I wish…I had known about birth photography four years ago when my last child was born.
I wish…someone had warned me that between all the nerves, excitement, pain, exhaustion, and exuberant joy, that the entire experience would become a blur.
I wish…someone had told me that I probably wouldn’t remember my daughter’s first cry or the first time I held her.
I wish…someone had mentioned that I definitely wouldn’t remember the expression on my husband’s face when he saw her for the first time.
I can kind of still remember the pain…I’m not even gonna lie! But I don’t know how I looked as I powered through each contraction. I don’t remember what I did to prepare myself for the next one. Was I standing or laying down? Did I grab onto something or squeeze my husband’s hand? Did I internalize the pain or make that primal moan that birthing mothers sometimes make?
I don’t remember any of the conversation or funny moments I had with my husband that day. I don’t remember the look on his face while I was pushing or when she came out. I have NO idea what I looked like when that 9lb 6oz baby came out after 18 hours of labor (but who’s counting) and an hour of pushing. Did we laugh? Did we both cry? No clue. Was I exhausted or elated? Probably both?
I don’t remember my daughter’s first cry. I don’t really remember the first time I held her. And afterwards, while I was getting cleaned up, my husband followed the nurses into another room where my daughter was weighed, measured, had foot prints taken, etc. I missed all of it and he wasn’t thinking to take pictures.
I don’t remember my midwife’s name or any of the nurses…or nursing students for that matter (it was a full house in our room that day, that much I remember!).
I don’t know who visited us first, what their expressions were like when they walked in and saw her or when they held her for the first time. And…I don’t remember the look on my older daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister for the first time. This one breaks my heart the most.
I don’t have photos that captured any of those moments, and those memories aren’t coming back. Every once in a while, I’ll tell my daughters what I do remember of their birth stories, and doing that keeps those memories somewhat fresh. But I desperately wish I knew what a birth photographer was back then and had hired her to capture those moments. I would have wanted her there to tell the story of the day my life changed forever. The day I became a mom.
How do you want to remember your birth story? With blurry, grainy, low resolution images that your spouse took on their phone when he remembered to amid all the chaos of the day? Or with professional, stunning, hand-edited images that you can print in album to have and hold forever? Don’t make the same mistake I did. Hire a birth photographer and invest in your family’s memories.