tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50873056659708648572023-11-16T09:55:35.404-08:00Yesterday A Moment LaterRobyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.comBlogger252125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-58991099469901748252017-04-02T13:32:00.001-07:002017-11-15T22:03:56.054-08:00Theresa and Brad engagedThis wasn't my most graceful photo shoot, as it was the last one I did (at 8.5 months pregnant) before taking a break for a few months, but it was still a winner. From the Presidio to North Beach, it was filled with light and color. And from Theresa to Brad, it was filled with laughter and love! These two have a tenderness and a giddiness that is infectious!<br />
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* I'm still months (read: over a year) behind with getting my new site and blog together, and since Verité is no longer a thing I've been feeling like I shouldn't post on that blog anymore. So mostly that means I've simply not been posting much of anything anywhere. But with baby #3 now on the scene I don't have super high hopes for the new RKP site/blog to get done anytime soon so am trying to put some things up <i>some</i>where! Thus the reason for seeing some wedding-related stuff on this old blog.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/015._engagement_photographer_sf_thebra.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-90299492453204916412017-03-20T11:08:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:12:33.283-08:00Clementine's Birth<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/015my_birth_020.jpg" /><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Clementine is my bonus baby; I didn’t think she would exist.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I’ve always loved the idea of a family ever so slightly chaotic in size, meaning three, but Shawn liked the idea of one, so two was the clear compromise, and I was completely good with that. We were super happy as we were and I honestly never felt the desire to push the matter. As much as I loved the idea of three kids, I knew it made no sense. We don’t have enough money or space or time for the two we already had. So even though there was a minuscule ache when I saw families with three kids, I was totally fine with the fact that we were done having kids. And we were, in fact, solidly done. We got rid of all our baby stuff, bought the perfect family of four car, Shawn got two <i>symmetrical</i> tattoos, representing the two of them, on each of his only <i>two</i> arms, and then- and this is another long story that I won’t go into here- but essentially, completely out of left field, no--out of somewhere outside the ballpark, Shawn opened up the conversation and left the decision in my hands. The evolution of my decision process is yet another long story, but basically, I would have assumed that Shawn being on board would have lead to an easy “let’s do this”, but turns out it was a much tougher decision once it was actually on the table. After about eight months of going back and forth every few days, sometimes every few hours, I decided to “give it three months”. I didn’t actually think it would happen, but like a religious zealot or a teenage girl or something, I was just sorta like, “we’ll see what happens”. When my doctor was removing the IUD she let me know that the chances of getting pregnant in that timespan were unlikely and if I really wanted it to happen I needed to give it longer than that (<i>and</i> go on the medication I had to be on to get pregnant with the other two), but I was like, if it doesn’t happen without the med then it wasn’t meant to be and I was strangely super confident that any later than three months from then, and I’d be uninterested. So, I was giving the universe a little chance (or something completely illogical along those lines). And then, I got pregnant the next day. Literally.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I first took a test it was a bit unclear, so I spent the next 7 days avoiding taking another one. I think the idea of either result scared me. If I took another one and it was obvious that this was happening, I feared I would freak out; all the reasons for not doing it that I’d obsessed over during the prior eight months rushed to the forefront of my mind. If I took another one and learned there was no zygote in there, I feared I’d be so disappointed; I was quickly running out of chances. But I think my fear was tipped slightly to the “this is really happening” side of the scale. And when it was confirmed, my reaction was definitely more along the lines of “What the hell did I just do?” There might have even been some confused tears in the days that followed. Shawn accused me of being a Brexiter, “You voted for this!” he reminded me. I know, but I didn’t think it would actually <i>happen</i>! (Brexiter, indeed). And then I got excited again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> Given this was my bonus baby, I felt like I had this unexpected opportunity to have the birth I’d always wanted and I got serious about having a home birth. I’d read a lot about various types of birth in my prior pregnancies, and I was sold on the idea of having her at home. But I knew the idea still scared Shawn and I knew my mom would hate it and I knew I’d have plenty of other people around me who would likely think I wasn’t being very smart. But the more I thought about it and researched things, the stronger I felt about it. So I started by bringing it up at my first prenatal doctor’s office visit. I kinda assumed the standard response would be “we don’t recommend it”, but the nurse actually responded very positively and let me know that in fact, some of the doctors in their very office had opted for a home birth. I went to one more visit at my OB’s office. She gave me a recent paper on home birth and I took that and several others I’d come across and presented them to Shawn. We read, we talked, and at around four months we decided to plan for a home birth. (As a side note here, that guy deserves some serious acknowledgement for finding it within himself to explore this idea that initially he felt pretty uncomfortable with, just because he knew it mattered to me.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I completely get that a home birth is not the right approach for everyone, but I had lots of reasons why I loved the idea, and medically, it made sense for me. I had great experiences at the hospital with both of my other deliveries but the more I read and learned, the more I felt home birth would be a safer, more peaceful, and more empowering experience for me-- less unnecessary intervention, more ability to make my own decisions and let things progress more intuitively, a giant warm tub, my <i>home</i>--"home" has become more and more powerful to me both in its <i>actual</i> and <i>symbolic</i> nature and I loved the idea of an event with this level of importance happening there, Berkeley and Wren being able to be a part of it, and the freedom to surround myself with humans who, in various ways, bring Shawn and I inspiration, support, love, strength, and comfort.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Making that initial decision to have a home birth was the more difficult one, but the decision about who to have attend the birth felt much easier. Maria was the only midwife I even met with. I know some people interview several before deciding on the one that feels like the best fit for them, but I had known so many people that used Maria and raved about her, and while I didn’t feel like I had this immediate connection with her, I just liked that she had sorta a no-nonsense air about her. She was confident and so clearly capable and I thought, yep- she’ll do just fine!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So to get to the actual birth, on Wednesday February 15th, I was three days overdue. I was feeling a bit indulgent about my schedule for the day; I had basically a full day to myself to run errands and focus on my body and baby. (I would usually be working on Wednesdays when my mom has the kids but truthfully I’d barely worked the last few weeks as my mental focus had shifted to nesting!). I realize <i>going to Home Depot without kids</i> is not exactly “Living the Dream”, but it’s something I rarely do so it felt indulgent. I had an acupuncture appt for 1:30; my midwife had actually suggested I start going to them a few weeks earlier, but it kept conveniently not working out. (As much as I didn’t want to increase the likelihood of having to go to the hospital due to going way past my due date, I also couldn’t really get behind the idea of nudging her to come out any earlier; this was mostly for selfish reasons as each day before she arrived was a chance to maybe cross <i>one more thing</i> off my to-do list! But also, because Berkeley and Wren were both 12 days late, I just sorta felt like “my babies like to be extra well done- I should let them”). So when my midwife’s father-in-law passed away and she was on the East Coast until the 8th, I postponed scheduling the acupuncture, and then when Jamae was out of town for work from the 9th-12th, I postponed again, and then how hard is it to share your birthday with a big holiday, so I postponed until after the 14th. It’s funny--I had literally jokingly told a few people, “I’m planning on the 15th” just cause it was the first day, post due date, that seemed convenient for me. So I went to the acupuncture appt., and I don’t know <i>what</i> was happening there, but it definitely felt like <i>something</i> was happening as the baby was moving all about during the session. I left there and had a nice little lunch by myself and then went to the antenatal center for my NST appt. The nurse there, Martina, who I would sincerely like to be friends with, told me in that <i>I’m-probably-not-supposed-to-say-this</i> voice that she felt like it would be soon, as I was having contractions every 5-8 minutes. I knew that I had been having a lot of them, but since they mostly weren’t painful, and since a lot of times I was busy and likely not noticing, and since it had been happening on and off for days/weeks, I don’t think I’d noticed it was quite that consistent. But something about her relaying that information made my mind shift. I left there around 4:30 and kept hearing the words “every 5-8 minutes” in my head. I got home and then Wren and my mom and I headed down to Lucette’s house to go get Berkeley. It was a really beautiful evening out and I enjoyed the walk.