Helen Joy’s Photographer Blog

Helen Joy George 1/5/16 Helen Joy George 1/5/16

jessica's story | the home birth of forest

A little over two years ago, I attended the birth of the 3rd baby girl in the sweetest family. While mama brought their sister into the world, the older two watched with wide eyed wonder. They were the sweetest little doulas, always rubbing mama's back and giving her water. I was just over the moon excited when I found out that baby number four was expected and that this birth would be taking place at home. And it would be at home on the birthing day that they would find out if they would have 4 girls or their first boy.

Something had changed in Jessica since her last birth. There was a deep belief in her body that wasn't there last time. And even though I could see her doubting at times if her decision to birth at home was the right one, an overwhelming peace would soon overtake her. I rarely have seen a woman so surrendered before labor even started.

Everything was ready, everything was nearly perfect for baby's arrival. All we had to do was wait and that is sometimes the hardest part. During the waiting and the wonderful anticipation of new life, Jessica got the heartbreaking news that her brother had died unexpectedly. I received a devastated text from her letting me know and she expressed such grief and so much anxiety about having that baby in her arms safe and sound. Broken hearts have such an ability to weaken even the strongest of people. Jessica was broken hearted and weak and suddenly a home birth seemed nearly impossible to even think about. Two days later, in the middle of the pouring rain of Hurricane Joaquin, I got the call that her water had broken.

I arrived to little girls excitedly running around, finishing their breakfasts and a mama in active labor. Joy and sorrow filled the air. Tender little hands rubbed and helped, loving women surrounded and gently encouraged, and mama clung to her love like he was her rock in a stormy sea. It wasn't long before a baby was born and big sister announced that it was a little boy. After the tears and the shocked squeals died down there was this collective exhale in the room. He was here. He was safe. Joy had come during mourning and I couldn't help but think about the significance of bringing a son into the world the same week a son had left it.

This baby is adored. I was in heaven just clicking away as sisters held and cradled and giggled and oooohed and aaaaaahed at their baby. Grilled cheese sandwiches were made and mama settled into her own bed, her hard work was done and her patience and belief in her body had paid off. Daddy was still just grinning ear to ear in disbelief that he had a son at last.

These images tell a beautiful story, Forest's story. It is fringed in sorrows and will always be a reminder of a time of intense grief. I am so grateful to this family for letting me be there to tell it. New life is always a time to be in awe of the wonder of it all, and it gives us hope, beautiful, beautiful hope.

Helen Joy George 12/28/15 Helen Joy George 12/28/15

the year of "be" | coming up from nearly drowning

I'm sitting here with the doors open and the beautiful rain falling outside. It's the first chance I've had to sit down and process our Christmas season and my heart is just filled with gratitude. It was not perfect. In fact, it was far from it. There was arguing, a LOT of sickness, plans that didn't work out, feelings of being overwhelmed and sadness as we mourned many losses this season. But If I were to sum up our Christmas I would say it was full.

The good kind of full.

Every Christmas when I pack up my decorations I ponder how things went and compare that to my expectations.

I am always disappointed.

So I've taken to writing myself a little note to tape to the top of my Christmas decoration box. Last year I taped this to the top:

I remember last year so vividly. We had just moved and chaos surrounded us with boxes and things in the wrong place. I was extremely depressed. I hadn't slept in 7 years. I remember forcing my family to go get a tree in the day between moving and me going to the Wildflower's Workshop in Florida. I had strep throat and a high fever and I remember bawling and yelling as we decorated our tree because things weren't going like I pictured they should. My children's scared, wide eyes broke my heart, but I couldn't stop myself. My husband ended up leaving the room. The season was filled with lots of tears as time after time I was disappointed; in my children, in my expectations but mostly in myself.

This month feels like the first gasp of fresh air after nearly drowning. It's been 10 years of feeling like if I don't stop trying or doing I will surely drown. I'm suddenly aware that maybe this drowning, this doesn't have to be my life.

I'm sleeping through the night now. I'm seeing a wonderful natural doctor who is helping me regain my health and learn to trust my body again. A beautiful soul of a woman has been meeting with me weekly and helping me figure out the logistics of how to live MY life (not the best way to live someone else's perfect life). 6 months of intensive marriage counseling has broken down walls and given me a deep love and a bright hope for the future. I have rebranded my business and I have said "no" often. All of these things are wonderful. A lot of hard work has taken place in this year. This has been the year of stretching. This has been the year of hard work.

That little note on my Christmas box and the energy that is finally returning to my weary body provided the ability to "just be" this Christmas. There were many times I had to throw up my hands and say, "This. Does. Not. Matter", many moments I had to step outside and breathe in the air and clear my head of expectation. There were many times I messed up and apologies were necessary. But I have a heart full of beautiful moments: unforced, real, special moments with my family. The tears were far less and the joy was much more.

I've never been one to take hold of new years resolutions, because I'm more of a goal girl all year round. After this year of work I am ready for a beautiful year of growth. January 1st can come and I will welcome it with open arms instead of groans.

As I've been processing things, I thought about calling this the year of "me". I have neglected my body and soul much over the years and I don't want to drown anymore. I want to breathe! But the year of "me" makes me think of the desperate grasping at straws of worth. Of hobbies that don't fill hearts and time away from family trying to quiet the chaos.

In the end, a year of me is not what I need. I need a year, no a lifetime, of "be". Of just being; of allowing expectations to fall by the wayside and just being present, the year of taking the time to sit on a mountain top with no agenda but just being there and being still, of evenings sitting hand in hand with Noah in conversation instead of filling my mind with distractions and mind numbing tv. I am confident that this slight change in my heart will lead to much joy and the drawing together of our family.

Here's to a year of digging down deep and growing up tall.

Helen Joy George 11/11/15 Helen Joy George 11/11/15

adventuring with the davis family | pisgah national forest

Every child begins the world again.

-Henry David Thoreau

About a month ago, I spent the afternoon with the Davis family and my camera.

It was the sweetest time spent admiring lego creations, running outside in the fresh fall air, recounting Jack’s birth story and just celebrating the joy of family. Jack's feet hang well past his mama's knees when she holds him but he still lets her smother him with kisses as he giggles with his little nose wrinkled up. This season is sweet for them and I love the images we captured.