Today is Easter and I’ve got to say, it’s an especially sweet one to me. We chose to name our daughter Lydia Faith before she was born; before we knew she had Down syndrome. Each of our kids has a church song with their name in it that we refer to as “their” song, just for fun. Lydia’s song goes with her middle name: Faith. One night when Lydia was in the NICU, I came home for a quick dinner & to say goodnight to the boys, and found that Dan had put the first line of Lydie’s song up on our letter board. It’s meant as a metaphor to teach children about believing in things you can’t see, but in that moment it was more than that. It was a rallying cry, and an expression of hope and trust in the Savior. For a bit after Lydia’s diagnosis, our world was dark and very painful. There are still moments like that. Fear of the future, concerns about her health, heartbreak over the challenges she faces... But this morning as I sat with my boys around me and Lydia on my lap and we talked about the beauty and significance of Christ’s Atonement and resurrection I just felt so thankful. This life has challenges, some of which are very hard, but this life is not all there is. Because of Him, the sun does rise. Because of Him, one day my daughter’s body will be whole; and until then we are given hope and grace and beautiful learning experiences to get us through. I’m so grateful for that. I know He lives and that through Him we can all live—perfect, whole, and healed in all ways, again. Happy Easter.
Thoughts on World Down Syndrome Day
I’ve always been awkward around people with special needs. Never knowing what to say or how to act. How to relate and not offend. Feeling like it was easier to just avoid interaction and keep us all comfortable. To love and respect at a distance. That was me.
And then I had a daughter with Down Syndrome and my world changed. Drastically. Pushing me way, way out of my norm and my comfort zone.
Over the last three and a half weeks I’ve had the opportunity to care intimately for someone with special needs. To make major decisions regarding her care. To be the resident expert on her. And yes, even to be her advocate. And you know what it’s like? Basically just being a mom to my new daughter.
Not to minimize her diagnosis. It’s also been a three week crash course in Down Syndrome; reading books, meeting with doctors and social workers, arranging tests, and planning for the future. It’s been emotional and eye-opening and life-changing. But one of those life-changing elements has been learning to see with new eyes. To look at my Down Syndrome baby and see… Lydia. Lydia the person, instead of her diagnosis. Lydia with her own personality as a unique member of our family and someone new to love. Just, Lydia.
I’m not an expert on this yet, but I hope that with practice I’ll become one. That some day *Lydia* is all I’ll see. Of course, she’s a newborn, so there is a lot that you just can’t tell, yet. But, while it does profoundly affect our lives, there’s more to her than Down Syndrome.
Who is Lydia?
First, she’s curious. While she still sleeps much of the day, when she is awake she is actively looking around, EVERYWHERE. That little head and those little eyes are going, going, going. Trying to take in the whole world around her. I love that.
Second, you should see this girl do tummy time. I remember subjecting my boys to this most miserable of newborn exercises, and they always gave it a few tries before collapsing in a face plant of infant tears. Yesterday I tentatively put Lydia on her stomach, expecting that with her low muscle tone she wouldn’t be able to do much and would quickly get frustrated. And it’s true, she struggled, but she didn’t give up. She didn’t collapse into tears. She fought. It was pretty remarkable to watch that little girl strain to lift her head, rest, then try again. She didn’t cry. She is fierce and persistent and determined. It amazed me and gave me a lot of hope. We’ll need exactly those attributes.
Finally, there’s a quiet, optimistic peace about this girl that I appreciate. She is gentle and positive by nature, and that is a gift. And she likes to cuddle, which this mama loves.
I’m so new at this. And awkward. And incredibly imperfect and humbled. But if there’s one hope that I have for my daughter and her future, it’s that people will make the effort to get to know her and love her and respect her for who she is: Lydia. And that they’ll allow and encourage her to be her fullest self.
Today I’m grateful for all those who have gone before. For researchers and doctors and interventionists. For parents and teachers and members of society and friends who have realized that people with disabilities are people, first.
And I’m grateful for Lydia. Who came to earth as her own person, and who already is a gift and a blessing and an expert at opening her mother’s eyes.
In the NICU
Our time in the NICU was hard and healing and overall sacred time. We were there long enough to watch several other babies come and go with their families and I admit, I was jealous. Jealous because they got to go home, and sad because I knew that while most of these other infants would outgrow whatever brought them to the NICU, we were different. You don’t just outgrow a major chromosomal abnormality or the complications that come with it. That was hard. But that time was also healing. Lydia was diagnosed at birth. After that shock I found that I could either sit in my room and panic about the future, or I could sit with my baby in the NICU, hold her, get to know her, pray, and think, “This is you. This is me. This is today. We can do today.” We’re still doing that.
Introduction
She’s been here two weeks. It’s impossible to describe the thousands of emotions I’ve felt every day since her arrival. There have been so many prayers, so many tears, and so many tender mercies. Everything is different, but the love we feel is stronger. God’s grace is more desperately sought and given. We count our blessings more, big and small. We are learning. It’s a process. We’re in it together.