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Around 7:00 Berkeley and Shawn went to go deliver belated Valentines to a few friends and I think I was starting to feel a little bit more goings-ons at this time because I remember trying to decide if I would feel better driving the car around or getting Wren ready for bed--both sounded like more movement than I was excited about. I opted for staying home and getting Wren ready, and when they got back home I was in bed reading with her, being slightly more insistent than usual about her not crawling on me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">As awkward and uncomfortable as climbing in and out of a bunk bed is, and as exhausting as chasing a 3 year old around with a toothbrush is, continuing to fumble through the whole nighttime routine with the girls for the entire 9 months of pregnancy was a point of slight pride for me (you take it where you can find it, you know), so when I excused myself from lying with them for the night, it probably should have been a sign something was different. Yet I was still in denial. I was just gonna go rest in my bed. Around 8:30, even though I was still half convinced this was just another spell of the same contractions I’d been having sporadically over the last few weeks, I thought I should maybe start timing them. I did this as I read one of my childbirth books (which looking back makes me laugh a little; I’ve always been a last-minute crammer when it comes to studying). After an hour of them being mostly 4 minutes apart, I still wasn’t convinced. There was a few in there that were 8 mins apart and one that was 13 and I kept thinking, <i>I bet the next one will be 13 again</i>. Liesel just happened to call me that evening to see how I was doing and even though there was a minute of our conversation that I had to be silent due to the increasing intensity of the contractions, I was still telling her it may be nothing. I finally decided to just <i>text</i> Maria at 9:30 and let her know lots were happening, but, <i>you know, nothing to be concerned about quite yet </i>:) I’m not sure why I was in such denial. I somehow still wasn’t <i>quite</i> ready. One more day would be perfect I thought. My mom spends the night on Wednesdays during the winter and I was, for some reason, stressed about the idea of her bed being set up on the couch if the baby were to come that night. (I know that makes no sense- your mind does weird things when your body is doing weird things). Shortly thereafter, I decided to take a shower and as I got up to do that, I conceded it was happening. So Shawn called Maria and Jamae. After I got out of the shower, I quickly got to the place where I was no longer quite aware of the things happening around me and my focus went inward.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don’t remember the order of all these events but I think Maria got there first (around 10:30) and came in to check on me but she just told me to keep “doing my thing” while she got set up. When she came back a bit later to actually check my body she said I was at a 6, but super soft and that things would progress quickly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fun Fact Side Note: I love the smell of lavender, but I had lately become <i>obsessed</i> with it and put it in the diffuser all the time. A few nights earlier I literally got up in the middle of the night to put some oils in a roller so I could roll it all over my neck and arms and then trap myself under the covers and breathe it in as much as possible– it was like some crazy consumed drug addict move--googling how to make the best lavender scent combo at 1:00 in the morning and then hot boxing myself under my covers to make the effect more powerful . . . <i>But</i> on this night, when I lay there on the bed laboring, trying to relax myself with lavender in the diffuser, I quickly wanted to barf and couldn’t stand the smell ;)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I wanted to throw-up for a while. I had some medication ready for this since I knew from my last two labors that I spew, but Maria suggested I wait just a bit, and oddly the sensation went away after a while (and Piper’s birthday cupcake stayed inside me).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I then got really focused on peeing. Every time a contraction came I had to pee so bad and I would think, <i>k after this one I’m gonna go</i>. But with both this and Wren’s labors, they happened so quick and were so intense that there just wasn’t much of a break in between them. I had barely recovered from one ending when I could tell the next one was going to start. And I couldn’t seem to remember my plans for those tiny breaks . . . which is weird now that I think about it; it was almost like my thoughts were most clear when the contraction was happening. I would have a thought about what I wanted or needed to say or do once it was over, but then it would end and I became completely lame at relaying that need, like I couldn’t even remember it. After some time though I was finally able to say I needed to pee, but I kinda wanted to cry because I simultaneously knew I wouldn’t be able to get to the bathroom. In my laboring mind, I felt I was in this impossible situation. Luckily someone, I think Sue, suggested I sit on the birthing stool right there next to the bed and just have one of those medical pads underneath, so finally “in between” contractions I stood up to do that and I remember Jamae saying, “this is gonna be a different sensation”, and then one second later I was like “Hell yes it is- this was a terrible idea! Put me back on the bed!” But after I peed on the piddle pad like a well-trained Terrier, I ended up staying there for a few contractions leaning over on Jamae’s shoulder, then on Shawn’s, and then I made it back onto the bed, despite wondering why my bed was so effing high off the ground?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Shortly thereafter Maria asked if I wanted to have the baby in the tub, and even though I knew it meant moving again I said yes. I think I almost surprised myself with that answer because although the tub was where I wanted to be, the idea of having to <i>get</i> there, 30 feet away in the living room, truly seemed impossible. But again, somehow it happened. I can’t recall who helped me get there or what the trip looked like, but soon I was there, and I hesitate to use the word “relief”, but I think I felt some version of relief right away. The warm water felt like it took just the teensiest bit of edge off. And it gave me the sense that I could fully let go. I’m not sure how long I was in the tub before she was born, maybe 20 minutes, but I know there was almost no break in between the contractions. Yet from that short period of incredible pain and intensity, I have a few clear memories. I could feel Jamae behind me and Maria and Shawn on either side of me and I remember opening my eyes a few times and seeing these glimpses of people and love in front of me. The first one was a little vignette through the opening of the kitchen door; I saw Liesel’s face and upper body and I could tell she was at the stove boiling water. I instantly recognized this scene as something I had wanted. Part of what attracted me to a home birth was this more “traditional” setup of being surrounded by wise and strong women who were very comfortable around birth and whose positive energy and confidence aided the process. In the weeks prior when I was “planning” out the birth, I had this vision of a bunch of knowing women all doing their part. And catching that little glimpse of Liesel at the stove just felt like, “yep, this is perfect”. It’s weird to think I could have such a satisfied thought at a time like that, but I distinctly remember being aware of that for the shortest of seconds. And then there was more. I opened my eyes another time to see Jenny holding one of my dogs (who otherwise probably would have gone crazy). Another time to see Courtney taking pictures. And eventually another time to see my mom, guiding my two daughters to the front row. It felt like something out of a tightly-edited movie trailer, where they were skipping through 90% of it and just highlighting the parts that made the story matter most.