There was a time when I didn’t know if I would ever have childhood memories to capture. I clearly recall sitting at a friend’s rehearsal dinner watching a slide show of the happy couple. I was 5 months pregnant with our second son just 9 months after losing our first. With tears just behind my eyes and a smile on my face, I sat watching, wondering and longing. As the childhood slides of the bride an groom rolled on, I dreamt of those moments with my own babies. With a broken yet hopeful heart, right then and there I prayed and I begged and I bargained with God.
Please Lord give me a bathtub full. Give me playing in the sprinkler, little boys flexing in super hero underwear, tiny pink nightgowns and Christmas morning bedhead. Give me wrestling siblings, blowing out birthday candles, t-ball games and tutus. Give me giggles, cookie baking, mud boots and spaghetti faces. Please Lord, give me moments of my own.
Thinking about how desperate those pleas were still take my breath away. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t capture these moments. And with every photograph, I am thankful for the memories, for answered prayers and dreams come true.
Never give up hope.