In the spirit of...

Our family has been very busy these past few weeks. My schedule hasn't changed, I am still working the same, so I'm not quite sure why it has felt so hectic lately. I have also had more and more opportunities to photograph, so that could also be our culprit. It's Halloween, and we are headed out for some much needed family time and I love it, the kids love it and I hope you find time today or tonight to love on your children. Somewhere, some parent is standing vigil over their child in a hospital, wishing for the rush of door to door trick or treating. We all know how silly these holidays can be, and how they can be such an annoyance at times with all the preparations we all feel the need to have, but we are lying to ourselves if it isn't a tad bit for us too. I love to see my kids faces when they are having fun. I love to see them laughing when they are in the company of family joy. When they are robbed of that, whether it's because of weather or unforeseen circumstances...or heaven forbid sickness, hospital bound sickness...it saddens me. We are so fortunate to not have that as a variable in our lives, and I pray for you families who have been robbed this evening. Happy Halloween, here is hoping you can find the BOOtiful in your evening.

In the spirit of all the holidays that are so fast approaching, this sweet family requested some photos of their little brood, and of course I said yes. These are a few of my faves. 

My sacrifice...

As I got ready to leave for work last week, I told him "I know you're going to call me". He assured me that he wouldn't, and they went about their evening routine like mommas worries were just that, mommas worries. While at work, I began to wind down the beginning part of my shift, and my phone rang. I knew it. Right then and there, I just knew it. His fever had spiked to 104F and I was not there. My work and home personality are very similar, I am essentially the same woman. However, when poop hits the fan at work, I am calm. I have been present for some very high stress situations, and somehow I can navigate through the situation just fine. It is exhilarating, the sense of urgency I have underneath my demeanour, and I love it. This call however, the 2 seconds of undertone in his speech, that...I COULD NOT HANDLE. I lose my shit, to be quite frank. The list appears in my brain, and instinctively I run it down quickly with Marcus..."did you...did he...have you...has he...", and like clockwork, his reply is slow and it takes all of my mental strength to not throw the phone down, run to my car and drive home. But I can't. Because just on the other side of the wall, there is a baby lying in a warmer, who has just had surgery. She is slow to recover, very sick and her mom sits at her side, weeping audibly. She is in no position to drive, she has no support and is broken. This is the face of my profession. It is this truth that jolts me still. For the better part of my life I have been a mother and I am also a wife. From time to time, I have been known to be a friend. And my family would still consider me to be a daughter and sister. But for three nights a week, I am not allowed to be any of those things. I can't be any of those things. And as perspective begins to weigh me down, it also ultimately anchors my emotions. It calms my insides and allows me to move forward and find a solution for our son. And as I pull myself together and walk back into my patients room, I know that I am not allowed to be sad for my child, for I must only show compassion for this baby and her mom. I am not allowed to grieve my sons inability to sleep, for I must show them endless hope. I cannot share my son's personal story of sickness, for I must show this mother that the only baby that is important to me right now, is her daughter. Because it is. I am committed to be present for 12hrs at the bedside of some of the sickest children in our city. And I do it.

***pls note, the dipiction of the characters described are of a fictitious nature and only serve as an illustration of what a pediatric ICU may look like from time to time***

It seems I have had more and more opportunities to photograph lately, and I am not complaining...one single bit. I work with Callyn and she requested some photos of her brood together before they became a family of 6. Here are a few of my faves // #CALLYNallgirls

ps...the 4th is a surprise sex, but my money is on a girl, hence my hashtag, lol.

In my flesh...

I lost it. I was waiting for it, truth be told. I let it happen, spoke it into existence and let the sins of my past wash over me. With my youngest at my hip and my ego on the horizon, I lost it. I allowed myself to get dark and proud. Who am I? I am notorious for saying that when people are at their worst, believe them, because that is who they really are. I have treaded in that very pool of truth before, and I was there this morning. As we pulled into the parking lot of the football fields, Adan said, "I don't have a good feeling about this game," and I asked him why, and he said he just didn't think it was going to be a good game. I told him to just have fun because that is what matters and if he has to throw the ball, throw it to his friends. And that was that, except that it wasn't. If his game was any premonition of what was to come, I did not heed it's warning. I had an exchange of words with an opponents mom, raised my voice and used horrible judgement. The worst part was, I had "enough sense" mid arguement to realize I still had my work jacket on, with my employers name stitched just below the lapel. And I thought to myself, "what example am I setting, I may one day take care of her child?!?" And it was that very thought that catapulted my spirit emotionally still. I fought it, His/God's voice. He silenced me...eventually. He reminded me that it is His love stitched in me that should anchor my compass. Allowing that to be what is visible for all to see, that is what matters most. Except that it wasn't, not this morning and I am ashamed. Turns out, I am who I am at my worst, and that is okay. I am grateful that I had the "better sense" of my seed, weigh greater in me. I am even more grateful to have said "yes" to it, before we left. I found her, walked up to her and told her I was sorry for acting that way. Whether she accepted my apology or not, I will never know. What I do know is, His perfect Glory goes before me and His love is, was and always will be...forever.

Our yearn...

It burned. It began to bubble inside of me, and I could not contain it. So I quickly turned away, and starred out of the window as Marcus drove us all home. I was feeding the boys some snacks, and realized I was gonna fall mighty short, given their appetites. As the last scoop of yogurt was placed in Adan's mouth, he asked, "is that it?". Uninhibited in my response and sustained in my moment, "yes" was the truth, so that is what I told him. Just as quickly as the words left my mouth, the feeling came over me. You see, somewhere in that very moment, there was a mom struggling to scoop something, anything into her child's mouth. She is scraping whatever remnants she has available to feed her hungry children. And as I starred out of the window and caught a glimpse of my reflection, I could see her. She loves her children. To provide their bare necessities is a struggle for her. It broke my heart, knowing that it is not a struggle for me. My heart ached at the thought that "this snack" wasn't going to satiate my children in the interim of the commute. It was a palpable emotion and I broke down, hid my tears from my family, but nonetheless, I cried. Not for me, but for her.

Being a mother is the most special job I have ever had. I remember my oldest sister telling me how I would soon miss Adan inside my body once he was born. I thought she was ridiculous. Turns out she was right. Our bodies are the most precious and badass building machines. So when someone asks me to photograph them while they are in the heart of their infrastructure, I oblige. These are a few of my faves from #expectKING maternity...