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Being able to verbalize my desire to have the girls woken-up is another thing that happened in that short time and for which I was so grateful. This was another instance where every time it felt like I was in the heart of a contraction, I would think, <i>k- when this one is over I’m gonna tell someone to wake up the girls</i>, but then the contraction would ease slightly and the words just didn’t come out. It felt like this happened over and over again. But eventually I spit it out, and I’m so glad I was able to figure that one out. Having Berkeley and Wren there was another high-on-the-list reason for wanting to do this at home. We tend to be far removed from <i>birth as an everyday part of life</i> in our culture. I think many people’s first experience with it is when it is actually <i>happening</i> to them (or their partner). And by that point it feels slightly too late to be able to think of it as something completely natural. While there are obviously huge advantages to much of the medicalization of birth, there has also been some significant losses. And I feel like one big one is that we don’t grow up witnessing birth in our families and communities, which in the long run makes things harder on everybody. And I became attached to the idea that I could create even the smallest bit of normalcy around the event for my daughters. I wanted them to witness the birth, on a more global level, as just another part of life, something that would help it not seem so foreign when it happens to them or someone they love someday. And I wanted them to witness it, on a more personal level, as the transition into this next phase of our life as a family. Having us all present felt meaningful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">My water broke at some point after I was in the tub. It’s a huge pressure release, and I remember <i>almost</i> thinking it could have been the baby, but I opened my eyes for a second, and saw only water mixing with water. I spent a brief moment being amazed by how much water was coming out and with what force! I was in a tub of water so technically I couldn’t <i>really</i> see how much was coming out but it felt like my fire hydrant of a vagina had just had the lid popped off by months of insane pressure build-up. It’s really a fascinating sensation. So with no baby in sight I realized I still had more to do. And it felt impossible. It’s weird how I could have such little sense of how long it was going to take. I think one of the things that makes the pain feel so unbearable is not having a sense of how much is left. Somewhere along the line I started saying “I can’t!” I later told Shawn half-jokingly that I was disappointed in myself for having “a bad attitude”. I felt like I wanted to be all “ROAR! I CAN DO THIS!” and “I can’t” was hardly that. But Maria later said something great- it was along the lines of, “I don’t hear those words as what they literally mean; those are just the noises of birth”.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So after my water broke Maria said the baby was going to be born soon. But I’m under the impression that people just say these sorts of things to encourage you to keep going, and “soon” could be like 30 more minutes. So I wasn’t hearing it as all that great of news. <i>But</i> when I could hear I was grunting, I knew it would in fact be the <i>real</i> kind of soon, so even though they feel almost other-worldly and a bit intimidating, I was happy to hear those fierce noises coming from inside me.</span><br />
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I know some women feel like pushing is the hardest part but for me it’s so much better than laboring. It’s the part where “your body just knows what to do” really earns its platitude status. In laboring I mostly just feel like I’m <i>enduring</i>. But with pushing, it feels like I’m actively getting the baby here. And more than anything, it was simply amazing to feel that much power running through my body.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I <i>really</i> pushed maybe three times. I pushed, and then I pushed her head out, and then her body, and that was it--all the months, all the preparations, all the pain, all the people there, all the prenatal vitamins, all the everything . . . and it was finished in a second. I was almost in shock that she was there. <span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">But there she was, at 11:37.</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span>I pulled her up on my stomach (or maybe somebody did that for me) and I started crying. But I don’t actually think any tears came out. It was a strange cry. I was making all the movements and sounds of crying but without any of the tears. I loved her immediately. I loved her dark hair and her perfect little tiny body. Once I could see her face, I could see she looked so very familiar. I thought it might be my own baby pictures that she reminded me of, but maybe it was the other girls’ faces I was seeing. Although I still wouldn’t admit it out loud for another day or two, I knew she was Clementine. With both Berkeley and Wren I definitely felt I needed to wait and meet them before naming them. I referred to each of them as “baby” or “it” the whole pregnancy. But with this one, I secretly called her Clementine pretty much the entire nine months.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So I sat there, feeling completely limp except for the minimal effort it took my arms to be strewn around her tiny body, and felt relief and love and joy and mercy, the definition of her name. I also felt a bit traumatized afterward; I think I had this vague sense that someone was gonna make me go through it again, like I just couldn’t quite believe it was over. I was sincerely frightened it might happen again. But I had that little body in my arms so it kept reminding me everything was ok now.</span><br />
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After 10 minutes or so Shawn took the babe and I went to the birthing stool to deliver the placenta. And then I went and got in my bed. Someone handed me the baby and Shawn and the girls crawled in next to me. Shawn highlighted this moment in his rendition of the story as well, but just as it was for him, this was a stellar moment for me too. I loved that we were all right there. The family bonding was so immediate and so physical and so in our space--the FIVE of us cuddled and oohed and awed at each other and it was heaven.
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Eventually the girls went back to bed, people kissed us goodbye and started going home, somebody brought me some food, Janae came over and took some pictures, I had crazy shakes, the midwives took all their measurements and notes, we dressed the baby in her pjs, and we all fell asleep. It felt so peaceful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next morning the girls climbed back in bed with us first thing and simply couldn’t get enough of their new sister. After lots of holding, they went off to school--it felt slightly strange that we were just continuing on with our life as usual. I half thought, <i>we stay home for Christmas, and this seems at least as big as Christmas</i>, but at the same time it felt appropriate as a welcome to life with three kids. There’s a little less time for everything and <i>half-ass</i> is the new standard M.O as we learn to adapt to squeezing everything and everybody in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the end of that day we officially named her Clementine Jay. I’ve loved the name Clementine since before we were pregnant with Berkeley, and before each of the other girls were born, I suspected they would likely be named Clementine, but in the end it just didn’t feel exactly right for either of them. (Wren was even “legally” named Clementine for like 3 minutes, until I started crying and called the office back to tell them that was a mistake. I loved the name, but Wren was just so clearly Wren, I couldn’t shake it). When I thought we were only having two children, as silly as it sounds, I was sincerely sad that we wouldn’t get to name anybody Clementine, so once this bonus baby was in the picture, her name was an almost sure thing. I did entertain a few more ideas on the list, mostly Maple (not Mable, but Maple, like the donut :)). I think that name is adorable. And I love Fern, but it’s too much like Wren, and I still very much like Poppy, but really, like I said, I’d secretly been calling her Clementine for 9 months already. And here’s the point I’m trying to get to: It feels a little fate-ish that the name didn’t work out for either of the other two because nothing felt more appropriate given the climate she was born into. Both Berkeley and Wren were born under President Barack Obama and I expected this one to be born under President Hillary Clinton. How wonderful would it have been to have those two faces of progress be the little thumbnail pics under “President of the U.S. when I was born” in their three baby books! . . . But instead . . . I cried so much when Trump won. I cried and cried and cried. I cried harder than I’ve cried over most things in my life. I took it so very personally. Over the following weeks and months I became even more sad. I was sad about all the obvious obscene and depressing and hurtful things that were transpiring, but more close to home than that, I was sad that I was pregnant. I obviously knew that once I was with her for one second I wouldn’t be able to imagine life without her, but the fact remained, I was not feeling good about bringing another soul into this world that was so clearly suffering from a major deficit of love and that was in need of so much attention. My resources suddenly felt grossly finite. Having Trump as president is gonna require so much more of everybody. I felt that now more than ever the world needs people who are going to spend their energy fighting, not people whose energy is being used up by caring for newborns. It was depressing to realize that I would not have chosen to get pregnant had I known Donald Trump was going to be president. I know my attitude should have been more “Now I have all the more reason to fight- <i>because</i> of her … and She’s gonna <i>be the change</i>! … and We’ll just have to raise her to be the <i>new</i> Hillary Clinton! … etc.” And that was of course there, under the surface. But <i>on</i> the surface, I was feeling much more of all the other stuff- lame for the time I knew I wouldn’t be committing to the resistance, overwhelmed at the task of having to explain so much hate to small people, irresponsible for taxing the planet with another human, a planet which would already now be suffering from far less protection. (In addition, and I realize it may sound dramatic, but I have these images of us being in a nuclear war and me needing to run away from danger and having too many kids to properly protect all of them. And this breaks me. I’ve read about these scenes in a hundred different autobiographies from people living in places with lesser forms of government, the type we are most certainly nudging our way toward) . . . I want nothing less than to turn my beautiful birth story into anger about Trump, but my point in starting this paragraph was that this feels like an appropriate time for more mercy, for more clemency, for