If you’ve been around me for more than five minutes, you already know I could talk about birth and babies all day long. It’s truly where my heart is. Becoming both a doula and a birth photographer wasn’t something I planned step by step, it’s something I grew into, one mama and one story at a time.
What many people don’t always see is that this work is deeply personal to me.
My own journey through birth hasn’t been simple or picture perfect. My first birth ended in what I would consider a traumatic experience; an unnecessary C-section that left me feeling unheard, powerless, and grieving an experience I didn’t even realize I was allowed to grieve at the time. My second birth was a planned C-section, not because it’s what I truly wanted, but because I was told I had no other options.
And while I am endlessly grateful for my babies, they are healthy, safe, and here; those experiences still mattered. I was still allowed to mourn what was taken from me. I was still allowed to wish it had been different.
By the time I became pregnant with my third baby, I knew I couldn’t walk into birth the same way again. I decided to take it into my own hands. I educated myself deeply, immersed myself in everything birth related, learned my options, hired a doula who helped me navigate the hospital system and advocate for what was important to me, and found a provider who aligned with me and respected my autonomy.
That birth became incredibly redemptive. I had my first vaginal birth, bringing my 8 pound baby into the world with zero tearing. It was powerful and healing in ways I still don’t have words for. That experience changed me. It sparked a fire inside me to help other mamas be able to also have those same experiences.
I realized how different my previous experience could have been if I had known my options sooner, if I had felt supported, informed, and truly seen from the beginning. I kept thinking about how many women are walking into birth feeling scared, pressured, or unheard, simply because they don’t know what’s available to them or don’t have someone in their corner. That’s when the pull toward this work became undeniable. I didn’t just want to reflect on my own experience, I wanted to be the support I once needed. I wanted to help other mothers feel empowered, informed, and held as they step into one of the most vulnerable and transformative moments of their lives.
I’ve always believed that birth deserves to be honored; not just the “perfect” moments, but the real ones. The strength you don’t realize you have, the tears, the in between moments, the quiet, the holy, the messy… all of it. I get to witness women in the rawest and strongest versions of themselves, and to me, that is sacred.
As a doula, my role is to support you, help you feel informed and confident, and be a steady, grounding presence during one of the biggest days of your life. As a photographer, my job is to preserve the moments you may not even remember happening because you were so deep in the work of bringing your baby earthside; so you can look back and truly see how strong you were.
Doing both at once has honestly become my favorite thing. I get to hold space, read the room, offer reassurance, grab a hand, suggest a position, advocate when needed, or sit quietly when quiet is what you need. And then I get to freeze that strength in time.
Every family I work with teaches me something new. Every birth story is different. And every time I step into a birth space, I’m reminded why this work matters so much to me. It’s not just about “birth day.” It’s the texts, the voice memos, the check ins, the “is this normal?” questions, the postpartum moments, and watching you step into motherhood- whether it’s your first baby or your fifth.
This blog will be another space where I can share stories, resources, education, encouragement, and the behind the scenes of this work I love so deeply. If you’re here, thank you- truly. I’m honored you’re here, and I’m excited to keep sharing this space with you. 🤍
