Rainy Day Bath

Back at it. And what better place to start than with an awesomely themed session?!

This little nut is my cousin's daughter. I've only been photographing her since..well..her first breath! She is SO.MUCH.FUN. Like, seriously. Due to living WAY too far away from me, she only gets to see me about once every three or four months. In baby time, I might as well be a stranger. But she warms up super quickly, and I think she might actually be starting to recognize me by the lens attached to my face.

I knew we wanted to get a few regular shots of this goofball, despite the persistent rain the ENTIRE day. But I also wanted to do something special with her. Something fun. A little experimenting for possible future sessions? And she LOVED it! It was perfect! Eeek! SO FLIPPIN' PERFECT! We set up under a big tree, threw a tarp down under the quilt, dressed my camera in a Ziplock bag, and my bro-in-law followed my every move (well, most of them anyway) with the biggest umbrella I've ever seen. My sister was getting married the following day and then we were hitting the road to find the ocean the next. It was TORTURE not being able to sit and edit all of these immediately! PURE TORTURE I tell you.

So enough babbling...

 

<3

Carry On.

Truth be told, I was nervous to post my last blog entry. Really, super nervous. This is my business blog and what I posted about was NOT business related at all. Is it safe to mix my growing business with my personal life? Was that choice a sound, solid, go-forward choice? Yep. It was. No regrets. No looking back. It's done. Posted. A story told. A MASSIVE story told. So now what? A follow up.

I clearly had NO idea how many responses I would get to the last post, but my email inbox, my Facebook messages, my Twitter account, and even my voice mail and texts were out of control! Between all of them, I have close to 75 responses from women who have experienced and lived through the loss of a child in one form or another. Many of these women have NEVER spoken about their own loss. Many of them did not feel comfortable posting publicly on the blog, so I will share a few of the tidbits anonymously for them here. These are the ones that truly hit home:


"I have had 3 ectopic pregnancies with the last one being last may. I have now lost both of my tubes etc. We did get our miracle baby who's now 5 after my second ectopic through IVF."

 "It is like it all never happened now."

"You are a strong person for talking about it, because it does hurt."

"Now that I am going through it myself I am hearing about people who have had miscarriages and I never had any idea."

"We've had a very difficult time getting pregnant in the first place so for it to happen, and then be snatched away, felt like a really cruel joke."

"My Mom spoke to me last week about her eight children. She has been very confused lately. So I said, "Seven, Mom, seven and one miscarriage." She looked at me and with a little smile said, 'No, eight.' A mother always knows."

"I felt alone, I felt damaged, I felt wrong."

"It took a long time for me to realize that this is something that happens a lot, and you're right. It shouldn't."

"A part of our future slipped by and perpetually broke our heart along the way, and with few - to no - reasons or answers."

"For every mother that has lost a baby, there is a father that has lost a baby."

"It’s hard and I always felt like a failure, but I know things happen and there’s no good reason."

"I had a miscarriage (between my other two) and I was JUST thinking about that baby today."

Thank you to those of you who have shared the previous post. Without the passing of the link, this never would have reached so many women. Many of whom needed to read it in order to heal themselves. And thank you to all of the women who have come to me to share their own stories. You have helped me begin to create the new patch that will sit on my heart. 

With Mother's Day weekend having just ended, I want to remind all of those momma's to celebrate. Celebrate through the tears, hold on to what you have, and remember what you've lost. Keep getting up in the morning. Keep getting dressed. And carry on.

  

 "May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground. Carry on." - Fun

A Tragic "Norm"

Today, I get personal. I get real. Real like I've never gotten here. While this is my business blog and I usually just boast about my gorgeous clients and all of the fun we have together, today will be different. Today, I will be writing (and hopefully discussing later), about subject matter that I am too much of an expert on. I have more experience than anyone should ever have. I am way over-qualified now and there's no turning back. This post is dedicated to loss. Specific loss. The loss of a baby. Or babies. Or, if it makes you feel better, the loss of a pregnancy.

While I often showcase my amazing little girls here, as well as on my Facebook page, I never tell about the babies who were here before them. It's not a good business tactic. You know, it's not cheery and fun to talk about what you don't have anymore. So I push it out of my mind, bringing it up once in a while with my husband, and possibly dropping the term "miscarriage" in random conversations with friends. But they were here. Inside of me. Growing there like normal little babies. Until I lost them. One around 9 weeks (although I carried it until close to 12 weeks), and the next around 6 weeks.

I was a statistic. My babies were statistics. 1 in 4. We were in that category. Miscarried.

No one had a reason. No one knows why it happens. It just does.

Two years later, I had two monkeys to hold onto. My husband and I dove headfirst into parenting with these two peanuts being 14 months apart. But still, not a single day went by without me thinking of my other two babies. How old would they be? What would they be doing right now? Were they boys or girls? What if they were here with us? What if...? And I would swallow back the tears. Again.