Clementine. She might very well have been Clementine either way, but naming her Clementine under his presidency feels like our own little act of resistance. It feels like, No! We will NEVER buy into the idea that there is no place for leniency, that we have to protect ourselves by shutting others out, that punishment must be served, that second-chances are weak, that there is not enough to go around, that we have no obligation to the least of those among us. You are the flipside of merciful, and you will not last. Your ways will not prevail. You will be proven a hateful and ignorant sorry excuse for a man who is on the wrong side of history. We are raising an army of small people and teaching them to be the exact opposite of everything you are. We will teach them love and acceptance, respect and thoughtfulness, mercy and clemency. In name and in body, we are adding one more person to the movement against you! . . . It felt extremely good to name her Clementine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And Jay- Jay is after our dear friend Jason, Shawn’s best friend since 5th grade. Ironically enough, this is the only one of our childrens’ births he hasn’t been at, but he has more than earned a name in our family. He <i>is</i> our family. Berkeley and Wren would rather stay home than go to a friend’s house if he’s coming over. Despite having decided not to have kids himself, he doesn’t hold back at all when it comes to the attention and time he gives them. He’s smart and loyal and thoughtful and I couldn’t be happier that my child has his name.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-6096eac0-ea55-61ca-edbf-fefa5f0503b0"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I feel like I could go on and on with this birth story (Not sure why, as I don’t think the other two were this long) but that’s it, I’ll be done. She is 4 weeks old today and I am so in love with her. I simply can’t get enough; I hold her all the time and stare and smell and snuggle and stroke and probably smother, and stare some more. Maybe I’m more aware of how fleeting the time is or maybe I just know there is less </span><span style="font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">of</span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> it to begin with, but I’m soaking her in like mad. She’s also made me more aware of the need to soak in the other babies as well. I’ve already had some panic attacks fearing we’ve done this whole thing “wrong”. There is no way around the fact that by bringing another person into our home, we have less time/energy/money for everyone here. I see the parents of only children and have moments where I feel a bit stung with jealousy at all the time and attention they are able to give their child- all the solo explanations of life, the bedtime presence and listening ears they can offer while the child falls asleep rambling. I want to shut out every other part of the world and give each one of them my full self. But such is not possible. I just pray that in some other way we can do right by both her and her sisters. I pray we will make up for the lack of time and money and energy with the power of siblings and a loud home. It seems like an ambitious prayer, but it’s what this whole decision was based on.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The End.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="white-space: normal;">* Coco and Jenny took some iphone pics (above), and Janae came over a little later and took these ones of us recovering and settling in (below).</span></span></span></span><br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/033my_birth_041.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-78763490500172432582017-01-25T13:13:00.002-08:002017-11-15T22:13:30.210-08:00Albert and Andrea and MadeleineBack in 2011 Maria and I photographed <a href="http://www.veritephotography.com/blog/2011/12/albert_and_andrea_at_madrona_manor_in_healdsburg.html?rq=andrea">these guys' wedding</a>. And then just last month I got to photograph these guys' little person. Madeleine is the perfect combination of both Albert and Andrea. She's smiley and sassy, smart and loving, a performer and a cutie.<br />
I love when I get to check back in with the people whose wedding I photographed. It's such a big event to be a part of in someone else's life that when it's over it often feels unfair- like the movie just stopped part way through and I don't know <i>what happened next</i>! Which is why I get genuinely so excited to hear from my old couples; it's like someone just handed my my nachos back and started the reel again!<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/017family_photographer_oakland_022.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-40521812150193544162016-10-15T23:58:00.002-07:002017-11-15T22:14:05.354-08:00Cal- One Year!Warm afternoons on the Sausalito Bay are even warmer when you're visiting from Alaska! (or when you're hanging out with such lovely people, like I was). The last time this precious family was in town Cal was just 3 months old, but he turned one during this visit and he's now walking and jumping and drinking from a straw (when he's not napping). And the <i>next</i> time they are in town it will be because they are moving back here! So lots more warmth for everybody coming up soon.<br />
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It's a beautiful thing to witness kids being loved on so much, and these guys do more than their fair share to contribute to that beauty!<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/019family_photographer_sebastopol_shepherd_003.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-47272638903768811302016-10-15T21:46:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:06:52.788-08:00Morgan and George, at home with their parentsThere's not a lot better than waking up on a Sunday morning and having nowhere you need to go and being free to just snuggle in bed with your people (well, except for maybe <i>not</i> waking up on a Sunday morning while your little people hang out in their own bedroom . . . but you know, if that's not an option, this is definitely a close second! :)). And this is a thing these guys love to do on the weekends. Everyone piles on mom and dad's bed to slowly lazily wake up. These small rituals add up to the greater whole of our lives and they are hands-down one of my favorite things to capture.<br />
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*Side note* This is the 3rd or 4th time I have photographed this adorable family and I <i>still</i> manage to mess up. It's just that they have a <i>dog</i> (Paris) that looks like one of <i>my</i> dogs, and a <i>kid</i> (Morgan) with the same name as my <i>other</i> dog, so I invariably at least once during each session call their dog the kid's name. Eeeek. Luckily, they are very forgiving :)<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/001family_photographer_bay_area_nguyen_016.jpg" />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/020family_photographer_bay_area_nguyen_023.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-20241351691466980462016-09-21T13:01:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:14:54.634-08:00Harris-Boundy Family, at Sutro BathsAnd just like that, he's off to college.<br />
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These dear friends of mine moved to SF when Sol was much (<i>much</i>) shorter than his parents, but as always seems to happen, in the blink of an eye (aka 'a decade'), he got tall. And this summer he graduated from high school, went back-packing in Europe with his friends for a month, and headed off to college, like a legal adult.<br />
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I can only imagine how it must feel to say goodbye to your <i>baby</i>, the one that made you a parent and changed your life so significantly. Of all the big things you feel, and the profound things you want to say, and the huge gestures you want to make, I think scheduling a photo shoot makes perfect sense.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/017_family_photographer_san_francisco_HBfam_019.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-4583627788168518772016-03-27T00:04:00.001-07:002017-11-15T22:17:02.409-08:00Kali, Kelly, and kids- leaving San FranciscoThe last time I photographed these guys they were moving to a bigger house because baby Cora had just been born and they were feeling the need for a bit more space, and wanted to capture some images in the little house they'd lived in for so long before moving on. <i>This</i> photo shoot came only about a year and a half later and because they wanted to capture some images in <i>San Francisco</i> before moving on. I guess Cora proved to be a much bigger baby than expected :) because they are headed off to their next home. But they stopped here at Sutro Baths for some last photos first. There aren't many places that will have you living quite as close to the Pacific Ocean, so it's a good idea to take some deep salty air breaths with your babies before saying goodbye.<br />
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I will miss this family terribly. Each one of them is a gem.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/014_family_photographer_sutrobaths_KelKal002.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-82216386296724736152016-02-25T00:08:00.001-08:002017-11-15T22:17:39.047-08:00Amaia, with Monica and ClareClare contacted me about two months ago when she knew that Amaia's mortality was sadly about to be an issue. But she proceeded to tell me about their life with such positivity and joy I felt like I was being asked to come photograph a <i>celebration</i>! <br />
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And that is essentially what our afternoon together turned out to be; it was filled with a lot of relaxed falling-in-to-each-other sits, laughter, friends and neighbors stopping by, fingers running through fur, howling at the cat next door, <i>as well</i> as some tears (but every good celebration requires some tears).<br />
