Nursing Session, Down By The River


A baby nursing at a mother’s breast… is an undeniable affirmation of our rootedness in nature. ~David Suzuki

This blog post is so beyond overdue. My only true excuse is that I’ve been waiting for that perfect moment to share it with the rest of you, when the truth of the matter is that any moment truly would have been.

When my friend Heather asked me to take these images of her littlest little and her, I knew it had to be special. Not just any kind of special either – magical special.  You see, a chapter in their relationship was coming to an end; she’d decided that it was the right time for them both for her to begin weaning her little boy.  But before dong so, she wanted to be sure she’d always have memories.  Memories of a connection I remember so vividly having nursed my own boys, but have no images of, so know only too well the importance of documenting this incredibly fleeting time in both of their lives.

We chose the river for it’s simplicity.  It set the entire tone of the session – organic and natural.  My only hope is that even if only for an afternoon, I was able to stop time with those moments for Heather and Lane. I genuinely love these two…this one will always have a special place in my heart.  And with that, I give you the rest of the river session.




I’m very excited to announce that My Point Of You Custom Photography is now offering special nursing ‘Connection Sessions’.
Please email me at (or use Contact tab) for more information.

The Mother I ‘Wasn’t’ & The Mother I Became – a personal journey of life, loss and love

The Mother I Wasn’t, The Mother I Became, and Everything In Between


As we’re about to celebrate Mother’s Day, I know there are many out there with holes in their hearts. Holes that will never really truly be filled and I know because I have three. Mother’s Day, 1997. Inarguably one of the worst days I’ve ever known because while everyone else was busy celebrating motherhood, I was completely and utterly empty.  It was as if someone had taken my breath but at the same time was forcing me to speak; my muscles in a constant state of contraction.  An empty deeper than any hole one could ever imagine. Vast, lonely, deep, dark and numbing. Simply put, the kind of empty that only someone who’s gone through something similar can understand.  Empty because I’d lost the triplets I was carrying on February 5, 1997 at 24+ weeks. Three boys, identical twins and one fraternal. 
Utterly alone and completely empty. I couldn’t verbalize to you who I was much more than that, but I did know this. I wasn’t anyone’s mother. 
I was simply someone who had suffered a terrible loss and was now either being doted on or completely ignored because human nature is just like that; people reflexively react differently during times of horrific loss. It certainly wasn’t their fault and I can’t really say that I remember too terribly much of anything. I was disconnected and removed from the entire situation, almost as if it had happened to somebody else.  I felt like I was hovering above my own body watching it all take place but unable to stop it. I could articulate very clearly what had happened but in a very clinical and stark manner; there were no feelings attached to it whatsoever. Again, on that very first Sunday in May all I knew is that everyone else had something to celebrate and I felt like an absolute nobody.

I do remember making the very conscious and rational (at least then) decision to chemically assist my pain for a couple of months; numbing everything out seemed like a much better alternative to dealing with anything I was feeling at that particular moment. Of course, all that did for me (besides the obvious of allowing me to come in and out of a foggy, dazed haze long enough to function for a mere few hours a day) was delay the inevitable. Depression and anxiety loomed over me and the person I once was – a risk-taker, spontaneous, afraid of nothing and no one, a take-the-bull-by-the-horns kind of girl, that girl? She was suddenly gone and a very fractured shell of what I used to be remained. Fear consumed me. Fear of failure, fear of losing everything and everyone around me, fear that the scratch on my arm was going to turn into a flesh-eating bacteria and kill me…you name it, I was fearful.  Therapists quickly became my new best friends, until I just as quickly came to the conclusion that I was becoming so insightful about myself I no longer needed to pay someone else to tell me what I already knew. It took some time and a lot of soul searching, but that dark period soon began to lift and is also of course when photography came back into my life. It was then and remains today to be my one constant source of relaxation. I dove in headfirst and never looked back.  The rest as they say, is history.

I found out I was pregnant again just under a year later and my focus shifted, swiftly. I felt as though I had something (and someone) to live for again and boy did I. I threw myself into motherhood and loved every single second of every single day.  The connection I felt with my baby boy was like nothing I’d ever felt before.  While I couldn’t wait for that first Sunday in May after having him I still wrestled with an amalgam of feelings, both pure joy and just plain sadness all at the same time. Just as I have every Mother’s Day since; I still feel that loss like it was yesterday.

