I was updating the newborn page on my website the other night.
Nothing big just a few words, a few images and then I had to stop.
Because something landed that I couldn’t move past.
We’re only pregnant for nine months.
Newborns are only newborns for a short time.
Babies stretch out of babyhood before we realise.
They’re always our babies but they don’t stay little.
That truth feels different when you’re already on the other side of some of it.
I found myself thinking about the fact that I might never be pregnant again.
I have two children and I love them deeply but honestly, I already feel at my capacity most days.
There’s some peace in that and also a quiet what if?
Just something else that exists alongside the overwhelm of everything else.
So much of my motherhood so far has been shaped by pregnancy, newborn days and the early years.
Living in short stretches of sleep, always holding someone and always needed.
Now, I have a toddler and a six-year-old, I’m realising that I’m stepping into a version of motherhood I haven’t known yet;
One without a newborn.
For the last six years, professional photos have been non-negotiable for me.
Each pregnancy. Each newborn. Each year as a family.
Not because I wanted things to look perfect.
But because I knew even while living it that this time was important.
These photos are about my children and just as much about who I was in each chapter.
The tired version. The tender one. The unsure one. The one learning as she went.
When my daughter was three and a half, my son arrived and now he’s already two and a half. That still stops me.
I wonder what motherhood looks like from here.
You know; when your children don’t need you in the same physical way.
When your body is no longer the centre of their world.
When your role slowly shifts.
This stage already feels a little quieter, less photographed and less talked about.
And yet - just as important.
There’s more space now, sometimes more sleep and lots more conversation.
There's room to notice who my children are becoming.
And with that comes reflection.
Not rushing ahead. Not longing to go back. Just noticing where you are.
This is often when mums decide they want photos.
Not because everything feels easy.
Not because they’re ready.
But because they know this version of themselves won’t last.
Not the newborn days exactly but the woman they are inside them.
Photos become a way to remember her.
The way she held her baby.
The way she looked at her children.
The way this chapter felt.
If you’re in the thick of it right now;
Pregnant, newly postpartum, or simply finding your feet - this isn’t a reminder to soak it all in.
It’s permission to be where you are.
And if you’re standing between chapters, like I am, know this:
Your motherhood doesn’t get smaller as your children grow.
It simply changes.
And every version of you deserves to be remembered.
