuasion prefer Nikon, because a bird crapped all over me and my new Canon.
Luckily I got it cleaned up and got back on the platform in time for special guest JPJ to come out and jam with the band for "Whole Lotta Love." Sweeeeet.
Then he was just back here in the tent and again I didn't ask him for an autograph...someday I might regret it, but I feel like such a dork doing that. There's something inherently odd about knowing more about someone else than they know about you, and I'd imagine that in reverse it gets downright creepy. You never want to be the "You're definitely the most underrated member of Zep!" guy, who I heard earlier. What an ass.

In other news, this may be my favorite picture I've ever taken. There is SO MUCH in that little girl's expression, not the least of being "Oh my god, dad, are you are going to still look like this when I'm trying to date?!":

6:57 p.m. - I've had a most enjoyable 2 hour break, wandering around the festival and eating some good food. Now it's time for tonight's home stretch... the Homecoming Jam, Sam Bush, Bela Fleck, and Allison Krauss and Union Station. That'll take us through until 11 pm.

Liveblogging - Day 2

Notes from the fest:

9:44 pm - OK... Elvis Costello, Sam Bush, Jim Lauderdale et al doing "Friend of the Devil" is pretty damn cool. Maybe not quite as cool as hearing Bob Wier and The Waybacks (hi Stevie) do it last year, but still pretty nifty.

8:22 - Energy. waning. fast. But so is everyone else's. There are some completely tired-ass-looking people here.
There is some big party tonight (seems like a cast party, but in the woods somewhere) that is apparently the thing to do, but there is absolutely no way I'm going to that. I'd fall asleep in the woods somewhere and wake up tomorrow all confused and covered with dew.

7:05 - The festival folks feed everyone who is working or performing, and it's usually pretty decent- chicken parm, lasagna, etc. Tonight's fare was cranberry meatloaf. It was fine, but meatloaf? That seems like a really random thing to prepare and serve to 1800+ folks.

4:56 - Pookie seems to love Bela Fleck and Sam Bush. I spent most of the shooting portion of their set being beaten like a rented mule from my ribs to my bladder. At what point should I invest in a tiny banjo? Note: I just heard that Bela was on Letterman last night and now he's here- that has to be one serious culture shock. L.A. /= Wilkesboro.

2:32 p.m. - I was just shooting from the photo platform, and I turned to take the random "audience enjoying the show" shot, only to see in my viewfinder a guy I haven't seen in 12 years - since high school in another STATE. Wild- small world.

10:35 a.m. – I’m happy to report that the people I’m renting a room from do not appear to be psychopathic serial killers. Or if they are, they seem uninterested in murdering pregnant photographers in their late 20s. Kidding…they are very nice people with a beautiful Victorian home and 2 hilarious little dogs.
I slept like a rock from 12:30 last night until 9 this morning.

General Notes:
- Loving the new camera/lenses. There is some white balancing funkiness I have yet to defeat in low/stage light. That’s today’s goal.

Liveblogging - Day 1

Notes from the fest:

3:45 pm - Right now there is a band singing a tribute to Dale Earnhardt, which is a really not what the bluegrass/Americana crowd here has paid to hear. It’s called “Feelin a Little Like Dale.” What does that feel like? Dead?

4:15 pm - So I’m here in the VIP tent (aren’t you all jealous?) and it’s really funny to just sit here and act like I’m mega-busy, but actually be listening to managers and PR people trying to impress each other. One guy just bragged that he’s in charge of a festival that is featuring both Kid Rock and…wait for it…Kevin Federline. Wooo-hooo! Sign me up to shoot that one!

7:34 pm - And here comes the rain. It’s been threatening all day, and it’s finally made good on that threat. We have a 70% chance of serious thunderstorms here tonight, between 7 and midnight, so we shall see. I have a trusty poncho for me and several gallon-sized zip-loc bags for the cameras. Bring it.

9:18 pm – I was just in the backstage bathroom, and some very high-maintenance-looking woman was coming out of the stall. She was all made up and had on a glittery wristband, which means she’s a performer. (The rest of us, the grunts, have on jeans,  sneakers, and in general look like hell)
I entered the stall only to discover that she had peed ALL OVER the seat. Come ON, people. That is just GROSS. Grah-doo. Wipe the seatie, sweetie.
If I end up shooting whatever band she’s in, I’ll post her photo. Wicked pissah.

10:43 pm - I just walked past a guy and realized it was Elvis Costello as I was looking at him. He kind of gave me a g-nod. Funny. Looks exactly like he does on TV.

