While Mom and Dad catch a much needed nap in the next room, she quietly snuggles our new granddaughter and studies her, our Spencer Grey. I snap away from out in the hallway trying to capture them both, my girl, a new grandmother – a babcia, and the little girl we just met a few days ago. And as I watch them through my lens she is slowly taken to quiet tears by the little face and the words of a Polish lullaby softly drifting from her phone. They are tears of joy, of welcoming, a sort of melancholy happiness born of an old familiar song and a new exciting life. I’m forced to lower the camera and dry my eyes as the viewfinder has somehow clouded up.
The shots are black and white. There are no headbands or flower pots, no soft pastels or bright highlights – those pictures will come, and soon, but not now. I confess that my photos are influenced more by the likes of Dorothea Lange than Anne Geddes but that’s alright. I’m okay with that.
These, to me, are meaningful newborn photos.
Welcome Spencer Grey, we’ve been waiting to meet you.