My First Birth Experience Was… A Lot
If you've ever shown up somewhere three times before they finally let you in, you know the energy of my first birth. I was induced at a military training hospital, and after being turned away three times, we finally got a room — hooray! They got me hooked up, we went over my birth plan (so cute, so naive), and we waited for things to get started. Then the nurse came in to send me home again because I wasn't in active labor.
Except (plot twist), she forgot to take my blood pressure before pulling my IV out. Turns out I had hypertension that honestly should have been caught weeks earlier. So back in went the IV, and back in went our hopes of this going smoothly.
We waited. One hour. Two hours. And then around 2pm, the lead OB walked in with the energy of someone delivering a quarterly earnings report and told us, with zero warmth, that we were looking at a c-section or risking serious danger to me and the baby. I was a sobbing, terrified first-time mom who had a birth plan that did not include this moment.
My husband left to grab food since we were told 5pm. They came for us at 3. He had ten minutes to get back or he'd miss the birth of our son. Cool, cool, totally fine.
He made it — barely. But when they walked me back to the OR, a nurse looked at me and said, "Say goodbye to your husband."
Ma'am. I am not dying.
WHAT.
Cue immediate panic attack. Then the person doing my spinal tap (a student) hit my spine, said so out loud, and reinserted the needle too high. I spent my entire c-section convinced I couldn't breathe and fighting to stay awake. I barely remember any of it.
My son arrived at 9lbs 7oz and nearly two feet long (an absolute unit, truly), but he aspirated during delivery and spent a few days in the NICU. I was out of it, overwhelmed, and disconnected from one of the most significant moments of my life.
A kind nurse snapped a few photos for us. And I have held onto those imperfect iPhone images like they are gold, because they are. They're all I have.
That's the moment the seed was planted. I just didn't know it yet.
My Second Birth Restored My Faith in Everything
By the time I got pregnant with my daughter, I was already dreading the hospital. Not because I wasn't excited (I absolutely was), but because my body remembered everything from the first time. The anxiety, the chaos, the nurse telling me to "say goodbye" to my husband like I was heading into battle. I was almost sick to my stomach thinking we were about to do it all again.
We weren't.
This time we were in Tulsa at Hillcrest South, with the incomparable Dr. William Harris, and I mean that sincerely, the man is an angel walking among us. We made sure his team knew our history going in, and instead of being brushed off, we were heard. We walked in at our scheduled arrival time and were welcomed with genuine excitement. No waiting rooms. No being sent home. No chaos.
We got settled into our prep room, got everything ready (if you want the full rundown of what to expect before a scheduled cesarean section (inquire and lets chat!), and then Dr. Harris walked in. He went over everything that was going to happen, step by step, with calm confidence and actual warmth. The anesthesiologist was the same way; informative, precise, and honestly kind of magic after what I'd experienced the first time.
And then? It was almost boring.
I mean that as the highest possible compliment.
Within 20 minutes, my daughter was here. Eight pounds three ounces, 19 inches of pure perfection. Tiny, by my standards, after her almost ten pound brother. No emergency decisions. No panic. No one telling my husband to run. Just reassurance, competence, and a room full of people who actually made us feel safe.
That birth didn't just give me my daughter. It gave me back my trust in the process and it made me realize how wildly different two birth experiences can be, even for the same person.
That contrast? That's everything. And it's a huge part of why I do what I do now as a birth photographer in Oklahoma.
And Then I Did Something a Little Crazy
Something shifted after my daughter was born. I couldn't stop thinking about the difference between my two experiences. How one left me traumatized and foggy, and the other left me feeling like that's what birth is supposed to feel like. Supported. Calm. Remembered.
I kept coming back to the same thought: someone should be in that room capturing this. Not a nurse sneaking photos between tasks, but someone whose only job is to make sure this moment doesn't disappear.
So I became that person.
Before my daughter even turned one, I was already building my birth photography portfolio and then it happened. I got to go back into an OR with Dr. Harris. The same doctor who had given me and my family the birth experience we deserved. And I got to photograph a c-section as a birth photographer in Oklahoma for the first time.
I don't have the words to fully explain what it felt like to stand on the other side of that curtain with a camera in my hand. To witness a family meet their baby in a room that I once walked into terrified and to see it be beautiful instead. Calm. Intentional. Documented.
It was, without exaggeration, the coolest experience of my life.
And I knew right then that this was exactly what I was supposed to be doing.
My Third Birth: Full Circle, Brown Hair, and Fallopian Tube Photos
By the time I was pregnant with my third, there was really only one option for my OB. Dr. Harris. Obviously.
Now, here's where it gets a little complicated. Choosing him meant giving up my chance at a VBAC. And as a birth worker who had spent a lot of time absorbing every piece of knowledge about birth options and bodily autonomy, that was genuinely devastating to process. I knew what a VBAC could mean. I had feelings about it. Big ones.
But having Dr. Harris in that OR with me? Worth it. Every time.
This pregnancy was almost suspicious in how normal it was. Nothing dramatic, nothing scary. Just a baby doing exactly what he was supposed to do, right on schedule. I kept waiting for something to go sideways. It didn't. Dr. Harris even gave the green light to go all the way to my due date and try for spontaneous labor.
I did not make it to my due date.
By 34 weeks this boy was measuring two weeks ahead, and I was so uncomfortable I could not sit, stand, lay down, or exist as a human being in any position. We moved my due date from April 14th to the 9th, and scheduled my delivery on the 3rd.
My giant baby?
Eight pounds three ounces, 20 inches long. Which, for me, was practically petite at this point.
But the real shock? The hair. My first two kids came out full-blown redheads. Fire engine. Unmistakable. And this boy?
Brown.
BROWN.
We were floored. Thrilled, obviously, but absolutely floored.
The birth itself was everything my second was: calm, reassuring, routine in the best possible way. Normal nerves, yes, but none of the terror. None of the chaos. Just a really good team doing their jobs really well.
And this time? I had a birth photographer.
Not just any photographer, my dear friend Katie with Raw Life Images, who is also an incredible doula and one of the most talented people I've ever shared a birth space with. Katie and I have actually shot two births together, side by side, which is its own kind of wild and wonderful experience. But this time she was there entirely for me.
She captured everything. Every moment I had been missing from my first two births. The ones that existed only in my foggy memory or in a handful of nurse snapped photos, Katie got them. She even photographed my tubal ligation.
And honestly? So. Cool.
Having someone in that room whose only job was to witness my experience and preserve it. I finally understood, from the inside, what I give my own clients. And it made me want to show up for every single one of them even harder.
This Is Why I Show Up For You
Three births. Three completely different experiences. One traumatic and foggy, one healing and calm, and one that finally gave me the gift of being present in my own story, because someone else was holding the camera.
That's the thread that runs through everything I do as a birth photographer in Oklahoma.
I know what it feels like to barely remember the day your child was born. I know what it feels like to cling to a few blurry photos taken by a nurse who was also managing your IV. And I know what it feels like to have someone in that room whose entire job is you; capturing the details you'll forget, the moments that happen in seconds, the ones you'll want to show your kid someday when they ask what the day they were born looked like.
Whether your birth goes exactly to plan or absolutely nothing like it, those moments deserve to be documented. You deserve to be documented.
If you're expecting in Oklahoma and you're curious about having a birth photographer by your side, a hospital birth, a c-section, a home birth, or anything in between, I would love to chat. This is my favorite thing in the world to do, and I don't take that lightly.
Contact me to talk about your due date and what birth photography could look like for your family.
Not quite ready? That's okay too! You might love these posts next: BLOG
Either way, I'm so glad you're here. And I cannot wait to hear your story. 🤍
