The sun peeked out from the gloomy clouds this morning, lighting up the trees in the backyard. I loved the play of shadows from the houses, the bright colors of the autumn leaves, and the sun at it’s low angle first thing in the morning, so I ran for my camera.

If you’ve been reading the Prairie Box for some time now then you’re well-acquainted with the fact that I have one daughter and that Jeremy and I are foster parents. If you’ve been reading for a really long time, then you know that we want more kids in our family. Featured on A Musing Maralee today is a tidbit about the baby we wanted and lost to miscarriage in the fall of 2006.

Writing a letter to that dreamed-for, hoped-for baby was not an easy task. But it was a really helpful, cathartic exercise. I’ve lumped the loss of that baby in with the subsequent years of infertility and it’s become a giant ball of yucky grief that I shove to the back of my mind. Remembering the miscarriage and writing a letter reminded me that my pregnancy involved one particular person at a particular point in time. I was pregnant! And it was great! I won’t say that one letter will relieve me from the giant grief ball, but it’s nice to have it unravel a bit more over time and, in doing so, lose it’s power over me.

**The flowers featured here were given to me by my awesome husband. I should write a post sometime about how he loves physical touch and I love gifts, and how I keep bringing him little presents from the store and he wants to hug me a lot. Fifteen years of marriage, folks, and we’re just now starting to figure out this love language thing.

My house, my mess!

My photos accompany Maralee Bradley’s words on Her View From Home. Go check it out: What Would Jesus Dust?

I shot images in my house today for an upcoming project.

This picture reminds me of Jeremy’s new habits for a healthy lifestyle. His breakfast of choice every day? Oatmeal. And lunch every day? Fresh vegetables (with a dash of onion powder) and a little fruit. Add to that routine a four to five mile walk several times a week and we’re all seeing some great results. The cutting board reminds me of how proud I am of his hard work.

I cannot stand eating the same thing day in, day out, so no, I will not be attempting this diet. But it’s amazing how such a positive change affects the whole household. I’m inspired by my husband. And I also happen to love him a ton. xxoo

Sometimes I’ll go trolling through the picture files on my hard drive, looking for something new to tinker with. While I have plenty of images related to my professional life, I’ve been surprised lately at how few personal photos I’ve taken. The lesson here is: use your camera.

Just keep shooting.

Playing.

Dreaming.

Exploring.

July 27 was a beautiful day in Lincoln, Nebraska. I watched the sun rise next to my laboring friend Lauren and remember remarking that today would be her son or daughter’s birthday. Remember these images from Lauren’s maternity shoot? And this one a few days after Judah was born. Well, here is the rest of the story—with permission from Lauren and Josh—as seen from the lens of my camera.

We arrived at the hospital in the wee hours of the morning. Lauren worked through contractions in the dark quiet room for awhile, and then she walked the hallways. First with Josh, and later with me.

I’ll never forget our brief explorations of the hospital before it really woke up for the day. Lauren sashayed through the empty halls, powering through contractions as she walked in order to move the baby downward. We stepped outside and watched the sun begin to rise. When we arrived back in the room, Josh was sound asleep on what some nurses call the “empathy couch” due to it’s lack of comfort. There’s something about a husband resting that, in these two labors I’ve attended at least, puts a laboring wife’s mind to ease. I like Lauren’s happy smile in one of the following shots—she could still smile at this stage.

The sun’s brightness reflects on Lauren’s face. She is not sleeping here, don’t be fooled. Things are starting to get intense.

Out of the tub. The clock keeps ticking and we’re getting closer to meeting Judah.

And then he arrived. And all the hard work, all the growing of these past nine months, revealed itself in the form of a gorgeous gift of a baby boy. It was unbelievable. Even now I struggle to find the words to describe what it was like to see him for the first time. Thank goodness for photos.

I’ve known Jacob and Allison for some time now, so it was a privilege to capture some family photos with their extended family a few weeks ago. Between enjoying their little ones at play—and convincing them at times to join the rest of the family in peeking at my camera—and wandering about in the Haymarket and Cooper Park, I really had a lovely time with the entire group. And watching grown men interact as brothers always turns back the clock, doesn’t it?

Thanks, Gerbers! I hope you enjoy these images as much as I do. You are a fine-lookin’ bunch!

**Brief sidenote: Jacob and Allison are fabulous foster parents to a baby boy right now. Perhaps one of my favorite family portraits includes him, but you, my dear friends, will not view it here. At least not now. I may not be able to acknowledge this precious child in photos, but I can acknowledge him in words. So now you know. (Remember, loved and cherished but not forgotten.)

This adorable little boy turned one last month and we celebrated by capturing his cuteness with a photo shoot. I may not be able to show his face—at least as ordained by the State of Nebraska—but I’ll tell you what I do know below…

Though this child may be anonymous for now on one very small blog in the great world wide web, he is not anonymous really.
This child is important.
This child matters.
This child is made in the image of God.
This child is deeply deeply loved.