All too often, I spend what seems like hundreds of hours looking at photos that never make it into the magazine for one reason or another. I fall in love with an image only to find it on the cutting-room floor when it comes to print time, and my heart breaks over and over again. Welcome to Snap, therapy for my heart and a way to share the ones that got away—as well a bunch of other great photo-related stuff.

The February 2008 issue of the magazine includes a feature showcasing 13 great photos I culled from Flickr...

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All too often, I spend what seems like hundreds of hours looking at photos that never make it into the magazine for one reason or another. I fall in love with an image only to find it on the cutting-room floor when it comes to print time, and my heart breaks over and over again. Welcome to Snap, therapy for my heart and a way to share the ones that got away—as well a bunch of other great photo-related stuff.

The February 2008 issue of the magazine includes a feature showcasing 13 great photos I culled from Flickr...

" />

All too often, I spend what seems like hundreds of hours looking at photos that never make it into the magazine for one reason or another. I fall in love with an image only to find it on the cutting-room floor when it comes to print time, and my heart breaks over and over again. Welcome to Snap, therapy for my heart and a way to share the ones that got away—as well a bunch of other great photo-related stuff.

The February 2008 issue of the magazine includes a feature showcasing 13 great photos I culled from Flickr...

" />

The One That Got Away

All too often, I spend what seems like hundreds of hours looking at photos that never make it into the magazine for one reason or another. I fall in love with an image only to find it on the cutting-room floor when it comes to print time, and my heart breaks over and over again. Welcome to Snap, therapy for my heart and a way to share the ones that got away—as well a bunch of other great photo-related stuff.

The February 2008 issue of the magazine includes a feature showcasing 13 great photos I culled from Flickr

Week 35: Guilt, Misogyny, and Vaginas

Why the hate? That’s what I want to know. Misogyny is alive and well and living in male-oriented books about pregnancy. Take a look at these excerpts:

•”There are many reasons to resent your wife when she’s pregnant.”
•”[Y]our wife should be treated like any other savage creature ready to attack.”
•”Instead of acting like a temptress, she’ll act more like a toddler. Once you start thinking of your wife as a baby, not a broad, you’ll notice other similarities as well.”
•”[T]hink of pregnancy as a nine-month stint at a prisoner-of-war camp . . .”
•”Sure, living with a pregnant woman can’t kill you, but it sure can take the fun out of living.”

Boy. No wonder so many men bail out just after they’ve pulled out…

Week 35: The Love Bloat

I just read a new study that claims the average pregnancy is not 40 weeks, but rather 41 1/2. Great. I feel like we just got another couple of years tacked on to our life sentence.

Regardless, a healthy woman should gain between 25 and 35 pounds over the course of a pregnancy. A few years back, I saw a woman—let’s call her Sharon—gain roughly 70 pounds. She didn’t look like Sharon; she looked like a person who had eaten Sharon. With a side of fries. She was predictably miserable. Her wedding ring went in a drawer for nine months because her finger was too bloated to accommodate it. I recall the moment she realized she could no longer cross her legs. “Well, shit,” she said, trying to locate her feet for a few seconds. Then she went back to looking miserable…

Mr. Un-Popularity

From our February 2008 issue: Rod Blagojevich was something of a golden boy when he became the governor of Illinois—a young, charismatic champion of change with powerful backers and presidential aspirations. Now he may be the most unpopular governor in the country. A look at how things fell so completely apart

Week 34: Prenatal Porn

We’ve begun watching horribly graphic childbirth videos in our Bradley class. Yes, I understand their purpose: no one is trying to candy-coat this whole delivery thing, nor should they. Labor is obviously painful and wet and loud and bloody, and if we aren’t ready for that we’re doing ourselves—and our baby—a major disservice. But it’s still gross.

There was the video in which the husband crumpled to the floor like an empty tent when the doctor presented the massive needle for his wife’s epidural.

There was the water birth in some kind of icky prenatal jacuzzi that eventually had nine or so different kinds of fluid floating in it, none of which you’d want to see in your kitchen sink…

Week 34: Breaking the Ultrasound Barrier

Sarah’s heartburn is unbearable, for us both. Acid reflux is a problem for preggos, especially at night because when they lie down, stomach acid rises into their esophagus. Yuck. Therefore, she’s sleeping with her head elevated, and making use of the “body pillow” Kenn and Julie bought from Bed, Bath & Beyond. It’s doing the trick, but our king-size is getting mighty crowded. This morning I counted nine pillows, three blankets, four stuffed animals, five books, and one dirty spoon. Now the body pillow. It’s such a massive presence that when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can’t find my wife. She’s over there somewhere, I guess, because I can hear the noises in her stomach…