Oct
31
2015
My child is the sweetest most lovable little boy. He has the most gentle nature about him and just loves to be cuddled. He greets each day with the biggest smiles and gets so excited to watch his sisters play; he so desperately wants to join them. He adores it when people give him attention and has plenty of gummy smiles when someone talks to him. He’s always in a good mood. I love it the most when he giggles. His eyes start to twinkle and he has a belly laugh that makes me burst out laughing. It’s clear all he’s wants is to be loved.
It hasn’t been a question so much as a statement where people keep telling us you should be glad he doesn’t have “x.” There are so many families out there dealing with so much more but that doesn’t make anything any better. For anyone.
We didn’t find out until R was 3 weeks old and it was by far the most devastating news we ever received. It’s not an easy path, but there isn’t one second I didn’t wish that he wasn’t here. When you look into your child’s eyes you’ll realize that nothing else will matter and that baby will have the same needs as any other. It may not be the child you wanted, but it may just be the child you need.
A child just as any other.
Just to treat us and our child like any other. To be patient with us when we can’t join you because of an appointment. And know that your friendship will be invaluable.
Oct
27
2015
Piper is our rainbow baby. Her daddy and I lost two pregnancies before we finally were blessed with the gift of her. Early in my pregnancy with Piper, I thought I lost her twice. But each time we went to the doctor her heart was beating strong. We knew she was special even then. She was strong, she was wanted, and she was loved. She is our baby, our blessing, our light. She likes to eat and sleep, and she loves her mommy and daddy’s hugs & kisses.
That she can consider herself so lucky that God has chosen her to love and care for His most special blessing, a baby more beautiful than she could ever imagine.
To see her beauty as we see it. To see the amazing little person she is.
Educate themselves on what Down Syndrome is, stop being afraid of the unknown.
Oct
26
2015
Lydia is everything I never knew I wanted! She loves to cuddle with her siblings and absolutely lights up when her brother comes in the room. Her biggest smiles come when you need them the most. Her smiles start in her toes and work all the way up to her gorgeous face. If you are holding her, you can feel her body tighten up starting at her feet and then when it reaches her face, there’s that smile! It’s a full body effort for those smiles.
I wish that people wouldn’t ask about her delays. With Down Syndrome, it’s not a question of “if” there will be a delay, but “how much” of a delay will there be. Every child, typical or not, will experience delays in some areas. You wouldn’t ask a typical child’s mom how delayed they are in certain areas, so why ask about Lydia’s delays?
Yes I breastfed even when the doctors at the hospital told me that Lydia wouldn’t be able to. It took her 9 weeks to learn how, but she DID learn how. Yes, she has a heart condition. There is a very small hole between the top two chambers of her heart, but it is so small that her cardiologist won’t see her back for 2 years. I also really dislike the well child check up questions the nurse asks. I always have to say no to most of the questions. I know that she will hit those milestones that they are asking about, its just a monthly reminder that she’s a little behind her typical peers.
Down Syndrome is not as scary as what you have read in books. You have to remember that your child is a child first! A child with Down Syndrome is still a child and will need the same love that a child without Down Syndrome needs! There will be some challenges, but there will be great rewards at the end of those challenges!
I hate the saying, “God only gives special babies to special parents.” That’s simply not true. If it were, 92% of all prenatally diagnosed cases of Down Syndrome wouldn’t be aborted. What I want people to think when they see Lydia is, “Wow, what a cutie!”
Just love us. Love all of us. Don’t love Lydia more than any of my other kids. Don’t love her any less. Don’t love her because she has Down Syndrome, love her because she is Lydia.
Also, I want people to learn the language. The R word is not welcome and should be erased from vocabularies! She has Down Syndrome, sometimes called Trisomy 21. Those are the two accepted ways to refer to her diagnosis.
I’m a huge advocate of people first language. Lydia is a child with Down Syndrome, she is not a Down’s baby. She is not Downs. My biggest pet peeve is when people say, “She doesn’t look Downs.” My response to that is, “Well, I am holding her up and not down.” She is a baby, and like all babies, they all have different features.
Oct
19
2015I’ve always been more of a storyteller than a photographer.
I remember walking the neighborhood looking for stories with my Kodak Advantix film camera around 13. I took a picture of a chicken. It was walking down a side street in my very urban neighborhood in North Myrtle Beach. There were flood waters everywhere after Hurricane Floyd. There was this chicken out of place and in a giant neighborhood lake.
I had to tell it’s story.
And the kiddos I babysat running around wild in the neighborhood in complete joy.
My sister, my friends, they all became subjects behind my camera. Subjects who shared vulnerability and a story with me.
Even in the years between the high school dream of becoming a photographer. Even in the reality that I had no place in art school, the majoring in outdoor leadership, the tall blond guy I married, and the babies that followed, I couldn’t put my camera down. I told the story of our outdoor leadership class. I photographed my friend’s children’s birthday parties. I cried when within a few weeks of each other, I broke my camera and found out I was pregnant. I squealed delight again when my husband bought my first DSLR and I didn’t even know the journey I would take with that camera.
I never want to just capture a moment. I want to create perspective (Look how tiny!), overwhelm a viewer with emotion, (I can’t believe our baby ever fit in our arms that way), and tell stories with images (We waited so long for this. We love her so much.).
The story of the people I work with is the reason for picking up the lens. To be trusted with a story, even a tiny part of the whole, changes everything. Changes me. Every time. It is history (His-story) being played in wonder right before my very eyes.
This post is the beginning of a larger story that I was chosen to tell.
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A month ago, I met Amanda. She had contacted me regarding a session for her 9 month old. I was just slightly out of the budget she had planned, but I knew I would be doing a set of Baby Mini Sessions in just a bit. I promised to keep Amanda in the loop. She was the first to book.
Amanda marched in my studio reminding me so much of myself a couple years back. She was herding two year old Parker, holding Lydia on her hip, and carrying a little one in a car seat. Her smile showed both exhaustion and excitement.
Two year olds are wild cards on the best day, so I started the session trying to capture some memories with Parker before she got a little too curious. But curiosity wasn’t Parker’s issue (distrust was), so I moved to photographing Lydia very quickly to encourage Parker to see I wasn’t very scary.
Lydia was pretty much a little ham. Gorgeous. Eager. Happy to be dressed and photographed. She was just like every other baby whose story I try to tell.
Yet Lydia’s story included therapy 4 days a week, a mama who dreamed of the best in Lydia so much that she cares for someone else’s baby to help make her dreams for Lydia come true, and the reality of living with an extra chromosome.
Yet this same story was filled with so much love that Lydia vibrates with joy as she smiles.
I knew that with the onset of ultrasound and genetic testing many babies with Down Syndrome like Lydia are often aborted. Amanda and Lydia’s story began opening my eyes to the bigger story that needed to be shared.
There is always more joy than you could imagine holding a child with Down Syndrome than having empty arms.
Amanda made a way for me to document more of these stories and helped me to share them with you. For the rest of October, I’ll be telling these stories with my limited perspective and my 35mm lens.
Sep
23
2015I wanted to create something really special for my Heirloom Session clients.
This beautiful walnut memory box filled to the brim with goodies makes my heart sing.
I hope you’ll adore it too.
