OK, I’m ready. Ready to take on the new year; it took a few weeks for me to get on-board, but here I am. Ready for new inspiration, ready to make and remake connections, ready to fail and get back up, and above all ready to succeed. To be happy, to be more, to be me. I’m ready now, 2015. You’ve knocked me down a few times already but I’m ready to move on, thankyouverymuch.
2014 was awesome. I met so many amazing people, tried so many new things, and really grew in my craft and my spirit. I jumped on-board some amazing charity organizations and have been utterly fulfilled in both giving back and photographing so many of your beautiful moments. Thank you all so much for trusting me, confiding in me, and growing with me. I value my relationship with all of you!
Things have been relatively quiet around here the past couple months. Not what I had planned–I have SO many wonderful sessions to blog, and share, and so many ideas to get growing; but sometimes life has other plans.
I thought about ignoring my awkward social pause in life and keeping my private life private, but I’ve been pretty forthcoming with most of my life, and while I just want to really turn to the corner and keep it all inside I realized that there was no reason to be ashamed, and really, this is how I heal:
Sessions kept me busy until the beginning of December! Usually my season dies down come November but not this year! And that was awesome!! However, early November, I found out I was pregnant! Amongst getting my work done, and getting things turned around in time for the holidays, the little person inside me was sucking the life out of me! I was very sick, and very tired–way worse than the first time around. But I figured it’d pass and I’d catch up with things after the holiday..my priority has always been my family, and so taking care of this new little addition became #1.
After a whirlwind good/bad holiday season, we came home from our travels on Sunday January 4th (my birthday!! WOOT WOOT) and things seemed a little off for me. I called my doctor on Monday and they advised me to come in. My husband and I clutched hands as we got a second ultrasound–hoping that the harder we might squeeze, the more positive the results. But after a few minutes of silence our fears were realized. There was no more heartbeat, and our little person would grow no more.
I didn’t know how much I loved and how much I had already planned for the child I was growing until I laid through the deafening silence while the tech frantically searched for that little glimmering heart.
The next thing I remember I was on my knees in the bathroom, completely numb with sadness, and with what-could’ve-beens. I didn’t care how normal the nurse thought this may be for women, it didn’t feel normal to me at all. We had just told our entire family, we had just discussed plans for the months ahead, we had promised our daughter a baby brother or sister (try explaining this to a two-year-old!). And now, nothing. They tell you it’s nothing you did, but that seems impossible. There was just simply nothing normal about laying on an operating table, unaware, while the baby you’ve loved impossibly and so quickly gets removed and is truly no more.
As people begin to hear, slowly they confide their own stories of loss and love. And so yes, it does seem more ‘normal’. But it’s a little unnerving how ‘quiet’ people keep it. . . the shame and fault women feel. I realize much of it is social stigma, I now know an even bigger part is grief and the grieving process. My own perception has changed drastically. Until you live a few days feeling as pregnant as ever with the baby you’ve loved endlessly since day 1 knowing it’s not growing or living, you can’t imagine the loss. I never expected to feel so impossibly lost if this ever happened to me.
After the surgery, as we pulled out of the parking lot, my heart began to ache and suddenly I felt something I was all too familiar with. It hit me quick and hard. Suddenly I felt like the broken self I was two years ago when as we drove away from the hospital without my first born. Two times now, I’ve gone into that hospital pregnant, and two times I left without my baby. (read more about tessa’s birth story here)
I’m typically a silent sufferer. I mend and heal alone, I want to be alone, I don’t want to talk. But in this instance, it was hard to do that. All the people closest to us knew. And as others inquired, I made myself promise not to keep this a secret. Because, why? Women should know they aren’t alone. That no one can understand what they felt or feel when they go through an early loss the way others that have gone through it can. If you were one of the few wonderful people in our lives that reached out and showed us love, thank you. It really meant more than I would have ever expected.
I still get sad and unreasonable at times. And I’m sure I will always revisit that feeling when I think of it, or comb over this chapter in my life; but it’s just another step in my journey to grow from and learn from and I’ll be grateful for that and try to use it in a way that it will make a difference in another persons life.
And so, I’m back. Finally coming up for air. While I’m miserably disappointed that I cancelled all my late spring/early summer weddings and will miss capturing those awesome moments terribly this year, I know it was the best decision for my clients at the time. Meanwhile, I am moving on, and moving forward and an willing to book any 2015 weddings that may come my way…and of course portraits!! On my wish list for this year is to capture a live birth! So if you know anyone who would like to have their birth experienced captured for free or extremely discounted, send them my way! Also, I’d love to do a project for Fotolanthropy. If you know anyone who has a truly inspiring story to tell, please let me know!