Skip to main content

I delivered my first baby at 36 weeks and although it was an uneventful labour, I didn’t have many images to celebrate the incredible journey of growing a mini human. The moment I found out I was pregnant with my second, I considered the opportunity of hiring a birth photographer. I spent my whole pregnancy going back and forth on the idea. The main thing holding me back from booking was the insane cost involved. Money was incredibly tight for us with my partner having to take a lot of time off work to help through my high-risk pregnancy, and ultimately, we put birth photography in the luxury category of things we just couldn’t afford.


I knew in my heart that I wasn’t going to make it to full term, but I brushed it off thinking that it would be another smooth birth around 36 weeks just like my first. My partner works in the mines and his first swing back at work after a month off, I had to deliver the phone call we were all hoping wouldn’t happen.


“Babe, I’m in labour, you need to get home”.

I was 31+5, my membranes were separating, and I was contracting. My partner got on the next flight home and met me at the hospital. I had elected my mother-in-law to be my second support person and she stayed by my side until my partner arrived. I had been in labour about 30 hours when my partner arrived at the hospital. He held my hand and assured me that everything was going to be ok, that our son would be a little warrior. I know he was absolutely petrified himself, but he never showed an ounce of fear. I was tired, but I was still in good spirits.


I was restless and exhausted, although the contractions were one on top of the other, progress was incredibly slow. My waters were still intact, and I was preterm, both contributing factors to chose not to have medical interventions to speed things along. I was reaching on 64 hours of labour when pure exhaustion hit, and I decided an epidural was my best shot at ensuring I had enough energy to push when the time came.


Ding, ding, ding. Alarm bells started sounding and this is where things start to become a bit hazy. My room filled with countless medical staff in a sea of unrecognizable faces. We had lost the heartbeat and a code blue was called. My partner and mother in law got pushed to the edges of the room as they decided a c section, then and there in birth suite was the only option to save my baby. Just as they were starting, an OB that was still between my legs screamed forceps and just like that, my baby was delivered sunny side up. He wasn’t breathing and needed resus. Waiting what felt like an eternity when he let out his first cry. He was held in the air for the briefest of moments before being rushed out of my room to NICU.


A few hours later, my partner returned with just a single image of our son. He was hooked up to all the machines keeping him alive. I missed out on skin to skin, I missed out on his weights and measurements and missed out on being the first hand he held.


Healing from a traumatic birth is a long painful process and it’s only now that I realise how important to me those birth images would have meant. I honestly would go back and literally sell body parts if it meant that we prioritised images in our new baby budget because it is a moment that deserves to be captured and cherished.

-Aileen Jessica Miller|||||||

Praise From
Our Happy Clients

Passionate & Authentic

Maine Photographer

Capturing the Moment for Brides, Mothers, Seniors, & Families

Passionate & Authentic

Maine Photographer

Capturing the Moment for Brides, Mothers, Seniors, & Families

Get Started View Portfolio