Helen Joy’s Photographer Blog

Helen Joy George 5/6/18 Helen Joy George 5/6/18

ellie mae | on the night you were born

*Trigger Warning for Loss *

On the night you were born, the moon was full and ripe. Good Friday was hanging heavy in my heart; sacred and holy...but full of grief, so full of grief.

It's a strange thing to grieve at a birth before a first cry. A hesitant expectation. You shocked all the doctors, consistently defying the odds for months...but still we didn't know if there would even be a first cry.

When you were born, everyone held their breath. There was a hymn playing in the background as we waited, wide eyed, to see if you would breathe.

You did. You gurgled a cry.

You were created perfectly, Ellie Mae, even though your 6th chromosome was not there. Tears fell down my face as I photographed your tiny hands clutching at your daddy's finger, your lips, your perfect feet. There was no denying your creator loved you.

For days your family and friends gathered to wait for you, to welcome you. Ebbing in and out of the room like the tide; loving and serving and then giving space. It was obvious their love for you and your family. It was so deep, so tender, and such a beautiful part of your story.

The hours following your birth were filled with grandparents ooing and ahhing, just like they always do, tears, laughs, treasuring every minute. It felt a bit numb to me, like I was in a sacred dream. Your mama and daddy loved you for a lifetime in those minutes, in those hours.

The nurse and I sang the doxology over you. It wasn't pretty but it was beautiful.

I was so honored, so deeply honored to have witnessed your short life, Ellie Mae. God reached my heart in a way I didn't think possible that night.

When morning came your breaths had gradually finished. Gentle.

Your big sisters came to meet you full of joy. That's when the heaviness set in. Their eyes were bright as they discovered your tiny features, just like it always is with siblings.

A beloved blanket was given up, wrapping your tiny body in it. Chubby baby hands comforted Mama. They knew you weren't there but still they asked,

"Why can't we take her home, Mommy?"

My heart is broken that they couldn't.

Easter came two days later. Full of hope and life eternal.

Words cannot even touch the sorrow left in the hearts here.

I can't heal it, but I can shout from the roof tops that you lived!

I can share it far and wide: the beautiful story of your birth.

Helen Joy George 8/26/15 Helen Joy George 8/26/15

married in the clouds | michael and jill`

On the 4th of July, on a beautiful cool morning at Ceasar’s Head State Park, Michael married Jill and their families joined together as one. Jill used to come to Ceasar's Head as a child with her father, they scattered his ashes there after he passed away, Michael proposed to her there and so this was the exact spot that they wanted to get married.

These two have a quiet, strong love.

I’ve been photographing Jill and her extended family for years and last summer she had an extra sparkle in her eyes and her cheeks were youthful with a happy blush and then I met Michael and it all made sense. Michael is strong and protective and the way he wraps Jill in his arms makes me just sigh with happiness.

The day of the wedding was perfect. This overlook is usually crowded and I was worried that tourists and the hot weather would make it hard to photograph well and even then I was wondering how they would pull it off. But Ceasar’s Head was in the clouds that morning and a dewy drizzle covered everything in the most beautiful and sparkling haze. The groom and his men wore kilts and I swore we could have been in the highlands somewhere. It was straight out of a fairy tale.

One thing I loved about Jill was her unfaltering joy as she waited to walk down the aisle. It was raining on her wedding day and she was not just dealing with it, she was dancing!

For a few seconds after they were declared husband and wife, the clouds parted and you could see the outline of the mountains. And then the beautiful fog rolled right back in as if it was a soft embrace around the day.

www.helenjoy.com

Helen Joy George 8/10/15 Helen Joy George 8/10/15

24 minutes with Thompson

As a photographer, I have been witness to some of the most incredible and intimate moments of people's lives. Joyful weddings, births, moments of treasuring up the feeling of family and home. And every time I am just spellbound with the honor. I frequently capture these moments with tears streaming down my cheeks and a smile on my lips. And then I met Thompson.

2 weeks ago, I was able to witness and capture an entire life. 24 minutes with Thompson.

Several weeks ago, Thompson's mama wrote me an email inquiring about having pictures taken of her son who would be born with trisomy 13 and would not live very long, if he was born alive at all. This type of photography is something I do fairly frequently with Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep but I had never photographed a baby born alive in these type of situations. Since this was during my only free month without being on call, I didn't feel it was fair to my family to guarantee that I would be able to be there, but somewhere in my heart, I had a peace that things would line up and I would be able to be at delivery. It worked out for Lindsey and her family to come up to my mountains to do a few pictures of her carrying Thompson. This was important to me because I wanted to meet them before I was at the birth and death of their son and because I wanted to capture the joy she had in carrying him because even just through email, it was so evident.

5 days after these photos in the river, I got a call that she was 10 cm. This was her third baby and I knew that her second baby had been a fast labor. I jumped in my car and just prayed and trusted that I would make it in time to get all the moments I could. I started my trip (50 minutes from her hospital) with my gas light on...and I didn't stop. I arrived and ran through the halls with my camera in hand, to arrive 5 minutes before birth. What a gift!

As soon as I was in the room, I was struck by the peacefulness of it all. There was no steady heartbeat in the background, only silence. I'll never forget Lindsey commenting before she pushed that she felt that Thompson was already asleep. Tears poured down her cheeks as she prepared to meet her son, knowing that he had most likely already passed on.

Two quick pushes and tiny Thompson was born...and he cried...and we all cried and shouted with joy. He was born alive! For the next 24 minutes that tiny boy was cradled and whispered words of love, for he was so loved. For the next few hours I witnessed loved ones pour into the room and cradle him too. I witnessed his grandmother loving bathe every part of him while singing "Jesus loves me". I witnessed his strong father wrap his strong arms around his wife and tenderly hold his tiny son.

Those hours were sacred and I just will never forget the strength and love it took to put aside grief and instead rejoice over life, no matter how short it was.

Sweet Lindsey,

Your grateful spirit, strength and vulnerability make you quite a shining light. So grateful to know you and your beautfiul family. Thank you for carrying and birthing your beautiful boy with such grace and gratefulness. And thank you for allowing me to share Thompson's story with the world.