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As much as Clare loves Amaia, I think her <i>real</i> reasoning for doing the photo shoot was for Monica. It was Monica and Amaia who found each other first, and their connection runs deep. The family is clearly all <i>three</i> of them, but I found it so thoughtful that what Clare truly wanted was to honor the relationship her two big-hearted girls have with <i>each other</i>!<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/017_dog_photographer_san_francisco_026.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-2348289389634090972016-01-15T12:35:00.000-08:002017-11-15T22:17:57.861-08:00Baby CalThis little family is living in Alaska right now but they were recently down visiting some family, and since the last time I saw them was <i>their wedding day</i>, we were due for a visit! And for some photos.<br />
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I loved photographing Brittany and Greg's wedding two years ago, but truth be told, not as much as I loved photographing them two months ago holding the little human they just made.<br />
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Cal is three months old here, and oh how I wish these guys lived closer so I could take pictures of him <i>every</i> three months!<br />
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They luckily have some dear friends who live in Napa so this new family of three just made themselves right at home- lazing about the house, napping on their sofa, cuddling their dog, and taking advantage of the fact that they could take Cal outside in the backyard and not worry about his toes freezing off.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/016_baby_photographer_napa_Cal_013.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-57019708804151887712015-10-22T09:26:00.001-07:002017-11-15T22:18:16.719-08:00Joelle, Sam and baby DorianJoelle is a friend of some friends. Before this shoot I hadn't seen her in a long time (like, before there was a baby <i>or</i> a husband long)! It's not like I ever knew her <i>that</i> well, but it's still so fun to see how people's lives and identity changes as the people <i>in</i> their life change. The last time I saw her I'm sure we were mingling at some dinner party eating fancy cheeses and chocolates, and this time she was crawling around on the floor chasing a lil' babe, and I was chasing her.<br />
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At the same time, it's good to know some things stay the same. Joelle and Sam and both musicians; they told me how they actually came back to her apartment and played music together on their first date. And now, they still play music together, but with the accompaniment of some chubby little one-year-old hands attempting the bass line along side them. <br />
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It was so great to hang out with these three on a Saturday afternoon- we crawled up and down the hallway, had some dinner, broke into a few little jam sessions, went for a walk around their colorful block, came back, and got ready for bed. And I can testify that I overheard them telling Dorian they love him at <i>least</i> 100 times in the span of those few hours.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/022_family_portraits_san_francisco_photographer_baby_dorian_028.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-53311629533765658012015-09-08T15:25:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:07:45.888-08:00Grace FamilyBeing completely honest, half of my excitement for doing this shoot of the adorable Grace family was because it meant I would get to see inside their house! I have an obsession with seeing the insides of houses in general (Sometimes I make Shawn drive around a block twice because we passed a house with their curtains open and I want to get a better look at the hutch in their living room). But I have a <i>specific</i> obsession with seeing the inside of this house. We walk by the Grace family's house several times a day on our way to and from the co-op we both go to, and we've briefly been inside the front room a few times for a quick play, and every single time I swoon. Getting to see the <i>rest</i> of it was a fantasy fulfilled!<br />
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It's the cutest little beach bungalow ever! <br />
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And I'm trying to figure out a way for them to want to give it to me.<br />
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And the other half of my excitement for doing this shoot of the adorable Grace family was because- they are t<i>he adorable Grace family</i>! These guys are so lovely, and down-to-earth, and <i>adorable</i>. I had an editing crisis trying to do this blog post because I loved too many of them! They were just so lovely, and down-to-earth, and adorable in practically every picture I took of them. So, apologies for this rather lengthy post.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/044_family_portraits_san_francisco_photographer_Grace_061.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-64243059227386092192015-07-08T17:02:00.003-07:002017-11-15T22:19:12.296-08:00My in-laws, in love.Last time Shawn's parents were visiting they wanted me to take some "anniversary" pictures for them (it was still months away from their anniversary, but I guess when you've been married <i>that</i> long, it just always feels like a celebration . . . well, either that or they knew it would take me half a year to get them done so they figured it was perfect timing; that's probably the more likely scenario).<br />
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So here's a few snaps of them being extra cute when we were up in Calistoga this Spring. These two take good care of each other; they make each other laugh; and they still seem to genuinely enjoy being together every day, even after 43 years! I'm lucky to be in their family and have that example.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/007_anniversary_portraits_photographer_ChuBar_009.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-80501757195214949032015-03-23T15:38:00.001-07:002017-11-15T22:19:28.949-08:00Janae and baby LincolnMy friend, fellow photographer, neighbor, and babysitting-trade mom, Janae, had the fantastic idea of doing a little mini-session for our 2nd babes. Those little <i>seconds</i> get the shaft in so many ways, she thought it would be nice to do something special just for them! So she photographed me and Wren one morning, and I photographed her and little Lincoln one afternoon. It was a fine idea!<br />
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Linc woke up from his nap a little confused as to what I was doing in his room (love the way he kept eyeballing me!) and then, seeing as how these babies are starting to not be so baby-ish, we got a few "last-chance" breastfeeding shots in. Lincoln rode his Radio Flyer, took some hand-held steps, played blocks, and snuggled and laughed with his mom- quite please with his time for just the two of them! :)<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/012_san_francisco_family_photographer_Shields_014.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-81325212055672479472015-02-26T10:40:00.000-08:002017-11-15T22:08:45.293-08:00Cherniss girls, and a boy.
Hilary and I were pregnant with baby girls at the same time so I always felt this little connection with her, but really, we can hardly be considered in the same club- she was already a serious pro at this motherhood thing since it was her <i>fourth</i> baby, and I was still treading amateur territory! But still, I felt that connection simply because of the synchronized pregnancies and because I <i>wanted</i> to be like her- with a house <i>full</i> of littles.<br />
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That baby girl is 15 months now (here) and they wanted to do a photo shoot for her. Hilary thought this experience would cure me of my desire to add more, but <i>nope</i>, I loved it! All that energy, all that wrestling, all that laughter, all that hitting, all those moments around the kitchen island together, all that chaos, all those snuggles- I eat this stuff up! Photographing a house of six did nothing to lessen the fantasy. (This in no way means that we are having more children in any way, shape, or form- simply that I still <i>want</i> to!)<br />
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Anyway, I love this session. The day before we did it Hilary informed me that half the people in the house had facial wounds as a result of that bad little baby; I offered to reschedule but they said, <i>nah! </i>So here they are- bite marks, scratches, goose-egg forehead bumps, and all, hanging out at home on a Saturday afternoon.<br />
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Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-30338029808175966542014-11-23T23:12:00.000-08:002017-11-15T22:09:37.257-08:00Newborn CoraAnd the follow-up to <a href="http://yesterdayamomentlater.blogspot.com/2014/07/kali-kelly-veda-and-belly.html">this photoshoot</a>, is <i>Cora</i>! She was a full-blown, air-breathing human this time, <i>plus</i> all kinds of adorable!<br />
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With the growing numbers in this family, they are moving to a bigger house this week, which is why they really wanted to simply hang out at home for this photo session. This lil' beach house has been good to them; it's welcomed both their girls into the world and kept them safe and warm. It's exciting to move on to the next thing but I imagine it's also an emotional thing to leave your family's first home (even if the bedroom <i>is</i> only three inches bigger than the bed :)).<br />
