Capturing the Miracle: A Photographer's Perspective on Caitlynn's Birth Experience

All information has been written in collaboration with and reviewed by the birthing person.

All stories and images are shared with verbal and/or written consent from the subjects.

I only knew Lindy for one night.

Before that night, I didn’t know her parents. I didn’t know their story. I didn’t know her name or the way that she had already shaped their lives. They were strangers to me before I walked into that room. But, now I will always know them. I will always know Lindy. 

I met Lindy on November 14th, 2025. Though her story began long before that. 

On March 3rd, 2025, Caitlynn found out that she was pregnant. Though it was a shock, she realized on this day that she would be a mother. It was the first month that they had “tried”, so she didn’t really let herself believe it at first. She took one of those little strip tests, flipped it over, saw the line, and said out loud, “holy shit.” She took another test. Still positive. She still did not believe it. At 7:45am, she drove to Dillons and bought one of the tests that says Pregnant / Not Pregnant. When it confirmed her pregnancy for the third time, she cried. She continued on the entire day giddy, carrying a secret that only she and her baby knew.

Caitlynn’s pregnancy with Lindy was not always easy, but she loved it so much. To carry another human while still working, still showing up for her responsibilities, and while navigating daily life is exhausting in ways that people don’t talk about enough. But still, she loved having Lindy with her for every minute. She had quite the personality. Around twenty weeks, Caitlynn was driving home from work and Lindy started kicking. She poked her back in the belly, curious about how Lindy might react and little Lindy Ann kicked her right back in that same spot. Caitlynn felt like it was a silly story, but it was also a time where she felt most connected to her little girl. She knew that she was chosen to be Lindy’s mother. 

Caitlynn and David did not share Lindy’s name with many people. Instead, they had a silly nickname for her, which was an inside joke that made its way through the whole family. Her grandma even made her a little baby book that was called “GG loves Kelbo”. Her real name, Lindy Ann, is after Caitlynn’s grandpa whose middle name was Lindberg and was nicknamed “Lindy”. Her middle name came a little differently. David and Caitlynn were out at dinner one night, eating Indian food, before they were even pregnant, when David casually suggested “How about Ann?” and it instantly felt right. Lindy Ann was always meant to be and was an incredibly meaningful name to them. 

Caitlynn wasn’t afraid of birth. She was eager for the day. When that day came, it would mean she would be meeting her baby girl. Giving birth meant holding Lindy Ann, finally, a day she long awaited for. She always knew that David would be a good birth partner. There was never any question about that. He is steady, reliable, and the person who believes in her most. During her pregnancy, Caitlynn talked to David often about the moment Lindy would be born and what it would be like for David to finally hold her too.

On November 13th, they went to labor and delivery. They thought that Caitlynn was in active labor. They were excited, like the excitement that you feel when you press the button outside those double doors and say “We are here to have a baby!”. In triage, a nurse named Maria cared for Caitlynn. Maria was one of the last people to hear Lindy’s heartbeat. Caitlynn was 4.5cm dilated, but Lindy was not engaged in her pelvis at all. “This broke my heart when she told me this, I really thought she was engaged just by the way my belly looked.”, she told me. After a few hours of contractions at the hospital, there wasn’t any cervical change, so they could either labor longer at home or wait a few more hours at the hospital. They stayed a few more hours, using a birthing ball and walking around. She progressed to 5cm and they gave her the option to induce active labor or go home. Her body knew what it was doing, so she decided to trust it, and “let it do its thing” as she told me later on. They went home. 

She labored at home all night. She switched between a birth ball, the shower, and napping. She told me that she got very little sleep that night. She will never forget how active she was around 2am in the shower. “She was moving SO much.”, she said. Caitlynn was really frustrated that her water wouldn’t break. She told me that sometimes she feels like she should’ve known something was wrong by the way she was moving. How could she know something was wrong? Those big kicks and vibrant movements were a huge part of her personality. 

The morning of the 14th, Caitlynn was sitting up in the couch, trying to catch a little bit of sleep. David kissed her goodbye and left for work. She was able to get a 30 minute, light nap. Around 9am, after texting her sister that she was hoping her baby might share a birthday with her, she realized that she hadn’t felt Lindy move in a while. She drank a Sprite. Caitlynn knew that a good Sprite always got Lindy excited and moving. This time it didn’t. Caitlynn texted David “I haven’t felt Lindy move in a while, I’m drinking a sprite right now to see if that gets her moving, but it hasn’t so far.” He called her immediately and asked if they should go to the hospital. Caitlynn told me that she broke down crying and told him “I don’t know, I think I’m just overreacting.” This stood out to me. 

