Time flies.

I can recall my mother saying "time flies... and it seems to fly faster and faster each year". As a teenager, I didn't understand what she was saying, because I felt time didn't move fast enough. I wanted to grow up already. I wanted to drive a car, move away from home, go to college, get married, have a life. MY life.

Fast forward some 25 years and I finally understand what she meant. I have accomplished all of those things in the exact order that I wanted. And now I am a mom with two young daughters who are growing at an ever rapid pace. They have yet to set life goals, unless you count "boat fixer" or New Orleans Saints cheerleader as a career aspiration. With each passing day, I catch glimpses of the women that they will become. And my heart breaks, just a little, as I try and remember the tiny babies they each once were.

I never thought I was the maternal type. I was always too self absorbed to think about anyone else. Then one day, my maternal clock sounded an alarm and there was nothing my rational mind could do to to silence it. So, my husband reluctantly agreed to reproduce and we now have two beautiful, healthy young daughters. And MY life is consumed with THEIR lives. It took a good two years to accept the fact that I cannot sanely balance life as a mother and as a veterinarian. To accept that my life, which once revolved around physical exams and surgery and euthanasias and emergencies, now revolves around school drop off and pick up, endless dishes and laundry, the relentless birthday party circuit that comes with little kids.

I wouldn't change a thing.

I love my little girls, more than I have ever loved anything in my life. I can't imagine life without them. And the trouble is, sometimes I don't remember life with them. With the hustle and bustle of each day, I forget to stop and appreciate all of my daughters' quirks. And that makes me sad. Because I realize that each day flies by faster than the one before it. And I panic that I will forget everything.

Which is why I am thankful for my camera. I recently rediscovered a photo that I had taken of Ella when she was about 6 months old. I was new to photography and trying to learn how to take better portraits. I hadn't found my style and was basically copying whatever I could, just for the sake of learning. On this particular day, I had Ella dressed in a diaper and Baby Legs, just like another baby in a photograph I had recently seen and admired. And I failed at copying this photographer's image. Miserably. But I managed one shot that is priceless to me, even though it wasn't what I had envisioned.

Miss Ella, sitting up all by herself. With her giant eyes and ruby lips. With an expression that is unapologetically her. Even at 6 months of age, she appears as if she is going to take the world by the hand and show it all of the amazing things she knows. So full of life and wonder and pure awesomeness.

Sometimes I forget what she was like when she was a baby. How she smelled, what she felt like, what she sounded like. And I look at this picture and it all floods back. And not just the feel of her fuzzy little head on my lips, or the fact that she smelled like Noodle and Boo. I see her curtains in the background and remember picking them out for her; the funny smell they had when they arrived, asking grandma to sew them a bit longer, the way they gently danced on the breeze that came through the window of her room. In the house we no longer live in. Stuff that seems insignificant, but is part of her history, our history.

With this photo, I am able to stop time for as long as I want. And that helps me feel not-so-panicked that time is flying by faster than I would like it to. 

Baby Graham

I have been just a weeeeee bit delayed in writing this post. It has been almost 2 months since I witnessed baby Graham enter this world and I have been at a total loss for words... how do I describe the birth of my friends' son? After all, my relationship with Mel and JT has been, what I consider to be, the most significant friendship I have made in my adult life. Classmates in vet school, we endured an intense four years of classes, exams and clinics together. We lost touch after graduation, but through the magic of Facebook, we have re-connected. And I am so, sooooooooooooooooo thankful. Because these are two of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Baby Graham was 8 days late. If you have never experienced pregnancy or childbirth, I will tell you that the last month of pregnancy is agonizing. Having waited 9 months to meet your new child, each minute seems like an eternity. That, combined with the rapid disappearance of intra-abdominal space, most pregnant women feel that the final weeks of pregnancy are a cruel form of torture. And poor Mel... she went 8 days beyond her due date.

Thank goodness Mel is a rock star. Because with that extra time, Graham grew to almost 9 pounds. And Mel delivered him au natural. No drugs to dull the pain... only the love and support of her husband and both grandmas. And me in the background, clicking away, trying to capture the birth of this beautiful little boy.

When I first arrived at the hospital, Mel confessed that she had changed her mind and she didn't want to have a baby anymore. But everything was ready to go and there was no turning back. The water bath was filled and warming up. Yes, I said water bath. A true Davis hippie, Mel opted for a water delivery. And after seeing the set-up, I found myself a bit jealous that I didn't have such luxurious conditions for the births of my daughters.

It's just like being at the spa.

Warm water bath, candles, sphygmomanometer...

The mood was light and mommy and daddy were smiling:

and the grandmas kept themselves busy...

...while I admired Mel's pedicure

and marveled in how sweet this couple is

JT stayed with Mel every step of the way

(I think he could have a very successful career as a doula)

It was very hard to watch my friend in this much pain.