Rob and I now have three very healthy boys and are very happily married; he’s the most supportive partner I could ever ask for. God has truly blessed us and I love everything about being the mom I am today, even when I suck at it. And believe me, I do.  I try to be the very best mom I can be, sometimes perhaps too hard.  The reality is that I fall short most of the time. As many of you that know me (and those of you that really know me, lol) know, I have teenagers now. I mean seriously, I can yell and scream and become almost as much of a 15 year old as my actual 15 year old when he pushes my buttons enough, which let’s face it, is almost every time we argue. I suck at home cooked meals since starting my business a couple of years ago (oh who am I kidding, even before that), I barely make it to anything on time, and I’m brilliant at complicating just about any situation because I am constantly trying to do it all perfectly. It’s who I am. I wake up and vow to do my very best every single day and sometimes I wake up and vow to simply make it through the day. I like to think I’m not the only one.

While I am truly grateful for all that I have and all I’ve been given, seventeen years later I still think about them. What would have looked like? What they would have loved doing; would they be like their brothers? Played the same sports, loved Maine, worn the same clothes? How many girls would have been banging down my door, lol? I have these thoughts all the time. I can almost see them if I close my eyes tightly enough, when  I’m both happy and when I have that ache and longing for them in my heart the way I do today.

Lest not we forget my sidekick. Guilt. It was (and still is) the one emotion that no matter how far I’ve ever come to terms with what happened will still come crashing down around me like a tidal wave, taking me out to sea and forcing me to fight my way back with every ounce of will that I have. How could it not? It was my own body that failed me, that ripped them from me while I held on with a strength I didn’t know was possible until that moment and yet it still wasn’t enough. Yes, I know I’m the only one who can forgive myself. I’m still working on that and that’s ok with me. Does it effect my life today? Absolutely. And when I have those dark moments I try to remember what I would do if they were here with me. The example I would want them to live by. Rather than catastrophize everything, concentrate on the positive and not the negative. Focus on what is here in my life and all I am blessed with.

My message and my reason for sharing this part of me is because I want for any of you that may be feeling that same loss, that same emptiness to know you are not alone. Celebrate tomorrow. Embrace it. You are a mother. Now and forevermore, your babies will always be with you. We may all be on different journeys and have different experiences, but we will always have this in common. We are all mommas. 
Happy Mother’s Day to all of you.

  • Ashley Spaulding - I don’t know the pain that you’ve endured, Sarah, but I can imagine how bittersweet Mother’s Day is for you. I know you cherish the three amazing boys you have here with you today, but I know that the depth of your loss 14 years ago is still very real for you, too. I’m sending you a huge hug and tons of happy wishes for a beautiful day with your special guys tomorrow.ReplyCancel

  • Sabra - Sarah, thank you so much for sharing this part of yourself. <3 You are a beautiful woman, with a beautiful spirit.ReplyCancel

  • Heidi G - What a raw and beautiful post. Much love to you this Mother’s Day.ReplyCancel

  • Anne M - Lovely post, Sarah. May today be a wonderful Mother’s Day, celebrating all of your beautiful babies and the Mom you are, loving each of them the way a mother can.ReplyCancel

  • Megan - Oh, Sarah. I wish I could give you a giant hug. You have a beautiful heart, and a beautiful family – all of them. I think you’re an amazing mama, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life!ReplyCancel

  • elaina - what a gorgeous post! Sending lots of love momma!!!ReplyCancel

Letters To Our Children – September, 2013

To My Boys…

Summertime is coming to a close…your barefeet are covered with socks and shoes and instead of wearing your hoodies at night in Maine around the campfire, you need them first thing as I can feel the chill in the air as you open the door to go to school. How it all flies by so fast I just don’t know.  But I’ve been feeling like that about a lot of things lately; summertime is only one of many on the list.

This summer did not go exactly as I’d hoped it would. After more than fifteen years at the lake, it’s coming to a close and we’ll no longer be seasonal’s at our campground. I’m sad.  I wanted our summer to be like summer’s past and do all of the things we have every year we’ve spent there.  Instead? I got sick, you slept until noon, played almost solely with your friends (and had a blast doing it) while I tried to remember why I ever wanted time alone ever when you were younger (it’s really not all it’s cracked up to be) and waited for your dad to get there the first half of summer.  During some of that time alone and while all of that sleep was helping you both grow inches taller, turns out I learned it was me, yup, your mom who was the one who had some growing up to do this summer.

