We commissioned a photographer to come in to capture the fleeting, diminutive moments of sparkling new life. Melissa came to our house ten days after Jude was born.
We knew this might be our last-ever baby, and I knew from firsthand experience that the newborn days, though they seem everlasting, fade into staticky grey in the blink of an eye.
Jude was a grumpy-ass newborn that day, all yellowed face and squinty eyed rage and Corey and I both wore white shirts that only showed off our purple-black face sacks. Nolan displayed the strained smile of a sleepless new brother, and though our photographer is a fiercely talented woman, the photos (though artistically shot!) were a fairly dismal reminder of what it is like to subsist in a hazy sleepless fog for several weeks.
It wasn’t Melissa’s fault, but our baby looked like a constipated, jaded centurion in every photo. So we had re-takes done when Jude was a tad more jovial, in the park close to our house.
This is my favourite shot of the bunch. I wish Nolan was in it though — he was off playing on a giant tree stump. But I love the light of this shot almost as much as I love my boys.