Fortunately for me, I could focus on taking pictures.

And in the end, Mel and JT had this:

I'll just be quiet now and let you enjoy the photos:

Congratulations, my friends.

Much, much, much love,

Nicole

Happy Birthday Cynthia!

I love birthdays, perhaps more than I should. Which could be traced back to the fact that my father never saw the point in celebrating them... "I celebrate achievements" he would grumble, "graduations are an achievement, birthdays are not". In my book, birthdays are most definitely an achievement as they signify another year of growth and learning (and in some cases, survival), and are the starting point for a brand new year of things to come. And when the birthday happens upon a decade, well, that is even better.

I had the honor of attending Cynthia's 60th birthday party earlier this month. I was asked by my wonderful friend, Schaelene, to come and photograph the festivities. Schaelene had organized a party for her stepmother, and my being there was a surprise. I met Cynthia when I entered the door wearing my gigantic backpack complete with tripod. Ever so sweet, Cynthia introduced herself, to which I replied "hi, I'm Nicole. I will be your photographer for today". I am a bit of a ding dong and forgot that this was a surprise gift from Schaelene and her cousin Sara. Ever the gracious host, Schaelene explained to her stepmother that I was there to gather photos of the families and friends who had traveled from far and near to celebrate this lovely woman. And as luck (or un-luck) would have it, Cynthia's husband was ill and could not attend the party. Ken was upset, not just because he was missing his wife's birthday party, but because he is usually the historian at these events. Schaelene assured her father that she would have someone there to photograph the event, so he should relax and get some rest.

It was a lovely party with around 50 guests, each of whom received a custom name tag written by the newly-minted first grader, Isabella:

Isabella's little sister, Claire, was the official greeter, giving lots of hugs to family and friends:

The co-hosts and the guest of honor - Schaelene, Sara and Cynthia:

Susan, a friend from high school, was able to make the party and raise a glass to her friend:

I couldn't help but photograph this little guy, Cynthia's nephew:

It is no secret that I am smitten by adorable little babies. But ones wearing UC Davis gear, fuggetaboutit! P.S. his father is a veterinarian - wahoo!

Here is Cynthia with her sister, Adrienne:

and with all of her siblings:

Marianne, Alan, Cynthia, Gerry and Adrienne

A handsome family, wouldn't you say?

No party is complete without a fabulous birthday cake.

Or two, if you are so lucky :-)

Cynthia's family is kind and did not give her 60 candles to blow out.

Although I think she could have done it!

Schaelene had her father on the phone for the singing of Happy Birthday. Even though Ken couldn't be there physically, he was still able to be a part of the party.

And what a wonderful party it was!

Happy Birthday Cynthia!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday Kingston

I have this friend... actually, she is more like a long lost cousin. We are so much alike in so many ways - the fact that we are both named Nicole Marie is just a start. And like old friends, we are able to communicate volumes in just a few words or even just a sideways glance.

A few months ago, Nicole pitched me an idea. She was pregnant with her second child and was wondering if I would be willing to photograph the birth. Of course I said yes. Without a doubt. I have given birth twice before, and I have done numerous C-sections (on animals)... so I figured that being a passive observer would be easy. Besides, I figured since I wouldn't be the one dilating and contracting and pushing and tearing, it would be no sweat for me.

From a logistics standpoint, I got really lucky. Nicole was going to be induced, so I was able to arrange for child care. She gave me the play-by-play via text... ah, to give birth in the age of instant messaging. I arrived at the hospital around 10:30am and was greeted by Nicole, her husband Brian, her mom Phyllis and her stepdad David. What an amazing family - so open and loving... I felt like I had known them forever. Whatever concerns I had about intruding on their private family moment vanished as soon as I walked through the door.

I took about 2000 pictures that day. I probably would have taken more if it weren't for the hospital's rules, which included things like: no photos of the staff, no photos of procedures, no standing on the furniture. With all of those pictures, it was a bit difficult to decide which ones to share. So I chose a few of my favorites. I'll give the disclaimer now: if you are grossed out by pregnant bellies or the act of childbirth, you need to either exit this post muy pronto, or suck it up.

I'll stop talking now and let the photos show you the amazing event that unfolded on this day.

How did anyone ever give birth before the cell phone was invented?

Great Grandma Barbara wasn't able to be there physically,

so Phyllis gave frequent updates over the phone

I know this image is totally graphic, but it captures everything - Nicole's face shows the pain of childbirth, her mother-in-law's face shows the support and encouragement given by everyone. And little Kingston's face, in the bottom left corner, as he makes his debut.

First Kiss

Two small details I'd like to point out: 1) the tear in the corner

of Nicole's eye and 2) Kingston's tiny blue hands

Brian holding his son for the first time

Proud Grandma Chris in the background

Happy Birthday baby Kingston. You are loved.