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But, big house or little house, it's clear that wherever little Miss Cora lives, she will be well-loved!<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog3/016_sanfrancisco_newborn_photographer_Cora_rkp_021.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-63915152427363315312014-11-09T11:32:00.001-08:002017-11-15T22:19:57.471-08:00Terasa and her Min Pin, Mr. HandsomeHis real name is Hansel, but you can see why he goes by Mr. Handsome! (If I was that good-looking, I would insist on going by the same).<br />
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Years ago, I photographed Terasa with her old dog Shaq, and obviously bonded with her since my dog growing up was Magic (both Lakers fans). So now that Hansel is the new boss in town, she had to get some photos of him as well.<br />
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These two love to be together! On the couch watching a game, in the car running errands, or at the park going for a walk- whatever the activity is, they do it <i>together</i>. I loved photographing these guys because they just reminded me how much joy can come from such a bond.<br />
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Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-12963120245696325412014-08-06T22:09:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:20:16.070-08:00Baby EmmersonHe was a little less slimy for this photo shoot than he was for <a href="http://yesterdayamomentlater.blogspot.com/2014/02/emmersons-birth.html">his debut shoot six months ago</a>, but either way, from birth to babe, this little guy is fantastic!<br />
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Rebecca actually called me in a panic a few weeks ago because her baby started growing teeth at lightening speeds, and she was paranoid she had missed capturing <i>baby</i> Emmerson. He <i>was</i> threatening to do some long division when I got there, but luckily I think we still got some documentation of him as a wee one. And also of him flying.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog2/021_family_photographer_San_Francisco_wright033.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-35573176718754250712014-07-10T23:21:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:20:39.068-08:00Kali, Kelly, Veda and bellyThis family-- they live on the <i>same</i> street as us, Kali and I are <i>both</i> photographers, husbands <i>both</i> obsess over fast cars, and our daughters go to the <i>same</i> co-op preschool. But the similarities stop there and just turn into jealousy because, as you can see, Kali has WAY better hair than me, and they grow blueberries in their backyard that actually <i>grow</i>, and they go camping like every weekend (I have this dream about being a total "camping family" but in actuality, we've been like three times).<br />
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But jealousy aside, I very much like these guys! They are getting ready to have another little girl next month so we had to get some pictures of life as they currently know it- Legos, donuts, and trips in the camping van.<br />
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(By the way, there's nothing like photographing another photographer to make me even more hyper aware of the pathetic state of my website/blog than I already was. But alas here I go, sheepishly sharing on my like 2005 <i>blogger</i> site!)<br />
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Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-10550788348362625112014-07-01T00:23:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:28:43.004-08:00Stent FamilyEvery time I photograph this family I just like them more and more. They love <i>dogs</i> and <i>each other</i>. In my book, if you've got those two things down, you're a winner. And the Stent family does both those things incredibly well!<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog2/022._family_photographer_san_francisco_peninsula.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-52212419425483861572014-05-23T12:15:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:29:07.473-08:00Penny, Dimitri, Kosta, and Bun in the oven.Back in 2010 Maria and I photographed these guys' <i>fabulous</i> wedding (<a href="http://robynandmaria.com/2011/01/penny-and-dimitri-and-their-big-fat-greek-wedding.html">here, on our old blog</a>). Since Dimitri is my <i>fabulous</i> produce guy that I see pretty much on a daily basis, I've been able to to keep up with their now <i>fabulous</i> <i>family</i>, scheduled to grow by <b>one</b> any day here! I did this little shoot of them over in their neighborhood so they could remember what life was like with just the three of them, well <i>four</i> (Sorry Beretta), before little sister arrived.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog2/012_family_photographer_San_Francisco_kosta018.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-88099025067869181942014-02-24T21:11:00.000-08:002017-11-15T22:29:43.951-08:00Emmerson's BirthWith both of my pregnancies, I've been lucky enough to share the experience with a really close friend. I was pregnant with Berkeley the same time my good friend Betsy was pregnant with Charlie, and I was pregnant with Wren the same time my dear friend Rebecca was pregnant with Emerson. And there really is just something comforting about sharing those months with someone. Comparing notes and woes and tips and yoga videos and double desserts- it's good times. <br />
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And this time it was made even better because I got to photograph Emerson's birth! It was just a few weeks before Wren would be born, at the same hospital, literally in the room next door.<br />
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The short of it is this: Rebecca was amazing. 1) Her labor lasted <i>so so</i> long, and 2) I felt like some of her nurses didn't say the most encouraging things to her. But in spite of having been at the hospital for going on <i>two</i> days, and in spite of having maybe not the most helpful help, she just kept with it; she stayed so positive and hopeful and determined and <i>nice</i> (I really don't know how she managed to be so <i>nice</i> through all of this). It was clear she felt so defeated and exhausted several times, but in the end, after being forced to move her labor to the operating room, and with the threat of a c-section looming over her, she pushed that 9+ lb of baby boy out!<br />
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I feel so grateful and happy and blessed that I got to be there. I love all three of these guys so much!<br />
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I should note here that I actually feel kinda guilty about having gotten to photograph this because another close friend of Rebecca and Derek's, Aubrey, was photographing this for them, but after having done so for over 24 hours, she had to leave to photograph a prior commitment. So I feel like a jerk- Aubrey is the one that was there with them in the trenches, and then I came in at like the eleventh hour, and took the gold, so to speak. Anyway, a very sincere nod to Aubrey and all her hard work!Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-62245872678953637872014-02-04T15:04:00.001-08:002017-11-15T22:31:52.164-08:00About six weeks ago, I had another baby.<br />
This little one.<br />
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<i>I've been meaning to make a post about Wren's birth for weeks now, but every time I go to work on it I remember how I have very few pictures from the event and I get stuck. I am apparently not so great at using just words to communicate . . . I have nothing on my "real camera" until about an hour before we left the hospital. So here goes Wren's birth story, sans much visual input . . .</i><br />
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There being an obvious amount of things that were similar between my first and this birth (they were both babies, made by me and Shawn, they came out of my body {both 12 days late}, and I fell in love), there were many things that were so different.<br />
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For starters, I wasn't actually overly excited about Berkeley's birth (<a href="http://yesterdayamomentlater.blogspot.com/2010/08/one-week-ago-i-had-baby.html">see here</a>). Deciding to add a kid to our lives was not something we did because we were <i>dying</i> to have a baby. So until she was actually <i>here</i>, in the flesh, on my chest, I just wasn't <i>oozing</i> with love for her . . . but <i>this time,</i> I felt love for the little being inside me from the very beginning. Having now had the experience of Life with Berkeley, of my heart regularly swelling bigger and bigger, I knew that such a thing was possible with this little zygote as well, and I felt connected to Wren from the moment I knew she was in there . . . I would lie awake in bed at night with my hands on my belly and just think about her. Berkeley at that point felt much more like an alien, an alien I was sure I would one day love, but a foreign intruder none-the-less. With Wren in utero, it felt like a family member, and I was anxious to get her here.<br />
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But as anxious as I was, I was still very relaxed about the fact that she was late. I've read enough hippie childbirth books to know that they will come when they are ready, and interfering is almost always a bad idea. I wanted (very much) to have a natural childbirth. I'm fully aware that I'm not proving anything to anybody by so doing, but it was something that was important to me. It was important to me for several reasons- from an actual <i>medical</i> standpoint, as a life experience that I just wanted to <i>experience</i>, and because it was something I saw as potentially empowering. In all the reading I'd done I had come to believe that women really need encouragement and support more than they need drugs. And I was excited to take that approach. (I wanted the same with Berkeley but after 12 hours or so of labor, they convinced me I needed some assistance- pitocin- and after that I just couldn't take the pain any more. So I was trying to avoid the pitocin/induction at all costs this time and have labor start naturally)<br />