David was at their house ten minutes later, even though his work is about double the drive away. She told me “He busted through the door, started grabbing our toiletries, and was honestly kind of scaring me with. How urgent he was being, because before I had texted him that I thought I was just overreacting.” David drove them to the hospital and again, arrived in about half the time it should normally take to get there. After getting through security, they arrived at the check in office, where there was no one. David called and talked to someone, answering question after question, all while Caitlynn cried. Everything seemed to move slow – security, check in, waiting in triage. Then a nurse came in and used a doppler to try and find Lindy’s heartbeat, but before she ever put the wand on her belly, Caitlynn knew that Lindy’s soul had left her. “I just knew Lindy was gone.”, she shared with me. 

After a sonographer came and confirmed that Lindy Ann no longer had a heartbeat, Caitlynn screamed. Her heart was shattered. She told me that all she could think was “This can’t be happening. How is this happening to me? She was fine yesterday.” Over and over. She and David cried together for a long time, before eventually calling their moms to tell them the news and ask them to tell everyone else. She remembers their reactions vividly. Their mother’s joined them at the hospital, and that is when Caitlynn told her mom Lindy’s name. She was so excited her whole pregnancy to tell her Lindy’s name, because she knew how meaningful it was and how much she would love it. 

Her OB, doctor Kieffer came into the room. Caitlynn told me that she broke down crying when she saw her. She was so confused and mourned with them. She told her that she had cancelled all of her appointments for the next few days so that she could be with them to deliver. “I am so incredibly grateful for her.”, Caitlynn noted with importance. 

Eventually they moved to a labor room. They waited there for a while. Caitlynn ordered chicken strips and told me that they were really gross. She said that when she went to the restroom, David went with her and said “I would fall to the floor in devastation and tears.”

“I honestly don’t even remember when I told them I was ready to start induction or how I finally came to that conclusion.”, Caitlynn said. 

I was on a break from births, when I got the call, inviting me to document the next part of David, Caitlynn, and Lindy’s story. Twice a year, I step back. Three to five births a month is taxing emotionally and physically, even when you love the work. Especially when you love it. My body and heart needed rest. But this was bereavement. A baby who would be born sleeping. There was no hesitation, of course I would go. 

This is why presence matters. This is why professionalism, training, certifications, and continued education matter. When you step into the most intimate, devastating, sacred day of someone’s life as a complete outsider, you don’t get to “wing it”. You show up steady, prepared, and ready to hold space without taking it. You document and protect the story as it unfolds. 

I met Lindy Ann on November 14th.

I arrived at the hospital on November 14th at 9:00PM. At security, the guard asked what brought me in so late. When I told him, he paused. Then, to my surprise, this stranger, a tough, older, male security guard, told me that he wished he had known about bereavement photography and then told me how he wished he could have had this for his baby, years ago, who had been born sleeping. This was a very significant conversation to me, one that I will never forget, and for that, I believe that I was supposed to be there that time on that day. After our conversation, I walked to the elevator and went up to the fourth floor, where I would meet another stranger that I would never forget.  

Earlier that day, before I arrived, Caitlynn had faced on of the hardest moments of her life. When it was time to move from triage to labor and delivery, she and David had to walk up to those big double doors. The same doors, that they had once excitedly envisioned and celebrated getting to press the button and announce that they were there to have a baby. She didn’t want to press the button. She didn’t want to say those words anymore. She did not want to do any of this, she later told me. The only reason that she made it through those doors was because of God and because David was there next to her, holding her. 

When Cathy, her nurse, sat her on the bed and said gently, “We can start whenever you’re ready,” Caitlynn thought, “I am never going to be ready to part from my daughter”. She shared with me later that there was no true readiness, only the decision not to delay it any longer and to trust the people around her to help her through it. Cathy explained the entire process to her and how her birth experience would play out. At the end of her spiel, she mentioned that they have a photographer that they can call for when losses happen. She explained that I would take photos of Lindy, and the birth. Caitlynn told me that she could remember being kind of skeptical, thinking “Would I really want THIS being captured? I never want to remember this.” But then she looked over at David and it just clicked, she told me that she knew they would regret not having any photos of their experience. She told me they did not even have a conversation out loud, they just knew by looking at each other, that documenting their experience was exactly the right choice in that moment. 

When I entered their room, I met Caitlynn and David for the first time. She was 40 weeks and two days pregnant. They told me that they were having a baby girl. The room was quiet. The nurse, Tesla was incredibly kind and welcoming. She became an intricate part in their story. We talked about any preferences they might have for documentation and what to expect from me and my presence in the room. We waited for Lindy to descend. The sounds were small. Gentle whispers and soft sniffles. You could hear the steady hum of the medication pumps and the absence of what usually fills a delivery room….the thumping of a heartbeat on the monitor.

Throughout the night, David stayed close, brushing her arm, reminding her to breathe. When they checked her cervix and found that she was complete, he whispered encouragement. “Deep breaths.” Over and over. They paused and called the OB.

