The fetal heart monitor was beating away, a perfect rhythm for what was about to occur. Whoosh whoosh whoosh. I had been hired to photograph a birth. A birth, folks. And it was happening. There was no turning back. I swallowed my emotions, which, yeah, were all over this place. This hospital, this very doctor, was mine four years ago.
When I was hired, I told myself - "You can do this, Jessi."
No matter that your birth went horribly wrong.
No matter that you felt this doctor missed huge indicators of something not quite right.
No matter to any of this.
You are strong, Jessi. You can do this.
And so I did. I photographed the most beautiful birth I have ever seen. I watched a husband and wife work through contractions and together with such love. I watched a doctor do an excellent job. I saw a woman give her all and then hold a beautiful, healthy baby in her arms.
It was so healing.
And then I went home and grabbed my boy. My perfect boy.
His birth was far from perfect. But he, his very being, is perfect.