MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE

This is the only photograph I have from my first birth.

My husband took it the moment I first saw my son.

I love this photograph. But I wish I had more.

At the time, I thought I would remember everything — the sensations, the little details, the moments in between. But memories fade, and there are parts of that day I can no longer fully remember or piece back together.

My own experience of birth is a big part of why birth photography means so much to me today.

When I was pregnant with my son, I was scared of giving birth. I had heard my mother’s stories about my own birth and the difficult experience she had, and I carried some of that fear with me into my pregnancy.

I trusted that the hospital would guide me through it, and I went into my son’s birth without really understanding how much I would want to feel informed, supported and involved in what was happening.

His birth was very different from what I had imagined. There were interventions, an epidural, forceps and an episiotomy, and there were moments when I felt overwhelmed and disconnected from what was happening around me.

Looking back, I wish I had understood more. I wish I had felt more present. And most of all, I wish I had more photographs of the experience — not just the moment I first met my son, but the story of how we got there.

That experience stayed with me.

Since then, my connection to birth has grown far beyond my own experiences. For more than three years, I have volunteered with Homebirth Australia and Homebirth NSW, becoming part of the wider birth community and spending time alongside families, midwives and birth workers.

It has given me an even deeper understanding of how different every birth can be, and how important it is to feel safe, respected and supported in those moments.

And that's what I bring into every birth I photograph.

I am there to document your story quietly and respectfully, whether your baby is born at home, in a birth centre or in a hospital.

Because I know firsthand how quickly the details of birth can fade. And I don't want you to look back one day and wish you had more.

"It was pouring rain outside — torrential, actually — which felt kind of perfect. The sound of the rain muffled my moans and created this cocoon-like feeling inside our house, nestled among the gum trees. When my midwife arrived, she suggested I get into the pool. The moment I stepped into that warm water, I understood why — it was instant relief. I was crouched in the pool, using my body and breath with purpose. No one was touching me, no one was shouting directions. I was in control, in my own space. I was continually surprised how wonderful labour felt in my own home, with my people and surroundings around me."