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I had some dear women lined up to be there with me to be the said <i>encouragement</i> and <i>support</i> during Wren's birth- Liesel, who was there with Berkeley's, and Jenny. Both of them were leaving town for Christmas though, so when it got to be 10 days past my due date and they were both leaving in the next 3 days, I started to freak out that I would have to be induced on Monday, but would then have none of the support I was depending on there with me. So, as much as I didn't want to, I went to my (<i>wonderful</i>) midwife Florence late Friday afternoon (the 20th) to have my membranes swept. She did that, but the best thing she did was just listen to me think and struggle and debate things out loud. She was such a comforting presence. <br />
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Then literally as I was walking out the door, she stopped me to say they just found some protein in my urine sample and that was an indicator of preeclampsia so they wanted me to do a 24 hours urine collection. So, Saturday evening I went to the hospital to drop that off; I thought it would just be a quick drop-off, take my blood pressure and be on our way, but it turned into a few hours of monitoring and them telling me they'd like me to stay, right then and there, and have the baby. I kinda thought they were crazy for suggesting this. Berkeley was there with us and I just wasn't at all in the right mindset. We finally agreed I would go home and they would call in the middle of the night if the test results were positive, and I would come back. <br />
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So we went home, and indeed they called a little after midnight to tell me the results indicated I should come back sooner than later. They said I could sleep for a few more hours though and come in around 4:00am. But it's a little hard to go back to sleep when you know you'll be having a baby in a few hours. So I got up and took a shower. Then I laid back down to try to sleep, but that's when all my emotions and fears and insecurities decided to release themselves. I had a good cry while I told Shawn about how I didn't think I was ready for a second child, how I hadn't even figured out how to be the kind of parent I want to be with the first one yet, and what the hell was I thinking adding another one, and how I just wanted to go crawl in bed with Berkeley and make her know how much I love her, and ignore all of this . . . and then I felt much better. I fell asleep for about two hours and then we got up and drove to the hospital.<br />
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We met Jenny there, and headed upstairs to go have a baby! It felt so strange to just calmly check-in, when the last time I was there waiting at that desk in that hallway, I had already been in labor for hours and was not calm. But this time, considering the fact that this was not at all going how I wanted (having to be induced, which in my mind meant pretty much giving up on a natural childbirth) I <i>did</i> feel oddly calm. I got changed into my "birthing clothes", joked with the nurses, (was even incredibly patient with the newbie one that misplaced my <b>huge</b> IV <i>twice</i>!), had a cheese stick, and climbed into bed. <br />
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I decided to try to sleep for a bit while they got everything set up. I stirred as the sun was breaking through the fog. It made the whole room glow. The nurse was getting everything ready for the actual delivery because they believed labor would go really fast (I had been at a 4/5 for more than a week). And then she started talking to me about my birth plan, saying she thought most of it was completely doable. That really made me take heart, because at that point I had sorta assumed I needed to let go of it, but she seemed confident, and I think that really helped. She started the pitocin around 8:30am.<br />
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Contractions started a little bit later, slowly. Then within an hour they got to where I was really having to focus on my breathing, and shortly after that I needed the tub. I thought I would want to walk around because that's what I did with Berkeley, but the contractions were so close together and so strong that I didn't want to get out of the bath at all. I sat in there, eyes closed, with Shawn on the other side of the ceramic, for about an hour. Remembering the way Shawn talked so perfectly to me during that time will I think forever be one of my dearest memories. He kept reminding me that this was <i>useful</i> pain, and that this is what childbirth and being <i>alive</i> felt like. He reminded me to be as loud as I wanted and to let everything out. All of that was so helpful. As things I forgot from one second to the next, I needed him there to just keep reminding me. I also spent a lot of energy thinking about Jenny- about how she birthed 10lb babies with no pain meds, and about every other woman who had gone through this completely natural process since there have been women. (I also thought a lot about the Prom Mom! Bizarre, I know, and a totally inappropriate and awful form of inspiration, but so it goes- she just kept popping into my mind, "if she could do it, dammit . . ".<br />
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They finally told me I had to get out because my blood pressure was getting to a dangerous level and they wanted me to have some magnesium. Things were getting really unbearable though. I was to the point where I was thinking, "Never mind. It's not worth it, I need <i>something</i>". There was starting to be almost zero respite between contractions- one would end and the next would start. The walk back to the bed was so hard.<br />
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Once in the bed Shawn asked them to check me (which is what I had been trying to request but never managed to get out). The doctor said I was at an 8, and that it would probably be "only" 20 more minutes until I was to a 10, and I just screamed. There was <b>no way</b> I could go through that for 20 more mins (the contractions literally were just <i>one</i> giant contraction by then). This next part is a bit of a blur, but essentially I went from that moment where they said I was at an 8, to her being <i>born</i> 5 minutes later! I think the doctor was getting ready to leave because I heard the nurses yelling, "She's grunting! She's Grunting!". "Don't leave". I didn't actually know what was happening; I <i>assumed</i> the baby was coming because of the convulsions of my body and the words of the nurses, but I honestly wasn't sure. Nobody had actually said, "the baby is coming", so I kept asking (yelling) "what's happening?!?" as my body and mind were in a place so outside of anything I could comprehend. <br />
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Then she just landed on me. It's actually kinda hilarious to me that she practically <i>surprised</i> me. But I had been absolutely writhing in pain, aware really only of <i>pain,</i> and not that something was actually coming out of my body. My eyes had been closed for pretty much the entire last two hours. Not sure why that is- I guess it's just easier to be in pain with them closed. But it makes the whole memory feel like very short clips in a movie- a shot of my IV above the water in the bathtub, one of my toes on the floor, one of the railing on the side of the bed, and then, Wren. And at that point, the lens stays open. I was so utterly relieved in every sense. I could finally see, and breathe, and make sense of the voices around me, and I just stared. I held her and marveled at her dark hair and eyes and just kept thinking, "you're here".<br />
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My body shook and shook afterward (I guess that's a common thing for unmedicated births). But I just held and held her. I was able to hold her there for a really long time. They were trying to get some blood clots out and at first I could handle the pain because I was so elated at the little body sitting on top of me. Every time it would start to hurt, I would just look at her and think, "it doesn't even matter; look what I have." But then it started to unbearable and I was screaming all over again. They decided they needed to take me to the operating room and knock me out. I guess there was a lot of blood loss and hemorrhaging and they needed to take care of things soonish.<br />
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So Shawn took the babe to the nursery to get weighed and cleaned and all that, as I was getting prepped for the OR. I didn't mention it earlier but Jason got there while I was in the tub. Jason is not somebody I was feeling that I <i>needed</i> to be there for the birth. I mean, I was happy to have him there; I think it meant a lot to Shawn that he be there, but it's not like I was <i>depending</i> on him for anything, so it surprised me how happy and grateful and relieved I ended up feeling that he was there. He was the only one who actually got to see Wren be born since everything happened so fast and Jenny and Shawn were (I think) both up by me, focused on me, and it just feels better knowing that somebody we love was able to witness her first second entering the world.<br />
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I thought Jason would be able to go with me to the OR, but as they were wheeling me off they made it clear he couldn't go. I tried to be firm and say I really wanted him there but I guess it's just not a thing they allow if it's not for the actual birth. And that's pretty much the last thing I remember. I am apparently really sensitive to whatever they gave me, and I was OUT. I woke up several hours later back in the birthing room but continued to be really out of it for quite some time. I occasionally heard Jason and Shawn talking quietly and then I would go back to sleep. They came over to help me drink a few times and then I would go back to sleep. I would see a blurry shot of them holding Wren and want to hold her too, but then I would go back to sleep. (The staff later asked me what I remembered and I said Christmas lights :)<br />