At 9:55PM, her OB walked in. Caitlynn prepared to push. I watched her hands tremble. David wiped her tears and reminded her of how strong she was and continuously breathed deeply with her. 

She began to push, with soft whimpers. Her pushing was controlled and focused, but not with full effort. Lindy moved slowly. 45 minutes passed and at 10:45PM, Caitlynn looked at David and said, “I’m not ready”, and then said “I love you”. Pushing was a slow phase of labor. The nurses helped her change positions a few times, to help Lindy descend. After a few changes, she asked to return to her back. It felt best to her body and she trusted herself. Maria was there again helping Caitlynn push. 

By 11:30PM, she was close. Lindy’s head was right there. Tesla reminded her “You are safe.” The language she used to comfort and encourage her through her labor really stood out to me. Caitlynn replied “I’m so tired.” Her OB stepped out briefly and when she returned, Caitlynn said quietly, “I want to be done.” About 10 minutes later, Caitlynn said that there was so much pressure and she needed to push. At 11:50PM, Lindy’s beautiful hair was visible. 

She pushed for 26 more minutes. She wasn’t giving everything she had for part of that time, not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t want Lindy to leave her body. She wasn’t ready for that permanent separation. One of her nurses, Tesla counted slowly, on purpose, to use her entire contraction, and to Caitlynn, it felt unbearable, she later shared with me. Ten seconds felt more like double that. Her legs cramped. Her body shook. She screamed louder than she ever had before. It was the most significant sound of the night. When the widest part of Lindy’s head crowned, the pain was unlike anything she had ever felt. 

David had turned on worship music a little while ago, something that he knew would be meaningful to Caitlynn. The words filled the room, and she could cling to them. They could remind her that Lindy would be waiting in the best place wrapped in Jesus’ arms, and that she would see her baby again. At 12:16AM, Caitlynn surrendered. She birthed her baby.

Lindy Ann Huesers was born weighing 8 pounds, 3.7 ounces. Bigger than anyone had expected. With a big head that later brought laughter through tears. She had never wanted to hear a baby cry more than she did in that moment. Holding her baby for the first time was Caitlynn’s favorite moment of her entire experience.

David cut the cord. Then he held her. He took off his shirt and held her against his chest, just his skin and hers. This was something that Caitlynn and David had talked about so many times during pregnancy. It was an important moment. It was one that he would never forget. 

After they weighed and measured baby Lindy, we moved into a bereavement portrait session. Through their sorrow, you could still see the hints of joy as they watched their baby girl get measured like every other baby.

Up until this point, Caitlynn had barely realized I was there during the labor and delivery. She told me that normally she would have been self-conscious, but on this day, none of that mattered. She later shared “Your presence made me feel more confident in myself.” She also told me that she felt like she didn’t deserve documentation for some reason. “Why would this person be here just for me? But it made me feel really good and taken care of.”, she said when we talked about my role.

Seeing the photos afterward changed everything for them. It put things into perspective as she described. She was able to see how red her face was, and even though she felt like she was not giving it her all, she could see the effort she gave. She could see her baby crown, the moment she left her body. She could see the truth in what her body did. She saw David too. She saw him breathing with her and holding her hand. The gallery was heartbreaking, but she finally understood the extent of her strength. 

Grief has not been linear for them. “Some days are unbearable. Some days feel almost normal.” She said. Caitlynn honors her body now. Her stretch marks connect her to Lindy. She is sure of herself in ways that she never was before. 

Lindy brought joy. That is what her parents want remembered. Joy louder than sadness. A baby who kicked back when her mama poked her belly. Despite the sorrow of the day, it brought her immense joy to share Lindy’s name with everyone. Sharing her name with her nurses helped make the experience feel a little more normal. Even the birth itself, difficult and painful, she loved. She told me “I never expected to love giving birth as much as I do.” She also said that she had never been happier than when she was pregnant. Her baby was so goofy and Caitlynn was so happy, because Lindy was with her. When I asked Caitlynn “Is there a sentence you’d love to see written about your birth?”, her response was “It was beautiful.”

I only knew Lindy for one day, but I will remember her for the rest of my life. 

A message to Lindy - “You touched the lives of so many people. I miss you. I love you now and forever. You make your dad and I so happy and we are so excited to see you again. ” – Caitlynn

A message to the reader - "For anyone experiencing anything similar to my story: God loves you and God is with you. You will see your baby again. Every day feels daunting and unfaceable, but you can do it. You are so much stronger than you think you are. Take it one breath at a time. For anyone else: hug your babies. Never take a middle-of-the-night wake-up or a diaper blowout for granted. I would give anything to be changing diapers and rocking my baby right now. Don't take anything for granted because there are so many people who would give anything to be where you are." - Caitlynn & David