Category Archives: Birth

May 04 2012

You’ll Want To Touch It | Cincinnati Child + Family Photographer

You haven’t experienced an album until you experience a Dream album.  This is a fact.

Your images should be displayed, whether that is in the form of an album, framed prints or a gallery wrapped canvas.  The choice is up to you, but please, my friends.  Pleeeeaaase.  For the love of Peter, don’t let your digital images just sit on the CD, collecting dust.

Pshaw.  Tsk-tsk, my friend Jackie would say.

Print them.  Display them.  Show them off.  Be proud of them.  I want you to look at your images every. single. day.  And have your heart feel happy.

Over the past 5 years, I have tried many different album companies (5?… 6?), and the Dream Album Company, in my humble opinion, is the absolute best.  When the UPS man knocks on my door, it’s like Christmas every time.

Here’s a recent 9×9 album that I designed for a client.  You’ll want to touch it.

The dense, 2 mm thick archival fuji pages are handcrafted from artisan Japanese paper.  It’s not your typical album.  At all.  Have a looksie…

The albums are so beautiful and unique (I feel a wee bit like a car salesman, and if you know me, you know that I am so not salesman-like).  They truly are beautiful.  Each is a work of art.  I wish you could reach through the screen and touch the quality.  I love these albums.  Can ya tell?  Yes?  Yes.

The cover is waterproof and so durable.  And I don’t know how they do it, but it doesn’t attract fingerprints (and I have a lot of little fingerprinting fingers up in here).

The seamless binding allows the album to open flat into one big spread.  Here are a few 2-page spreads from the same album.

Can you picture it?  The album is open and lying flat here, and I’m shooting from above.  Got me?  Good.

The Dream Album shows off your photos with such impact and impeccability (here I go again, all salesman-like).  I am proud to offer these albums in three different sizes: 6×6, 9×9 and 12×12.  One day, I’ll have one for each of my 3 kids.  One day.  When I hire a full time nanny, a cleaning lady and I sit around and eat bon bons all day.;)

xo

Christi

P.S. Want to see them in person?  Here’s how it works: I come to your house.  We do a photo session (a.k.a. family snuggle-fest, tickle-me-silly party, bed-jumping extravaganza).  I digitally edit and perfect each photo for your viewing presentation.  I come back to your house.  I bring with me samples of albums.  You ooooh and ahhhhh and tell me that I was right about the Dream albums [wink, wink].  You can be in your jammies, with your feet up, enjoying a nice glass of red.  Sounds pretty great, huh?  It is.  Want to read more about what a photo session is like?  Click here.

P. P. S. Thanks for the well wishes the other day.  Baby’s stomach bug is gone and all is well.  He’s back to crawling all over this place and getting into everything.  And when I say everything, I mean everything. Saddest moment of the day ——> when he crawled up, and got stuck under the end table for the 14th time.  Tears.  And anger.  What Mom doesn’t rescue her baby right away, but laughs and snaps a photo?  I couldn’t help myself.


Nov 29 2011

No-Paci Babies And Leaving On Jet Planes | Cincinnati Child + Family Photographer

2 things I would like to say:

1) Why is it that I always, ALWAYS wait until the last minute to pack for a trip.  T minus 4 hours until we leave this sleepy little town and head for San Diego.  And I haven’t packed yet.  Someone come save me from myself.  I annoy myself to no end when I do this.

2) All 3 of my babies are paci-babies.  They love(d) their pacis.  Pacis were their BFFs.  We would call out “paci, paci, paaaaaaaaci!” in the house when they were lost.  2 year old little diaper bottoms, hunting for their pacis.  Paaaaaaaci!  I can still hear Mac yelling for his.  But if someone would have told me that I could have had this?

I would have never given a paci to any of them.

Oh my.

He makes me melt right into a puddle.

xoxo

Christi


Oct 24 2011

This Face | Cincinnati Baby Photography

This little face.

It keeps me busy.  Like 20 out of 24 hours.

But I kiss it.

This face.

At least 147 times a day.

xo

Christi


Jul 29 2011

It’s Baby Time | Cincinnati Child + Family Photography

It’s midnight.  And I have to get up in 4 hours.  To welcome our sweet baby into this world.  But I can’t sleep.  Not yet.