General notes:
Photographers are a funny bunch. Whereas most of the staff/performers I met last year are like, “OMYGODYOUREPREGNANT!” and then rush over to hug me and talk about it, the photographers I met last year rush over and say “OMYGODYOUGOTANEWCAMERA!” And gush about it and compare it to theirs. Only one of the other stage photogs (and there are several of us) have even noticed that I’m five weeks away from shoving a human being out of my nether regions, but they’ve ALL commented on my 70-200 f/2.8 and how proud I should be of it and how beautiful it is.  (The lens IS pretty big…I wonder if it would hurt less to birth that than an actual person. ….nah.)

Musical therapy for hurt feelings

I’ve been throwing a bit of a pity party for myself the past few days. I don’t know if it’s the hormones (I HATE it when women use that excuse) or the insane workload I’ve been trying to juggle, though I actually suspect that some of the issues I’ve been upset about are legitimate. I’ve been very “nobody likes me, so I’m gonna go eat worms” lately, and that isn’t really me.

So … screw it.

I’m heading down the mountain in the morning to be the mainstage photographer for this music festival. Four 12-hour days of nonstop shooting and working may kill me, but it’ll get my mind off some of these issues. It does suck that the only accommodations I could find are costing me three times what I’m making to shoot the festival, but I can’t fathom driving back and forth every day and night this pregnant. (And if today is any indicator, my ankles may engulf the stage before the end of it all…scary!)

Y’all have a great rest of the week and weekend- I’m going to head out, get a change of scenery, and try to get out of this funk. And I’m also going to try pretty hard not to go into labor in the middle of the festival while I’m down there all alone!

PUotD: Pooks got an arm or leg wedged under my ribs yesterday- I had to pry it out so neither of us got hurt. I’m also getting bigger by the day. I bet she’s up to 6 pounds by now.

A miniature bitch session

This is one crazy week…sometimes it makes me wonder why I take on so much.
I just find myself looking at all the selfish slack-asses who take every shortcut in life and yet still somehow end up with all the perks, and it makes me wonder what the point of hard work really is.
Oh wait…life isn’t fair? Bummer. Wish I could go back and tell myself that- I could have been having fun and screwing around all these years instead of getting degrees, working hard at work, marriage, and life, and making difficult grown-up decisions in an effort to better myself!

In other, less ranting news, I accidentally ate part of a really undercooked hamburger today, and it was truly revolting. I swear if I end up with worms or BSE or something I am going to have some WORDS with that concession stand guy.

My trip to the hospital

OK, yesterday when I said I “got some sun,” it would be more truthful to say I “got boiled like a fat Maine lobstah.” As did a lot of other people at that festival- our much-covered winter skin just wasn’t ready for the broiling sun just yet. Ouch. And I have such a lovely white diagonal line across my chest from the lens case that was slung around my shoulder all day. Memo to self: take some sunblock to Merlefest, dammit.

As promised, here is a story from earlier in the week. It may be a little graphic for some, just a warning, and it's long. Vocabulary words link to their Wiki articles, in case you are a dude who for some reason wants to read this story. I’m blogging it because I know there are some pregnant women/husbands of pregnant women reading, and I want you to know that scary symptoms aren’t always what they appear to be…

Tuesday I was feeling okay until lunchtime, when I suddenly started feeling decidedly “crampy,” which wasn’t a sensation I’d had for a while or was counting on having for a while. Icky story short, the fastest way to terrify a pregnant woman is for her to see blood, and that’s what happened.

I left without saying much to my co-workers (they later had words with me about this, and they were right of course, I was just too shaky to be thinking straight), and went out to the car with the cell phone glued to my ear. When I finally got through to the doctor, I was told to go to the hospital and they were calling ahead to pre-admit me. OMG, the hospital…I was trying very hard to hold it all together at this point. (Did I mention that DJ was in Charlotte, 2 hours away, and that I couldn’t get in touch with him? Yeah, that too. When I DID get in touch with him, he was in the car and pulled one of those 90mph-lane-changes-across-to-the-offramp moves that they do in movies to head back up the mountain.)

I was admitted to the hospital, complete with a wheelchair ride up to the OB ward. I was shown to a room where I changed into an ace-bandage-like girdle and lovely backless gown. The nurse made a face when she took my blood pressure, but really, did she expect it to be normal? Then she got around to putting the fetal monitor on…for an excruciating few moments, nothing. Nothing. Then I heard the heartbeat, and it was fast and strong like it should be. I immediately calmed down. OK now, I thought. Anything that happens now can be taken care of…she's okay in there, that's all that matters.

