This post is incredibly personal. It has nothing and EVERYTHING to do with photographing pregnant mummies and their beautiful babies.
You see, on March 6 my world turned upside down.
My husband was out cycling and was hit head on by a concrete truck.
He suffered life-threatening injuries and was air-lifted to hospital. He underwent many hours of brain surgery and was placed into an induced coma. The news I was given was the worst possible scenario. His prospects were extremely poor after such serious trauma to his brain.
Everything I thought I ‘wanted’ and ‘needed’ became instantly irrelevant.
The only thing I wanted was for him to wake up, squeeze my hand, and smile at me.
But the only thing I had were memories. And photos.
It became vital to me that the staff in the ICU knew who my husband was. What he normally looked like. That he was a husband, a dad. Not just ‘the patient’ in bed 21.
My beautiful friend, our family photographer Sarah Black arrived at the ICU with this photo printed big so they could SEE him.
And so I could see him.
The person we were all fighting for.
Luke.
You can see the rest of this gallery here.
Those photos were also his legacy. Our littlest baby was only three at the time of the accident. I was terrified that she would forget what he looked like if he didn’t wake up.
Then one day he did wake up. And he did squeeze my hand. And eventually, a couple of weeks later and after the breathing tube was removed from his mouth, he did smile at me.
I didn’t have to let him go.
He is now home with us. Still healing, but here, at home, where he belongs. With us.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to share this story. It is deeply personal and my family has been thrust into public view for the most awful of reasons. But the message in it is important.
Get in photos.
Even if you are not feeling glamorous. Whether or not you have a post baby belly. With or without makeup.
Because, at the end of the day, it is not about how you feel about yourself right now, it is about those who love you and who you love. It is about what you want to remember in the future.
As mummies (and daddies) it is our job, if we are doing it right, to let go.
To grow our babies up so they don’t need us in the same way anymore.
To help them grow their wings so they can fly by themselves.
But it is a grieving process for us as much as a growing process for them.
Joyful and devastatingly heartbreaking at the same time.
Every day I crave and at the same time dread the day that little people won’t pile into my bed at all hours of the night.
Little hands touching my face in the darkness to make sure I am still there.
Pushing me to the edge of the bed with little bottoms so I am left with an inch of space so they can find their comfort.
Cuddles around my neck so tight that I can barely breathe, let alone sleep.
And at the end of that time, when they are grown and the people that I helped shape them to be, all I will have is my memories of those little hands.
Those beautiful little faces looking up at me like I am the most lovely mummy in the world.
Their sweaty hair sleeping on my chest.
And me cuddling my babies in the quiet of the night.
Memories are important. At the end of the day, when things have changed, they are all we have.
This is why I am not just a baby photographer, but a parenthood photographer.
Because this is what I am truly inspired by.
Creating memories of parenthood.
This is your story as much as it is theirs.
If you are moved by my work and feel that it is a right fit for you, by all means, please get in touch. But that is not what this story is about. It is about YOU being a part of the memory.
Whether it be on your mobile phone or through a professional photographer.
Get in photos.
At some point, one day, they’ll mean everything to you.