And on the rare occasion my husband and I would have a moment alone where we weren't already half asleep and covered in snot and poop, we would talk about those babies. And he would hold me. Because that's all he could do. And we would cry. And then he would take me by the hand and lead me to where our girls were sleeping (usually right in the middle of our bed), and we would watch them breathe. Their chests going up and down. And all was okay again. Peace.

Three weeks ago, something felt weird. My body just didn't feel right. Not bad. Just "off". The next day, we found our family of four was going to be a family of five. Wow. We weren't expecting this. But we know, you don't ask questions, you just roll with it. We have had enough tests in life to know you don't look back. And another baby? Oh.My. How I love those babies. And the hubs? Oh, he loves those babies too. So, we were going to have a baby. In a tiny house that the four of us are already too big for. But it's a baby. And that baby would be sleeping in our bed anyway (Yes, we co-sleep. Say nothing of it and I won't say anything about abandoning a baby in a giant empty room by itself all night), and we already have a van. So all we needed was a car seat and some diapers and we were good to go. No problem. We were ready.

Due to our previous losses, we didn't tell. We waited a few days to tell any of our family and we certainly were not going to tell our kids. You see, when you experience these great losses, you have the unfortunate side of not only grieving yourself, but also watching your loved ones grieve for you. It is that much more painful to go through. I can't stand watching anyone hurt, and if there is a way that I can shield them from the pain, I will do it. So when we did tell our immediate family, it was only after two rounds of blood work and five positive pregnancy tests. But they were also sworn to secrecy, as we couldn't handle the thought of any of our nieces and nephews knowing this early.

Last Friday, we went to have our ultrasound and meet my new doctor. We went into this appointment like we went in to all of them. Expecting the worst. We had prepared ourselves. Our brains and hearts were already on guard and ready for disappointment.We headed to the ultrasound room, where I popped up on the table. I took a few deep breaths and the hubs held my hand, both of us squeezing tightly. The tech walked in and began the ultrasound.

She was silent for a few moments. Longer than she should have been. I could tell she was searching. I knew. In my heart, I knew. So did the hubs. I felt it in his breathing. Her first words were "I'm worried about this spot right here. Do you see this?" Yes. We saw that. Right there. We saw that baby. She saw that baby. Our baby. Our 5th baby. There it was. Growing perfectly. Getting big. Right there in my left fallopian tube. She flipped the switch on the sound. There's the heartbeat. The perfect heartbeat. Beating like a drum. Like music. She apologized as I sobbed and turned it back off. She said it was necessary. It was. I asked her to turn it back on. She showed me the circulatory system. Lighting up perfectly. Everything flowing exactly the way it is supposed to. Perfect. Everything about it was perfect. And I sobbed some more. She turned it all off and went for the doctor.

This was my first meeting with the new guy. He was coming in to schedule my surgery. To tell me to head to the hospital right now. No stops. No going anywhere. They were waiting for me. I was like a ticking bomb. About to rupture at any second. Because my fallopian tube was housing our 5th baby that was growing rapidly just as it should be around 8 weeks. "What can we do for you?" he asked. I wanted the picture. The picture of our baby. The ultrasound tech happily obliged. And I wasn't going straight to the hospital. I was going to see my other two babies first. I was going to look at their faces and try not to scare them. I was going to hug them and kiss them. And then I would go to the hospital.

And that's what I did.

I stayed in the hospital that night by myself. I instructed the hubs to take my girls out and spoil them rotten. Just as I would do. Just as we always do. When they came to visit me that night, they smelled of the Hibachi grill where they ate steak and they were headed to the mall for a late night flip-flop shopping spree. And probably for a cookie. You can't leave the mall without one.

The next morning, I headed to surgery. When I woke up, I was less a fallopian tube, half of an ovary, and a baby. It was gone. Just like that. The perfect heartbeat. The perfect circulatory system. Gone.

Now what? Where do we go from here? Another recovery. More questions. More anger.

Here's what I want to know: Why are more women not sharing about this? Why did I not know when I "miscarried" my first baby that this was "normal"? Why did I only know of one or two people who had a loss like this? Why has no one ever told me of their ectopic pregnancy? I know lots of people!!! Not one of them has ever told me a story like this. Yet all of the doctors promise me this is "normal". And if it's so "normal" WHY is it "normal"? This should not be something that happens in 1 out of 4 pregnancies. This should not happen in 1 out of 50 pregnancies. Why is there no solution yet? All I hear is how common these situations are, yet I have spoken with NO ONE who has had these things happen to them.

Is no one talking about it because it's taboo? Is it a subject no one wants to hear about? Does it make you uncomfortable to read about it? If it makes you uncomfortable to read about, then shouldn't we be discussing it? Shouldn't we be researching this? Is it possible with all of the technology and science out there that one day we will be able to pick up that perfect baby with that perfect heartbeat growing in that tube and implant it in a healthy uterus? Why can't we?

Here's the thing about all of this. I didn't know. We didn't know. Even my family (who is heavy on nurses and other various medical personnel) didn't expect anything like this. Not with any of them. Both "miscarriages" and an ectopic. A mystery. It's just the "norm". It's just what happens. But to me, it's not acceptable. As a society, awareness should be spread. We hear about infertility. They have drugs to help. They have procedures to help. Or at the very least, give hope. There's been research. Developments. But where are the developments on housing a perfect embryo when it implants a few centimeters from where it's supposed to? And why do I know no one who has had this happen before?