So I relaxed and watched the monitors while waiting for the doc, who was in the middle of an emergency C-section. After about an hour he came in and asked me a bunch of questions, looked at the monitors, and then did the most uncomfortable pelvic exam I’ve ever been subjected to. Apparently gentleness goes out the window a bit if there happens to be a semi-emergency situation brewing. I’ll spare you those details except to say that I’m 96% sure the speculum used was boosted from the Smithsonian’s “Gynecology in the Middle Ages” exhibit.

He went away to examine his little slides of stuff, and I went back to watching the monitor. Pookie kept kicking it and moving out from under it, and the machine would turn red and freak out until it found the heartbeat again. The nurse observed that Pooks is very active, and I agreed- we didn’t know how true that would turn out to be.

After a while the doc returned with an ultrasound machine to check fluid levels and measure the kiddo and whatnot. Everything checked out fine, and he was able to tell me that Pookie is about 5 pounds 5 ounces. My dear husband showed up about 5 minutes after the ultrasound, so he didn’t get to see her on the screen.

So…after three hours of stress, tests, and an as-yet unknown hit to the ol insurance, what was the verdict? Closed cervix, no signs of preterm labor, nothing out of the ordinary at all.
It’s likely that my dear, sweet, bully of a child delivered a swift punch to the cervix, and knocked out a glob of the mucous plug, causing bleeding. Didn’t know babies could do that? Neither did I- apparently it’s rare but not unheard-of, and after observing how active she was, the doc said it was the likeliest possibility.

So there it is. Not a complication, but an “isolated incident.” One that scared the hell out of us, for sure, and made us much more aware and thankful for how uneventful this pregnancy has been thus far. Here’s hoping we won’t be back at the medical center for another month or so!

Appalachian Roots Festival

I got to catch some sun, shoot some great bands, hang out with Blue Ridge Blogger, and get some important contact time with my new camera today. Not a bad Saturday at all.

My most controversial post ever...here it is

OK, I *really* didn’t want to get into this one. I didn’t want to say anything at all, because it’s one of three or so issues that do nothing but polarize people and make friends enemies. But this latest SCOTUS ruling is upsetting to me, and should be to anyone who is a woman or cares about the life of a woman.

Let’s get one thing straight here: no one is pro-partial-birth-abortion. It is an undeniably horrible and nightmarish procedure that I will NOT explain here, and it is thankfully very rare. And no woman waits that long (20+ weeks) to terminate an unwanted pregnancy for social reasons- the only reason for this particular procedure is if there is serious deformity/disease/fetal death or there is imminent danger to the woman carrying the child. (Also, unlike other options, this leaves the uterus intact and opens the door to the possibility of future fertility. This may be the only comfort a woman has to fall back on if she faces such a decision.)

The problem I have with the ruling (as do other people) is that this law makes the procedure illegal, even when the mother could die without it. Sometimes a woman is not healthy enough for an induction or a C-section, and this is the only option. This isn’t an issue of the mother’s life vs. the baby’s…in the majority of these cases, BOTH will die.

In this case “pro-life” is very much a misnomer. According to the new law, a woman’s family will likely have to mourn two lives: both the baby they never got to meet and the woman who they have known and loved for years will be gone forever. That doesn’t sound very pro-life to me.

I’m very pregnant right now, so these are issues that are heart-wrenching to think about- so much so that I’ve stopped watching the coverage for the most part. I can’t imagine the horror of discovering that something is wrong with the life you’ve been nurturing so carefully inside for the better part of a year. It must be THE HARDEST, most psychologically traumatic decision a woman (a mother) can be called upon to make, and it is a decision that should be up to her, the doctor, her family, and, if applicable, her religious beliefs. Not politicians who sign a piece of paper and wash their hands of the issue.

Please go read this first-hand account, and be thankful that it isn’t you or someone you love making those decisions.

ps- I don’t wish to start a flamewar, so if by some chance a vicious “pro-either side and screw your point of view” website picks this post up and I start getting incendiary comments, I’ll delete them. I can’t take that right now. Like I said, it’s been weighing on me enough.

pss- Because this had been the most depressing week ever, let’s all go watch this video, which is funnier than it has any right to be.

PUotD: I'm collecting my thoughts for a post about a scary experience I had this week (that turned out FINE, so don't worry). It included a hospital admission, monitors, the machine that goes *ping*, the whole nine.