Nursery Tour

There’s a glow in the middle of the night from the AngelCare monitor and the whirling sounds of the sleep machine to drown out the hums of the rest of the house. As the moon drifts in the skies, I rock back and forth slowly in my grandfathers old leather chair. Despite the fact that my eyelids have never felt heavier and keeping my head up becomes increasingly more difficult, those moments in the middle of the night, holding a squirming baby in my arm rocking back and forth humming our lullaby feels like a daydream…like a reality I was never quite sure I would see.




You’re a falling star…you’re a mystery…you’re every minute of my every day… In this crazy life, and through these crazy times, it’s you. It’s you. You make me sing. You’re every line, you’re every word, you’re everything. You’re every song, and I sing along, ’cause you’re my everything. Everything, Michael Buble




Photographer: Olimb Photography >>> Event Planner: It’s A Shore Thing Weddings & Events >>> Floral Designer: Florals By The Sea >>> Makeup Artist: Blush Beauty Lounge >>> Catering: Townsend Catering >>> Cake Designer: Bake My Day




I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea. Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes; I would empty my soul as the dreams that have gathered in me, I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads. Sara Teasdale

In middle school I had a brief love affair with poems. I thought I would grow up to become one of those moody poets writing cascading words about love and nature. Trying my pen at it for awhile, my hope of being a poet quickly evolved to the hope of being a songwriter…funny thing was, I wasn’t very good. Turns out, my passion was in watching people and writing whatever imaginary story I could think up about their lives. As time has passed, I still find that I have some love for poetry. Not for writing it, mind you, but there are certain times when the mood just calls for reading through some poetry. If I’m being completely honest, it’s more like skimming until I find something that pricks my soul, but saying “I read through poetry” sounds better than “I just casually glance through poetry”.

Now that I’ve grown up, my aspirations of writing poems and songs has faded. In its stead is a love of watching people through my lens and capturing their love, their story. And while I will always find that my soul soars in writing, I will gladly spend my days capturing two people in love with still frames and just casually glance through poetry.




I think I was worried. The idea of being known as “the photographer that’s adopting” or “the photographer with infertility problems” wasn’t exactly on my list of business goals. But I think more than that, I wasn’t willing to be that vulnerable within my business. Business was business, and yes I essentially am my business, but the need to keep certain parts of my life private still very much is a constant battle against the scales of appropriateness. Now that some time has passed, those scales seemed to have tipped.

One of my biggest struggles over the past year or so within my business has been my writing and my priorities. Priorities in running your own business shift when you’re faced with loss and grief and a sudden shift to the way you thought your life would play out. Things like keeping SEO and website updates and social media pushes suddenly are stacking up against faith and family and heavy prayer covered decisions and I’ll be the first to admit, I threw a lot of  my business to the wind. I love my business, I love what I do, but it wasn’t a priority.  Writing became excruciatingly difficult…it was like forcing myself to write about pretty little beautiful things and not mentioning anything regarding the major elephant in the room trouncing around making a seemingly massive mess of my life. While I may not agree with whoever coined the whole “time heals all wounds” statement, I will say that time gives perspective…

November is National Adoption Month. I’ve wondered when and how Andrew and I would share our story, curious about which details we would decide to share and which to keep to ourselves, how would we begin?

There’s a day in February of 2006 that I can vividly remember. We were in college, dating – it was a sunny day with a warm breeze and I felt happy and content. We were listening to a sermon by Voddie Baucham about family…I don’t know why we were listening to that sermon, but there was a line he said that started it all. It was something to the effect of “When I die, I don’t want Satan to be relieved, I want him to see a horde of children coming over my dead body and be terrified.” I distinctly remember in that moment, I wanted to have a lot of kids. And in that moment, we opened ourselves up to talking about family. We talked about our hopes, our dreams…how many kids we wanted, about our desire to adopt, what sort of things we wanted to do with our kids, the type of parents we wanted to be. We were blissfully unaware of the road God would lead us down in our journey to a family. We were blissfully unaware of the weight of that one word…adoption.

For the past year or so, Andrew and I have been walking in faith, trust and hope. Faith that while we may never be able to conceive children, God gave us a desire to be parents. Trust that He gave us the desire for adoption early in our dating life for this very season. Hope that we desire a family and He WILL provide.

Our adoption journey has been tiring at times. Paperwork is mundane and boring and stressful and full of “this isn’t fair” moments. Tearing your house apart to paint and fix “unsafe” floors and move rooms around to make way for a nursery isn’t pretty and quickly moves from being fun and exciting to tiring and seemingly endless. There’s paint supplies everywhere and tearing up flooring is just disgusting. Painting over paint that’s been there since our third year of marriage is strange…almost as if you’re painting over part of your life…its gone and doesn’t quite look the same.


But through it all, this man has held my heart steady. He provides me the safety and comfort I need to release ugly emotions, to not say the correct thing, to not have the perfectly pretty Biblical response. But he is also strong enough to then guide me from my emotional constipation into the truth found in Jesus Christ, into the hope that we hold so dear. I wouldn’t want to be on this journey with anyone other than him.

Photo credit to the amazing Lauren Kinsey Photography

Follow our adoption journey >>> gofundme.com/theolimbsadopt




Nodding Yes

Eight years ago today…

The details that led up to you kneeling down on that gazebo floor are so vivid I can almost feel the warm breeze that shifted its way through the trees, providing a brief relief from the heat of that October day. I remember the drive in that old truck, the windows down and the Colbie Caillat mix CD you had made me. I remember the way you looked at me, without a care in the world. I remember the twinkle in your green eyes as you asked me to be yours. I remember it all.

Eight years ago today you slid the most perfect ring onto my finger. Eight years ago today, I nodded yes because eight years ago today, you took my breath away.