Hi there – I’m Sam.

I’m a newborn photographer in Escanaba Michigan and have been called a baby whisperer many times. But when my own children were babies, I had no idea what I was doing.


I’m not a new mom anymore, and I definitely don’t have it all figured out right now (teenagers really make you question everything all over again). But I do have hindsight, and I hope that by sharing some of my truths, you will learn from them.

And most importantly, you will know you are not alone.

number one – babies will cry, and so will you. and it will all be OK.

When my son was a baby, he cried. A lot. Looking back, it’s obvious that he was colicky – but we just thought it was how babies were.

We spent so much time rocking and holding and soothing – he was rarely content on his own, and he was up every 2 hours until he was 10 months old.

It was incredibly hard.

Sometimes I felt like I was never going to sleep again. I was overwhelmed with always being needed, without a moment to myself. And I felt guilty for resenting that.

I’m very much a person that needs to be productive. If I’m not getting something done, I feel lazy – and that is just not to be allowed. I had all kinds of projects planned for my maternity leave – I wasn’t working, so I would finally have time! I would sew curtains for the nursery, scrapbook every single memory, give the house a deep clean.

My son had other plans, of course. He hated being laid down. He wanted to be held all the time. It wasn’t even worth getting out the sewing machine or scrapbook paper, because the second I did, he would be crying again. It’s terrible, and irrational, but I thought every moment I wasn’t getting something done, I was wasting the few weeks I had left of maternity leave.

I remember once I put my son in his bassinet and took a shower. He was sleeping, and I was right across the hall, but I knew I wouldn’t have long – I only wanted 10 minutes to wash my hair and feel human again.

I let the hot water rush over me and stood there – feeling drained, and a bit lost, but finally warm, and clean, and a bit more like myself.

When I got out, he was crying *so* hard.

It absolutely broke my heart. I scooped him up and held him close, and said “I’m so sorry” over and over and over. I added my tears to his. He was fine, he was safe – but it’s still something I still feel guilty for 15 years later.

After that moment in the shower, I realized that *he* was my job. He was the sole reason I was on maternity leave. Not to get projects done while I had the time, but simply to care for him.

That was my job, and it was enough.

I was not any less valuable if I didn’t make curtains for his room, or scrapbook every detail of his first year, or if the dishes sat for a day. I was doing exactly what I was supposed to by simply making sure he was safe, and loved, every single day.

The point being –

yes, the years fly by – I can attest to that. But they can also feel endless when you are in them. People will tell you “You’ll miss these days when they’re gone,” and it’s mostly true. But that doesn’t discount how hard they are at the time.


So what I need you to know is –

you will feel human again. You will have time for yourself again. It might sound so, so far away right now, but sooner than you think, you will have more time than you know what to do with. That baby that seems so fragile and dependent right now, will be a teenager with hobbies and a job and his own priorities, and it will feel it happened when you blinked your eyes.

You are enough if all you get done in a day is hold your baby. You are doing exactly what you are supposed to. You are enough. Your time is not wasted.

I say this not to diminish the challenge of what you are going through, but let you know there is a light at the end of the tunnel. And that you are strong enough to get through it, even if it doesn’t always feel like that.

And – if you absolutely do need a minute to yourself, and your baby is somewhere safe, it is OK to take that minute. To breathe, reset yourself, and come back to your baby with fresh empathy and love – you will both be better for it.

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Black and white image of newborn on changing table reaching his hand to his mom's face while she kisses his fingers.