“I really regret not getting any professional photos from either pregnancy…I also think I should’ve gotten some nursing photos. It might sound weird but it was a sweet time that I miss now.”

“I will be honest, I felt very fortunate that I did not have to do any searching for my maternity photographer. I honestly don’t know what that would’ve looked like for me… I did think that period in my life needed to be documented but… I’m not gonna lie, I don’t like [many] people’s maternity photos. Or I don’t think that they are for me. I see people walking around and looking just delightful in their ethereal dresses which is lovely… But I didn’t think I could pull it off. And I feel like that’s what I mostly see. People in long dresses. Out in the world looking lovely. But I just couldn’t see it for myself. Turns out, I loved my maternity photos. I love what I chose to wear and in general I thought they were delightful.”

These two unsolicited texts came from two friends recently. One who now lives far away and didn’t hire a maternity photographer, and one who hired me for her maternity photos. And although they are coming from two ends of the spectrum (one with regrets and one with relief), I see an underlying theme of photographer search angst in their messages. The search for a photographer is perilous and hard. I remember it: I was pregnant with my first baby, and tired. I had tried to be a mom for years to no avail before finally finding success. I knew I wanted to document my pregnancy. I knew I wanted to look like myself, but pregnant. The newborn photographers I hired either didn’t do maternity photos, or did maternity photos in that “extra” way my second friend described, with borrowed dresses and heavy makeup (neither of which is me, pregnant or not).

So what did I do? I took maternity photos myself. I brought along an “assistant” (aka my husband) and told him how to take each picture, where to focus each frame. I checked the lighting and the framing and used a tripod to keep those steady while he pushed the button and made sure each shot was (mostly) in focus. Talk about exhausting. Add in a toddler for our second pregnancy “session” (I insisted that we do it ourselves again the second time, fool me twice) and it’s a miracle we got anything usable at all. It was a stressful process (both times) and I couldn’t just relax and enjoy myself. I had to think about what was happening in front of the camera, behind the camera, and with my family at all times.

I think about how much calmer it would have been for me, how much more fun, if I’d hired someone I trusted, instead of trying to play photographer and client at the same time. I wish there had been someone who offered what I needed: both newborn and maternity photography. Someone who encouraged me to dress like me, who helped me find a beautiful location that didn’t require too much walking, and who didn’t charge me an arm, since I would already be gladly paying a leg for newborn photos.

The search for a maternity photographer, especially when you are already also searching for a newborn photographer, can be frustrating. It can be so frustrating that you choose not to do it at all. And then in 8 years you might look back with regrets. When the overwhelm of the moment is gone, when all you have left are the rose-colored glasses of motherhood… I’m not one to tell you what to do. But the difference between those two quotes, between the relief of someone who hired me, and the regret of someone who hired no one… you can draw your own conclusions.

If you know you’re looking for a photographer who can do both maternity and newborn photography, who will help you find a location, will encourage you to wear what makes you comfortable, and will let you be yourself during your sessions (along with some light instruction for the less confident), you can look through my maternity and newborn portfolio to see if my style matches yours. That’s the first good step on a photographer search.