Infertility inspires a photographer to capture hope

I hate the word “infertility,” so this is the last time you’ll read it here. 

I believe in speaking hope into myself and into others. I am fertile. You are fertile. We’re just unpacking blockages along the way and discovering what it means to be foundationally well.

Sometimes, we need to borrow each other’s hope when we feel like our own is spent. So that’s what I’m here for. To show you the hope blossoming from your own story. 

Our stories are what connect us to each other. As an English major, I always believed in the power of stories. Most importantly, our own. 

We see it in peoples’ faces when we share stories. The power of your story sinks deep and buries itself within their chest. Your story sends fireworks from their soul into their body, causing those compassionate lines to stretch across their face as they humbly mutter, “Wow" under their breath.

And that is only possible because your story came from you. 

I doubted what impact my story could make after I quit my dream career with a pain in my uterus, surrendering all that I knew for the unknowns of navigating our fertility journey.

I knew how I wanted the story to be written. I wanted to teach forever and be a mom. By now, I would already have one baby on my hip and probably be talking about our second. I would be piled head-deep in grading essays with no time for much else. I would continue putting off my Endometriosis excision surgery for the sake of waiting for a “better time.”

But I’m glad that I didn’t get the story that I wanted.

My story is one of pain into passion. Amidst my search for a newfound purpose, I took functional health courses and a fertility certification so that I could advocate for my and Joe's reproductive health. I realized that this knowledge could be used to help other women and couples advocate for themselves, so I started podcasting. All the while, I gave myself permission to rest, heal, and still be unsure about the direction my life was taking me.

And when the time arrived that I couldn’t be more unsure of the future, a plot twist entered my story.

Although it felt like I had surrendered so many of my childhood dreams, there was something that I had surrendered long ago to pursue those dreams, and this very thing found its way back to me, but this time, with a deeper sense of purpose. I had discovered my love for photography in high school and even considered majoring in it, but I put it aside to pursue other things. These other things had left my story, or, at least for a few chapters.

“Fertile Hope Photography” popped into my head one morning as I was scrambling eggs (oh, the irony). My mission was to offer women and couples exactly what I was desiring for myself: to feel seen and honored in our fertility journey.

I realize if my story did not read in the way that it does—with all the torn pages that seemed like a loss—then I would not be the photographer that I am now. 

Perhaps I would be more focused on what lens to buy than whose life to touch.

I know that Fertile Hope Photography is destined to touch lives because it’s exactly what I wanted for myself when I was one year into our fertility journey. I longed for a hug from somebody who would stand beside me in honoring my strength and capturing our story.

I am here to offer you that hug. If you are looking for someone who will take the time to listen and honor your story, all the while capturing the realness, beauty, and hope in the hard, then I’m so glad you found me.