Deciding not to have any more kids was a decision I never really made. It just sort of happened. I never said I was done, never came around to the idea of never having another baby. Time just did what it does best. It kept flowing downstream while my feet remained planted among the rocks.

When I photograph a new baby, I get to go back to those feelings and see the memories of my babies a little more clearly, even if only for an hour.

But more importantly, photographing a baby is my way of helping a new mom hold onto those memories. It's my way of telling her without telling her.

Moms ten steps ahead of me and ten thousand steps ahead of me told me to slow down, to remember, to not take those moments for granted because it goes so fast. And I merely rolled my eyes before resuming my tired stare and dry crying.


It's near impossible to tell a new mom that it'll go by quickly. Hard to remind her to take it all in when she's tired, anxious, lonely, desperate.

Creating photos of a mom's new baby is like placing a hand curled around a finger, a micro yawn, and a confused and very furrowed brow inside a neatly wrapped box where dust won't destroy. That mom can open life the lid off that box and breathe those moments in when she forgets to slow down (because we all do) and when time does it's thing (because it always will).