Not before I publicly declare that this baby?  This baby that we’ll meet in just a few hours means so much.  I know.  I know I’ve said it lots.  How excited we are.  How loved this baby is.  But I must say it once more: This baby symbolizes so much for us.  And I am overwhelmed at the thought of meeting him.  Of loving him.  Of our family of 4 becoming a family of 5.

This trust in God, this faith that has grown and changed in ways that I couldn’t have fathomed – it is the foundation that makes life worth living.  And I am grateful.  Grateful beyond words.  To soon be a Mommy to not 2, but to 3 wonderful (I can’t even think right now of an adjective that describes how I feel about them) children.  Thank you, thank you God for what you’re doing in me.  And for my husband who loves me like I couldn’t ever imagine being loved.  And for this family of mine.  That I still can’t believe belongs to me.

Phew.  Hot tears.  Goodnight y’all.

xo

Christi

P.S. I must have this baby before these emotions and hormones drive me clear to nutty-ville.  Sappy, emotional me.  One day I’ll be back to normal.

P.P.S. I’m gonna be MIA for awhile.  But I’ll be back.  With lots and lots of photos.  Pinky promise.


Jul 19 2011

My Battle with PPD | Cincinnati Child + Baby Photography

[This is a bit of a long post, so grab yourself a tasty beverage and sink into your chair with me]

Postpartum depression.  The nasty beast.  It hit me, and it hit me hard.

It was September 2006.  Mac was 14 months old.  Lily was in my belly, still cooking, and should have been for 6 more weeks.

I woke up in the middle of the night.  It was 3:45 a.m.  I thought I was just headed to the bathroom (for the umpteenth time).

I was mistaken.

I headed in, and knew right away that something wasn’t right.  I turned on the light.  And saw blood.  Lots of it.

My baby girl was born by emergency c-section an hour later.

I was peaceful, though, throughout that crazy hour.  God poured out this overwhelming calm on me, and I was perfectly peaceful.  I didn’t know what was happening, or what to expect, or even if she was alive.  But I was completely calm.  That’s God’s crazy, undeserved goodness.

Lily was in the NICU for just 5 days, and then we came home.  Things fell into place, and we began adjusting to our new normal.

What I didn’t know is that it was the beginning of the darkest 6 months of my life.

I look back at these photos, and I remember.

I would go down and visit her as much as I could.  She was one floor below me at the hospital, and those 5 days felt like 5 weeks.  I was allowed to breastfeed her twice a day, for 15 minutes, and then she would be too tired.  So I held her.  A lot.  Skin-to-skin.  I sat and held her and dreamed of what she would be like.  Who she would become.  Who I would become, now a Mama to a girl.

Mac loved his baby sister.  He ran around like the little 1 year old tornado that he was, and would randomly stop and talk to her.  Look at her.  Kiss her.  Pat her head (ooooh honey, gentle. be gentle to the baby).

Fast forward a few weeks, and we were in the middle of complete baby chaos.

She cried.  All day.  Most of the night.  All out screaming, for hours.

I couldn’t comfort her.  Nothing made her happy.  We tried it all.

Lily had milk-protein allergy (which meant she was allergic to my breastmilk because of the dairy that I was ingesting).  So I weaned all dairy out of my diet.  I read labels.  No whey, no casein, no milk derivatives.

It didn’t help.

The pediatrician said she had reflux, and treated her with meds.

She still screamed.  For hours.  I felt like I was failing.

We changed her meds, but still no relief for her.

6 months later, and we still had no answers.  There had to be a solution.  My baby was in pain.  I knew she was, but I didn’t know how to help her.

We made an appointment with a GI specialist at Cincinnati Children’s, and that was Lily’s saving grace.  They doubled her medication, and told me not to hold my breath, that it could take 2-3 weeks to see any improvement.

It was 2 days.  TWO.  And she was a whole new baby.  She smiled.  She interacted with us.  She cried only when she needed something.  THIS was finally how it was supposed to be.

But for me, it was too late.

It started with a delivery that didn’t go how I had planned it to in my mind.  And then there was the screaming.  The screaming, that seemed to last day and night.

All I could hear in my head was fail, fail, fail.  Negative thoughts intruded, until it was all I could hear.

You couldn’t help your baby.  You’re her mommy.  You should have done something differently.  You should have loved her better.  You should have known.  And on and on.  I was agitated.  Irritable.  Short-fused.  Angry.  Unhappy.  Irrational.  I couldn’t bond with her.  And I had no idea what was wrong with me.  Or how to fix myself.