Third Pregnancy
32 weeks, 5 days. I’ve never taken a picture like this, before. But I’ve never felt compelled to take a picture like this, before. This pregnancy has moved me in deep ways. This is my third. My first baby girl. Our rainbow baby after a hard miscarriage and long recovery. That alone makes it all significant, but there’s more. I’m a preeclampsia mama. Both of my boys’ deliveries were induced due to complications, putting all subsequent pregnancies at high risk. Of late, this pregnancy seems to be following the same course. I take my blood pressure daily, I pee on sticks at the dr’s office and at home. I worry, a lot. And I pray. For her, for me, for the rest of our family. That we can please do this and it will all turn out all right. I’m not as naive as I used to be. I find myself leaning on God more and more every day. And when I see that belly and feel Baby Girl moving inside, I am so grateful for grace and strength and growth and one more day.
2017 Favorites
2017. So full of good and hard, but mostly people I love, and you can’t ask for more than that. Happy New Year ☀️💛 #2017favorites
Getting Out
Today I would have liked to stay inside, curled up with a book in my bed. But you didn’t need that. You needed out. You needed to run and yell and be free. So we went to the park. As I watched you play and the sun sparkle on the ice, I was cold, yes, but also a little more alive and free, myself.
Gift of Sunshine
One of the best and most humbling parts of parenting is recognizing and learning from your children’s gifts. In spite of a rough beginning in life, this little boy was born with sunshine in his soul. He is an eternal optimist. Daily he reminds me to look on the bright side, often by sharing with me one of his many “isms.” Here are a couple of my favorites: “So that’s great!” As in, “We’re having eggs for breakfast (or some other desperately normal occurrence), so that’s great!” Or “I’m wearing my blue shirt today! So that’s great!” Another one is, “But that’s ok.” As in, “My art project broke, but that’s ok! We can fix it!” Or one that always cracks me up, “I️ hurt my *insert body part*, but that’s ok! No blood!” How I️ love this boy and how God must have known I️ would need his perpetual grins, teases, and happiness to keep this mama going. ❤️
Two Boys
These two and their incredible brother bond. ❤️
Backyard Mallows
One time we tried roasting s'mores in the backyard. Except it was super windy and we had to shelter the fire with the kiddie pool, and ash was blowing everywhere and the mallows tasted not the good kind of smokey so the kids wouldn't even eat them (minus the one kid who eats everything). But it makes for a ridiculous memory. 😜
Pre-Graduation Thoughts
I took a lot of official-looking graduation pictures for this guy, but before I share any of those, I want to share this one. Because this is my guy. Tomorrow there will be pomp and circumstance and fancy pictures, but what I'll be celebrating is eight years of dreams come true. Eight years ago, we had no degrees and lots of lofty goals. We knew it would be hard, but didn't know what that meant. Two kids, eight moves, four states. Grueling academic programs, extra certifications, interviews and resumes and more interviews. Late nights, early mornings. Lousy living arrangements and years away from any family. Working two jobs and going to school full time. Hard WORK. And prayer--so much prayer. Prayer with tears and miracles and grace and more good friends and amazing experiences and growth than we could have imagined. There has been so much change but this guy and God have been my constants through it all. Tomorrow I will probably bawl my eyes out because I am so dang proud of this man. And so very grateful for the ride.
The Kitchen Table
I took out my camera today, like I do many days, but didn't realize how these images would hit me. It happens like that. I remember when we left Colorado and I took a picture of my oldest playing on our wood floors---the floors where my babies learned to walk. That image hit me, too. And here we are, two years later, getting ready to move, and it happened, again. Just an ordinary moment... How many times have we sat at this table and practiced our ABCs or learned how to add? The meals. The crafts. The homework assignments and church lessons. This table will hit storage for awhile when we move, and we'll likely never enter these walls again once we close the door that last time. But we LIVED here. Can the next occupants ever know how much life is wrapped up in these walls? How many ordinary moments mingled with milestones? Who we were and who we became here? Do places remember us when we leave, a bit of our hearts and histories forever beating in their air? This is the table where my babies outgrew booster seats and sippy cups. Where they learned their ABCs. Where a significant chapter of our life--spread out across the country in chronicles--happened. I will miss it.
Welcome!
When I was in college I had a dorky list of “Things that Make Annie Happy” posted above my bed. Silly things like chapstick and mascara and chocolate on graham crackers. These little things (and some serious things, too) are what kept me going through the papers and finals and awkward dating experiences that make up college life. Paying attention to the little things has proven illuminating in my life and years beyond university classrooms, as well. I believe there are times in our lives when we see better than other times. During those times we notice and find joy and purpose in the mundane details. Or perhaps we take time to step back and gain a new or broader perspective. Always we look back on these moments of clarity for purpose and hope. I cherish the moments when I see clearly, and continually work at training my inner eye to notice the details that make life special.
It’s just these details of life, joy, love, and gratitude that I seek to soak into my soul and distill with my camera. I look for them in my own daily life, and I look for them in my photography sessions. These moments, smiles, and sparkles of daily magic are what make us human. And there’s really nothing more beautiful or important to capture than that.
This website features photography from both my personal and client work. Maybe you’ve come to book a session, maybe you're checking in on our latest, or maybe you’re just stopping by for some quiet inspiration. Whatever brings you here, I hope that you stay awhile, look around, and find a thing or two that makes you smile.