The Faces I Missed Capturing (and Why They Matter)

Two moments from recent sessions that reminded me not everything sacred is meant to be documented.

---

A Reflection on 2025 Sessions

Last year I was so grateful to photograph a number of families.

Each one unique and delightful — but two sessions that happened this fall left me feeling like I missed an opportunity.

It’s funny… why would I tell you about something I missed? Isn’t that bad business.

Maybe. Probably.
But stay with me.

Two Sessions. Same Moment.

These back-to-back sessions were incredibly different.

One was with a 10-month-old baby girl.
The other was with two rambunctious preschool boys.

Different energy. Different pace. Different everything.

And yet, something happened in both sessions that was exactly the same.

Toward the end of our time together, there was a moment — as I was photographing each mom — when she turned her face toward my lens and…

With closed eyes…
and the most contented expression…
she laughed.

Her smile was huge.
Her closed eyes crinkled with pure delight.

It was one of the most peaceful, joy-filled faces.

And both times…

I missed it.

The Missed Shot

In one session, I had finished my roll of film and hadn’t yet loaded another.

In the second, my lens accidentally switched from manual focus to auto, and the shutter wouldn’t release.

Shooting film means there will always be missed or imperfect moments. It comes with the medium — there isn’t an endless supply of frames.

I remember seeing a film photographer post recently about this exact thing… learning to let go of the missed shots, because there will always be moments that go undocumented.

Still — I left their homes feeling defeated.

Not because I wanted the shot for me…
but because I wanted it for them.

I wanted them to see the radiance I saw beaming from their faces.

A Different Point of View

But as I was reflecting and praying through that disappointment, the Lord gently gave me a different perspective:

“Some pictures aren’t for taking. Some are for the heart.”

And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that.

Because those mamas gave me something my heart will carry forever.

A glimpse of themselves — a kind of beauty that can’t always be documented, because the human experience is sacred.

They gave me the look of someone radiant.
Contented.
Completely filled with presence and peace.

I had only spent a few hours with each of them - yet somehow - they gave me something I will never forget.

The Moments that Stay

It felt like an imprint.

Of their motherhood.
Of their ease.
Of their trust.

And honestly? It was also a reflection of how safe they felt in the vulnerable space of being photographed.

They mirrored back to me the joy and delight I felt capturing them.

And in a way, it reminded me of the face I imagine I give the Lord when He gazes upon me — when I look up to Him with a huge smile - crinkled, closed eyes - filled with immense gratitude for the gift of doing this work.

The Privilege I Carry

Lately, I’ve been thinking about past clients — the stories I carry long after their galleries have been delivered.

Because every mother and family I document isn’t a number.

They’re a piece of my heart.

And I think that’s part of what makes this work so holy to me. Because what I’m really doing is bearing witness — to the beauty and truth of your life in all its messy, chaotic, tender, ordinary glory.

Do You Long to Feel Deeply Seen in Motherhood

If you want photographs that feel like an exhale — the kind that hold presence, peace, and the real beauty of your motherhood — I’d be honored to photograph you.

You can reach out through my contact page and we’ll begin.