I had no idea what I was experiencing was postpartum depression.

Until one day, a friend mentioned Brooke Shield’s book, Down Came The Rain.  Oooooh, that book looks good.  I remember seeing it, I said.  I checked it out from the library, and started reading.  And then.  The light bulbs.  Went off everywhere in my head.  Everything the book talked about, I was experiencing.  I would read, and say that’s me! that’s me!

I called my doctor, and told him what I was feeling.  He said it was a no-brainer, and called me in a prescription for an anti-depressant.  And a few days later, I was back to my old self.  Easy peasy, lemon squeezie.

But those months.  Those months were not what I would wish for anyone.  She didn’t ask for it, and it wasn’t her fault.  It wasn’t my fault.  It wasn’t anyone’s fault.  It just was.

All she wanted was to be loved and adored.  That’s it.  And don’t get me wrong.  She was loved, and IS loved and adored.  Every second of every day.  But those months?  Those months, they took their toll.  And I still have so much regret.  The what-if’s and the frustration and the blameful thoughts weigh on me.

Still.  STILL.  Those thoughts are there.  And the fear that in 10 days, I’m doing it again.  Having this baby, and what if.  What if the nasty beast sneaks up on me again.  What if I think I’m better prepared to recognize the symptoms.  And still.  The blows of PPD knock me down again.

I look at this photo of her.

And this one.

And these.

And I say, it’s all gonna be okay.

And IF the beast shows up?  I’ll kick it on its ass this time.

How about me?:-)

xo

Christi

 


Jun 20 2011

Me | Cincinnati Baby + Child Photography

Emily is a dear friend of mine.  You must know that she’s sweet and thoughtful in so many ways.  She’s just plain selfless and lets her little light shine all the time.  She cares about people.

And she cares about me.

One fine day we had a “disagreement” if you will. About me and my pregnant self being in front of the camera and the necessity of that.

This is how it went down. Brace yourself.

Emily: “Who’s taking your pregnancy photos, dear?”

Me: “Ummmm. Nobody. No thank you. I want to run right out of this room just at the thought.”

Emily: “Oh no. Oh no you don’t, my friend. You must capture this little miracle in your belly and document this pregnancy. You of all people know this. Right?”

Me: “No thank you, friend. But thanks for asking.”  ::she bats eyelashes and tries to change subject::

Emily: “I’m doing them for you.”

Me: “No thank you.”

Emily: “Yes. I am. And you’ll be beautiful.”

Me: “No thank you. And no I won’t.”

Emily: “Yes. I’m coming to your house. You set it up. I’ll use your camera. You get the settings right for me. Tell me what to do. And I’ll just take some. It will be great.”

Me: “No thank you.”  ::she wishes someone would enter the room and whisk her away to Aruba – or anywhere just to avoid this conversation::

Emily: “Chrrriiisssttiii. Were doing it. We’re so doing it. Pick and day, and I”ll be there.”

This was about 3 months ago. And I avoided the topic like the plague from then until now. Until she forced her way into my house a few days ago (not really. I did let her in).

And I secretly wished I could drink a mint julep or a mojito or something fancy and nerve-calming that morning to settle me down (and use up some of the mint that is taking over my flowerbeds. 2 birds with 1 stone. That’s how I roll).

I almost threw up.

And then bailed.

At least 6 times.

But I’m so glad that I didn’t.

Because now our baby boy Tate and the miracle that he is? It’s documented. It’s documented.

So when my belly is gone (In just 5.5 short weeks. Holla.), I can look at these photos.

And dream of the days when it was just baby and me.

With his hiccups and stretches and kicks and punches that I love so much.

Sigh. I love him with all of my being.

Already.

This last one I hesitated to post. Back and forth I went: Should I? Shouldn’t I? It shows a little bit of breast, so go no further if that makes you feel uncomfortable.  I cropped out the top of the photo, and it completely changed the feeling. I asked myself, “would you post it if it were a client and not YOU?” And the answer was, “why, yes of course I would, with her permission.” So I said be fierce, Christi. Be brave. Give yourself permission. Put it on up.

(So now that I’ve made it much huger deal than it really is…)

There you have it. Me + my baby belly.

::her hand trembles as she prepares to push the publish button::

xo

Christi

P.S. Emily dear, you were so right. And I love that you wanted to do this for me. So thank you. THANK YOU. From the bottom of my ginormous belly big heart. Love you girl.

 


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