You’re growing up.  This fact I’ve known for a long time and have accepted…mostly. Yet, there are parts of your lives that I long to hold on to that I no longer can.  I’m learning to grow with you as you evolve into the amazing young men you both are but I need to ask you to be patient with me…even mom still needs to take baby steps sometimes.  While the years may have flown by, the days were long (very, very long sometimes!) and still may take me a few extra baby steps to catch up to the giant leaps and bounds you’ve made, even in the last few months.

It’s a little ironic in a way, because I always try and calm brand new moms down them by telling them to always expect the unexpected those first few months. That as soon as you relax into thinking your precious little one is finally on a ‘schedule’, not to panic when it all changes in an instant. As you’ve grown up, things were easier to anticipate.  We’ve never had routine and structure (certainly not like most families!) because of your Dad being a policeman and his military job, but things settle. The last couple of years especially, though?  So many milestones that have been extraordinary to witness – you will never know how proud of both of you and your older brother. But you know I’ll never lie to you so when I say it’s hard for me, understand that it’s only hard for me to let go of what once was.  Not everything, just some things that right now may not make sense to you but I promise they will when you have your own. Yup, I said it.  I promise you this.  I will always do my best. As I need to, I will let go a little always trust you to be your own people and make your own mistakes.  I’m thinking I maybe get a little bit of a cool factor – I do after all let you pick out & wear what you want, cut your own hair and take you to midnight movie premieres on weekdays (once in a blue moon).

This summer may not have been what I was hoping for.  In fact, I know I definitely was not hoping to be sick for four of the six weeks we were there, lol.  I can say definitively and without question that everyone at some point had a good time together and that is all I ever want.  We will always have the years and years of memories of summer’s past and for that I am eternally grateful.   That and to be able to take images like these to remember the joy on your faces for years to come.

Oh…and the next time you want some cash, a ride or one of your friends to stay over?  Just remember that hugs will always go a long, long way with your momma.

Be sure to follow our circle and see what my beautiful friend Miss Kristen Ryan has written this month.

  • Heather - Love love love this post. I can almost feel the memories settling into your mind to stay forever. I felt like I was sitting on the boat with you while you were enjoying your summer :) Now I’m going to go snuggle my bug because you’ve reminded me of how fast he is growing <3 Oh yeh, love you too 😀ReplyCancel

  • Katrina Stewart - What beautiful words! Lucky, lucky boys to have you as their momma. So bittersweet.ReplyCancel

  • Katrina - Was just looking at this and thinking how much your boys have changed over the course of a year. It’s crazy!ReplyCancel

It’s the little things…Water

I can’t believe it’s been a month already – it’s almost July and barely feels like summer has even begun. Time flies when you’re having fun! Water is this month’s theme and I have to admit that  I’d have a lot more to share next month for this theme as we’ll be in Maine and surrounded by water. I’ve been working hard these last few weeks so that I can play harder when we’re on vacation.  No pool views yet, though I did love the light that was streaming through while the sprinklers were on.  Funny what catches your eye while you’re doing the dishes. 😉

I’ll definitely be sharing a lot more water images from the lake in Maine in the next couple of months, so be sure to check back for those.

I hope you’ll follow the rest of our circle around because next up is Miss Parikha Solanki Mehta, whose theme interpretations never disappoint.

  • parikha - Love the subtle suggestion of sprinkler spray here, Sarah – happy vacationing! :)ReplyCancel

  • Megan - Isn’t it great when you can seize an opportunity unexpectedly? Beautiful, Sarah! <3ReplyCancel

  • Elicia - I am loving your interpretation this month! Really fun lines and beautiful light my friend.ReplyCancel

It’s the little things…Motherhood

Ahhhhh, motherhood.  It is the reason I am. My reason for every day, and even on the worst days (three teenage boys, ok people!), I wouldn’t change a single thing.  I decided that since this circle is in fact all about the ‘little things’, I’d  photograph some of the tiny treasures my boys have given me over the years. You know the ones – the homemade Mother’s Day gifts made in preschool and kindy, the Sunday School projects they couldn’t wait for you to have and would come running over to you with (inevitably having something in hand dripping with either glue, glitter or both!) Yes, those treasures that every mother keeps in drawers and shoeboxes alike.  I cherish them. Especially these days 😉

Please be sure to follow our lovely little circle all the way around!  Next up is my incredibly talented friend Miss Megan Dill…she has such an extraordinary way of viewing the ‘little things’, and I can’t wait to see her interpretation of motherhood.