A heartfelt reflection on surrender, motherhood, and the sacred beauty of letting go.

Today I want to talk about something tender.

Something we don’t always have the words for. Something that touches us all — whether we’re holding a growing belly, a brand-new baby, a memory… or a quiet ache no one else can see.

I want to talk about what happens when things are out of our control.

Life doesn’t always follow the plan.

As women, as mothers, as hopeful souls, we often carry dreams of how things “should” go.

The birth plan. The perfect announcement. The sleepy baby snuggles we imagined.

But the truth is… life, especially life connected to birth and motherhood, rarely moves in a straight line. It twists. It turns. Sometimes it breaks us open.

As a doula and photographer, I’ve witnessed this so many times. I’ve stood beside women whose birth stories didn’t go as expected. I’ve held the space when labour slowed, or changed, or had to be rewritten entirely.

And I’ve wept silently while photographing love that arrived quietly — and left too soon.

Birth is the art of surrender.

There is no experience quite like labour to teach us how to let go.

It’s raw.

It’s sacred.

It’s unpredictable.

And it calls us into a different kind of power — not the power of control, but the power of trust. I’ve watched women roar and then weep. I’ve seen the moment where they stop trying to manage each surge and instead allow their body to guide them.

That moment — that surrender — is always breathtaking. It’s not giving up. It’s giving in to something bigger.

To instinct. To rhythm. To the ancient wisdom written into every contraction. And you know what? That surrender is often the very thing that opens the path for life to emerge.

When the plan changes...

Sometimes, even after all the hope, all the preparation, the outcome is different. Sometimes, the baby we longed for is lost before we meet them. Sometimes, birth is fast and furious. Sometimes, it’s long and complicated. And sometimes, it leaves us with more questions than answers. But even here — even when things feel upside down — I believe something beautiful still lives. Love shows up. In every tear. In every breath. In every quiet decision to keep going.

I believe God meets us in these tender spaces. Not with a quick fix, but with quiet grace. A reminder that presence matters more than perfection. That being here — in all of it — is holy.

This is the heart of my work.

As a doula, I hold space.

As a photographer, I capture truth.

Not just the pretty, polished moments — but the real, raw ones. The ones where you find out just how strong you really are.

Whether your birth is wild or whisper-quiet, whether your journey has joy or loss, I will be there. To support. To witness. To remember with you. Because even when things are out of our control...

Love never is.

For the mama in the in-between...

To the one who’s waiting. The one who’s grieving. The one whose story didn’t follow the script. You are not alone.

You are worthy. And your story — even now — deserves to be seen, held, honoured.

Keep breathing.

Keep trusting.

Keep opening your heart to what’s still possible.

With love,

Deborah xxx