Tragic. A "normal" tragedy.

I would love to open the discussion on the blog. Please comment below with your thoughts on the subject. I welcome ALL stories on the matter and would love to hear your input. 

xx Megan

It was a long, cold winter...

I don't like winter. At all. It makes me an angry person. I didn't used to be like this. I think now that I'm older, I truly understand the impact the cold has on my body. I ache for months. Physically hurt! My ears hurt. My skin hurts. My bones hurt. The cold digs under my skin around December 1st and doesn't let go until we've had a couple of weeks of sunshine and 65+ degree weather. In Kentucky (particularly Louisville, since we've got this river siting here and all), this release into Spring could be anywhere between March 1st and May 1st. Really, there is no predicting it. Not even with the use of a groundhog.

The session I am featuring here was scheduled for a couple of weeks before it actually took place. It should have been Spring. It was supposed to be warm(er), and things were to be blooming. Tulips should have been popping up, blossoms should have been hanging out on the trees, and that warm Spring sun should have been warming my soul. Instead, it was freezing cold (literally) and raining. And then it snowed. Again. In late, late March. So a reschedule it was. And oh, how thankful I am for that reschedule. This is what it should have been all along. There's the sun. Warmth. Color. This late budding Spring was worth the wait this year, as it has produced some of my favorite images ever.

Visions, love, water, barns...What more could I ask for?

Whadaya know?! It's Friday and I'm blogging! This doesn't happen very often! I was flipping through my workflow this afternoon and realized that I hadn't featured these gorgeous people yet. So while this post will be brief, I must do it now, before my mommy-wife-aunt-sister-daughter brain takes over again.

This couple will be walking down the aisle soon, and I can't even tell you how much I LOVE watching a wedding day unfold. When first meeting with them, they had a few things in place, and of course the bride-to-be had her visions. But then during their engagement session, I got to hear more about the little details. All of those tiny details that help to create the atmosphere and mood. The details of colors and flowers and invitations. Oh, and most importantly, the details of the HONEYMOON!!! Super jealous of their plans!

I can't to celebrate their big day with them!

 

Dirt and rocks? Sure.

Another Monday. Another week gone. Another new beginning. And another burst into blogging.

At the beginning of the new year, I PROMISED myself I would make a GREAT attempt at blogging each session. I kind of strayed away from that, but I'm not going to let it get to me. Nope. Back on the horse. Right back on. And where else to begin but with these amazing little kiddos. I have been chasing these babes around since Little Bit's first birthday, and with each session, they just get better and better! One of the best parts of my job is watching your kids grow and develop.

BTW: This location? FABULOUS. I did 3 shoots there one weekend and never used the same area twice. PERFECT. And while I usually don't start with an outtake, this one is well deserving. LOVE.HER.FACE. And I'm sure little sisters around the world are looking at their big brothers with the exact same expression.

Oh, the smiles this kiddo has are contagious!

 Classic examples as to why I don't "pose" your children. If I did, you wouldn't get "real" images like these. So instead of "posing", I simply make suggestions. And if your 2 year old doesn't like my suggestions, then I go with what they want to do. Dig in the dirt with a stick? Go for it! Play with rocks? Absolutely!

Happy Monday, guys!

Negative Ninnies and Rainbows

Oh, Monday. I usually enjoy my Monday mornings. I feel like it's a new beginning, and I REALLY like new beginnings. There's so much hope and excitement for the week.

This Monday morning, however, has thrown me for a loop. All weekend long, I suffered from what other people are referring to as vertigo. I refer to it as the never ending drunk that I didn't ask for. Seriously, people, if you have never experienced this, I will tell you honestly that I would rather relive the 42 hours I spent in labor with my first daughter than do this again. At least on the end of it, I was holding an awesome little piece of the world. With this, I stumble away with ear aches and a massive hangover.

In the midst of all of this head-swirling I did, I was also bombarded with several negative ninnies. Very, very negative ninnies. The kind you'd like to throw your shoe at. I live in reality. I live in the reality of great possibilities. Maybe I'm old school. Maybe I am just excited to see people succeed and to reach for their goals and dreams. Maybe I'm living in a world of rainbows and butterflies? But really, when it comes right down to it, I am a POSITIVE person. I want people to be happy. I want to be happy myself and to feel proud.

When I sat down to write this post, I was prepared to shell out all of the gory details that the negative ninnies brought to me. It was all going to be splattered right here on this page for all to see. But now that I'm this far in, and with all the positive people talk, I'm just not going to do it. Nope. I will go back to the land of rainbows and butterflies and believe in the human race. And I will be happy to nurse this vertigo hangover with these pictures of rainbows.

 

All better now. Back to my happy Monday. 

"Once you replace negative thoughts with positive ones, you'll start having positive results." - Willie Nelson