Nobody tells you how fast it goes.
One minute you're holding this tiny, scrunched-up person who wasn't here yesterday. The next, you're looking at photos from three weeks ago and they already look different. The cheeks have filled out. The fuzzy newborn hair has thinned. Those impossibly small fingernails are now just… small.
The first 48 hours disappear especially fast. It's a blur of adrenaline, exhaustion, and staring at this tiny human trying to figure out who they look like. But there are details in those hours that never come back.
The things you don't notice until they're gone
The way newborns curl up. They've spent nine months in a tight ball, and for those first few days they stay that way. Knees tucked up. Arms pulled in. Chin to chest. It's called physiological flexion, and it disappears within a week or two as their muscles relax into the wider world.
The vernix. That white, waxy coating on their skin. It protects them in the womb and gets absorbed within the first day or two. In photos, it gives their skin this soft, pearly quality that's impossible to replicate later.
The peeling feet. Newborn skin, especially on hands and feet, peels in the first week. It looks like tiny flakes of tissue paper. I've had parents tell me they'd forgotten about it entirely until they saw it in a photograph.
The sleep smiles. They're not real smiles, just reflexes, but they're impossibly sweet. And they mostly happen in the first few days.
Why I shoot early
I recommend booking newborn sessions within the first 5 to 14 days. Earlier than that and mum is still recovering. Later than that and baby has started to unfurl. That deep, curled-up sleep that lets us pose them so peacefully? It's a narrow window.
I know booking a photoshoot when you've just had a baby sounds stressful. That's why I come to you. Your home, your sofa, your rhythm. I bring everything I need and work around the baby. If they need feeding, we pause. If they need holding, you hold them. No rush, no studio lights, no pressure.
The detail you can hold
Photos freeze a moment. A 3D cast freezes a dimension. Those tiny fingers that wrapped around yours at 3am. The creases on the soles of their feet that you traced while they slept on your chest. A cast captures the actual size, the actual shape. Years later you can hold it and remember exactly how small they were.
This is why I do both. Photos for the face, the expressions, the light. Casts for the physical reality of them at that size. Together they tell the complete story of those first days.
One thing I'll say
I know it feels like you'll remember everything. You won't. The sleep deprivation steals details quietly. One day you'll try to remember whether their ears were folded over or if you imagined it. You'll wish you had a photo of their feet before they straightened out.
The window is small. But it's enough.
If you're expecting or have just welcomed a little one, get in touch. I'll work around your schedule, your home, and your baby's mood.