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I was still feeling pretty out of it, but it was getting late and I really wanted to see Berkeley. I was so nervous and excited for this meeting. The second I saw her and my mom I started tearing up. I was in this same hospital with <i>her</i> the tiny little being wrapped in hospital blankets just a few short years ago, and here she was, the big sister. And oh man, watching that <i>big</i> little girl hold the new baby, it was almost too much.<br />
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Our hospital stay was so different this time-- no Shawn and I being roomies for two days while we order three times the amount of room service one person should need, and take turns holding our new creation. This time, I almost couldn't send him home with Berkeley fast enough. As much as I wanted him there, I wanted to be with Berkeley, and having him leave with her was the next best thing. And so began a life of each of us receiving a little less attention from one another.<br />
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After everyone left and it was just me and the baby, I was laying there with her in the dark thinking about how meeting her felt different than meeting Berkeley. I didn't love either of them more or less, but with Berkeley I was completely swept off my feet and overcome with an instant rush of intense love that I had never before felt and wasn't expecting. With Wren, I <i>already</i> loved her, and knew what was coming so it wasn't such an <i>overwhelming</i> experience. It was more like a <i>fulfilled</i> feeling. And that also felt amazing. Wren also came with a <i>physical</i> <i>relief</i> that was so much greater, making me grateful for her in a whole different way. And there was also their physical appearance. Berkeley was so <i>perfect</i>. She was so small and had the tiniest little defined features, and soft skin. She really was a beautiful newborn. Wren, not so much :) She was super wrinkly, with dry skin, a puffy face, and just looked much more like a typical gremliny newborn, but it was something about how "typical" she looked that made her feel so special. I just had this feeling like, wow- it is probably obvious to <i>nobody</i> else how beautiful and unique and special I know that she is, and it made me feel this need to work really hard to make sure I let everyone know, especially her.<br />
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Then there were two days of staying in the hospital- visits from friends, not much sleep, a blood transfusion, a <i><b>lot</b></i> of deliberation over her name, ice packs in my underwear, magic bars from Heather, hours of staring at that little face, and way too many random people and beeping machines.<br />
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Then as we were waiting for my blood transfusion to end, packing up our things getting ready to go in less than an hour, we still had an <i>unnamed</i> baby there with us. (I really wish they didn't make it such a pain for you to name your child after leaving the hospital). Naming Wren was much more of an issue than I thought it would be. Immediately after they put her on me, I remember thinking, "It's Wren. You're here. Hello Wren". But then the next 2.5 days go by and we try out all the names we were considering- Clementine, Poppy, Winter, and Wren. And I love THEM ALL! As our discharge got closer, I was seriously a bit of a wreck over the decision for some reason. We FINALLY decided on Clementine J., and I called the birth certificate office and told them, but I started crying and had to hand the phone to Shawn to finish giving the info. We hung up and I just stared at her. Shawn tried to comfort me, saying it was a beautiful name and her life would be filled with clemency and mercy, but I just couldn't shake the fact that I had that first impression of her name seconds after she was born. So, a bit hysterical, I called the office back 5 minutes later to tell them we were changing the name. But again as she asked me to spell out <b>Frankie Wren</b>, I could barely get it out. I hung up and was crying all over again. Now I was crying, "great, now she'll have no mercy and clemency in her life, only birds"! Shawn tried to tell me there are no "soulmate names", but I just wasn't feeling at peace with any decision we made. I was kinda laughing at myself even in the moment, but really, even now, I get very antsy about the matter. I was so torn over the decision. I guess I just love all the names. I loved Clementine (the most, probably). I just think it has such a beautiful meaning. And I loved it's subtle homage to Christmas. It being December 22nd and Clementines being a sort of winter/Christmas fruit. I loved Poppy and how it would mean both our girls would have California names, and the happy sound it has. I loved Winter, it being the first day of Winter, a season that to me is filled with more warmth than most of the others. But in the end, we have Wren, a bird :) Albeit, a bird with a loud and complex song.<br />
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I have actually loved the name forever. I read a book when I was young (maybe 10ish) called "Wren", a true story by Maria Killilea about her daughter with Cerebral Palsy. I actually don't even remember much of what it's about (I'll need to read it again), but I remember loving the little girl Wren and how filled with love her heart was. And Frankie is of course after Shawn's brother Frank. He has been such a wonderful uncle to Berkeley and it makes me crazy sad that we no longer get to live close to them. Hopefully the name will make the distance feel just a little less somehow. <br />
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So that's it- We packed her up, the second child of these two second children, and drove home around 5:00 on Christmas Eve.<br />
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Excerpt from the book "Wren"<br />
<i>A wren is a bird. He is tiny but courageous--so was Karen. He is a very
friendly little creature. He is always happy and he trills beautifully.
When he isn't trilling, he chatters, chatters, chatters. He likes an
audience. He has bright eyes and when you talk to him, he listens with
his whole self. Even his pert little tail seems to be paying attention.
But most of all he loves--he loves other birds (doesn't scrap like
bluejays or sparrows). He loves the sun, he loves the rain, he loves
flowers, he loves tiny bits of string, little sticks and, best of all,
he loves his nest--his home--his family. So Wren was the perfect
nickname for Karen. </i>Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-85396104184510953642013-11-24T21:02:00.000-08:002017-11-15T22:32:13.033-08:00The Shield Family- Now numbering Four!I met Janae many years ago at a photography workshop, and as we were chatting we realized that we literally live around the corner from each other! After that, we got into the occasional habit of taking walks along the Great Highway together, where our conversations have evolved from being mostly centered around our photography businesses to being mostly centered around our babies :)<br />
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Janae and Parry just had their second babe, lil' Lincoln, and since I was due just a month or so later, we decided to do a little session for each other; here's the half I did for her and her wonderful family- hey boys Parry, Cooper, and baby Linc.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog2/018_kid_photographer_San_Francisco_Shields027.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-14878993909034697282013-11-15T10:43:00.000-08:002017-11-15T22:34:02.625-08:00Morgan- One Year!I photographed Morgan when she was <a href="http://yesterdayamomentlater.blogspot.com/2012/11/lil-newborn-morgan-and-her-pug-paris.html">a brand new newbown</a> <i>last</i> October, and then just last month got to take some One Year photos of her, and of course her big sister Paris the Pug, again as well!<br />
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Back before Morgan was born, these guys relocated to the South Bay to be closer to family when starting <i>their</i> family, but before that move, they lived over in SOMA. So for our photo shoot, they took Morgan on a field-trip to some of their old spots- a little park (where another visitor <i>still</i> remembered Paris!!) and <a href="https://sightglasscoffee.com/">Sightglass Coffee</a>, their favorite coffee shop.<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog2/016_kid_photographer_San_Francisco_Morgan020.jpg" />Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087305665970864857.post-64275630633971662022013-10-31T10:42:00.000-07:002017-11-15T22:34:31.099-08:00Tavie's Senior PortraitsOctavia is our (Shawn's) like 67th cousin or something . . . ok, it's probably closer to 3rd, but he has so many people in his family and I get so confused as to who fits where-- All I know about Tavie is that she's family, and I think she's fabulous! Shawn's parents came out to visit in August and Tavie came with them. She was about to start her Senior year the day after they got back to Idaho, so we decided to do some Senior Portraits of her on the beach right before they left. I've never actually done Senior Portraits (they just aren't big out here) so I have no idea if I did 'em right :), but I do know that Octavia is an absolutely beautiful girl who has overcome a lot in her life and managed to let that gorgeous smile prevail, and so I was happy I got to take her pictures!<br />
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<img src="http://s3.us-east-2.amazonaws.com/rkp-photos/blog2/009_senior_photographer_San_Francisco_Tavie011.jpg" /> Robyn Kesslerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02728065641176797163noreply@blogger.com1