A Birth Story I Won't Forget

Being on call for birth is one of the most exhilarating, heart-pounding aspects of my career—the anticipation, the unknown, the sacred privilege of witnessing new life enter the world. It’s a rush like no other, and every birth carries its own unique story.

This spring brought me a first that I’ll never forget.

On the morning of March 18th, I woke up with an unshakable sense of anxiety—no clear reason why, just a feeling deep in my chest. And then, at 9:10 AM, Alana’s husband called. The moment I saw his name flash across my screen, I knew. I knew I wasn’t going to make it in time. My heart dropped, but my instincts kicked in.

I rushed out the door, driving with one mission: to get there, somehow, before the first breath.

As I pulled into their driveway, I didn’t hesitate. I ran to the door, knocked once, and let myself in. Upstairs, I could hear Alana—her voice, strong and raw, echoed through the house. The sounds of a baby entering this world.

I sprinted up the stairs, grabbed my camera in a blur, and managed to capture the moment—mother and baby, meeting for the very first time. The raw emotion, the instant bond, the love. Then, the first look between Alana and her husband—pure magic. These are the moments I live for, the ones I always strive to document. I feel beyond blessed that I made it in time to freeze them forever.

After birth, I stayed with Alana to provide postpartum support while her husband took their little one to the hospital to ensure he could breathe on his own. It was a whirlwind—an incredibly fast birth, followed by some complications. But through it all, their strength was undeniable.

And now? They’re home, together, safe, and surrounded by love—officially a family of four.