As I sit down to put this journey into words, I find myself moving between a profound mix of emotions: overwhelming gratitude, quiet joy, and the lingering ache of a birth story that unfolded far differently than I had planned. While it is human nature to ask "Why, Lord?" when facing unexpected trials, my heart kept returning to the story of Job, and to the quiet realization that God’s presence is often felt most acutely in the middle of the storm. This post is my personal way of processing, through written reflection and the art of photography, the grace that held our family when everything else felt uncertain.



Divine Design & Our Star of the Sea


For nine months, carrying our baby girl was a joy. Aside from typical pregnancy fatigue, my body felt strong. In fact, right in my third trimester, the Lord gifted me with the unexpected energy and clarity to officially launch Sacred Design Studios, a dream He had placed on my heart earlier this year. At 38 weeks, camera in hand, I was crouching on location to capture portraits for sweet clients, marveling at how gentle this pregnancy had been.


When our older daughter, Francesca, suggested the name Stella Maria for her baby sister, in honor of Our Lady under her ancient title, Stella Maris (Star of the Sea) it felt like the final piece of a divine design falling into place. She truly became our light on the water before we even knew the storm we were about to navigate. I had purposely prepared for Stella’s arrival. I carefully packed a bag filled with sacred details: our family crucifix, chosen holy cards of our beloved saints, our family prayer & picture, our wedding ring holder, custom images I designed for our wedding day, my Holy Bible and a beautiful image of Divine Mercy; all this, hoping to create a peaceful sanctuary in our hospital room. I had mentally prepared to offer up the quiet pains of labor for specific prayer intentions, eagerly anticipating a peaceful delivery.


Instead, at what was supposed to be a routine final prenatal checkup, unexpected circumstances arose that completely shifted our path. Within moments, our peaceful vision dissolved into an emergency C-section, an urgent medical transport to Massachusetts General Hospital amidst a roaring northeastern storm, and a twelve-day stay in the NICU.


Flat lay of Catholic keepsakes on wood with photos, rosary, crucifix, embroidered hoop, prayer card, bible and a framed family picture.

Calling on Heaven in the Operating Room


Nothing prepares a mother for the heartbeat-fast reality of being prepped for an emergency surgery. I have feared needles my entire life, and the thought of a spinal injection terrified me to my core. But as the medical staff got ready, God gave me a moment of profound composure: I stopped the medical team and prayed over them right there before they began.


Yet, as the anesthesia took hold, my legs went completely numb, my breathing felt shallow, and violent shivering set in I realized panic began to surge. I knew that if I let the panic attack take over, I could put both Stella and myself in danger. In that moment of sheer surrender, I held onto my rosary, at hand, pressing the metal crucifix into my palm as hard as I could; focusing every ounce of my mind on Jesus and begging Him for strength. And then, I called on my friends. If you know me, you know how central the saints are to my life and marriage, Marcus and I were blessed to hold our wedding on All Saints' Day. In that operating room, when I couldn't breathe, I didn't feel alone. I began calling out the names of the saints I love and treat as my closest companions, asking them one by one to intercede for us. Heaven filled that operating room.


Carried by Love in the Midst of the Storm


My heart fills with deep gratitude in knowing that we were never abandoned. In the midst of the uncertainty our immediate family and closest friends were present for us every single step of the way. Both our mothers, my sister and our doula dropped everything and traveled with us to Mass General Hospital for the delivery in the middle of the incoming storm, unable to return on island as all ferries were cancelled for the weekend. They took care of us, standing steadfast by our side so Marcus and I could focus entirely on holding and fighting for our daughter.


I spent those initial days in a fog of raw grief and physical breakdown, trying to reconcile with the reality of what had taken place before me. It was hard watching my newborn undergoing constant testing while feeling the deep unexpected pains of my own recovery. But even in those moments of emotional pain, God was so good to me. He gave me quiet moments of peace to watch the sun rise and set every day from our window, we had breathtaking views of the city skyline, the river, and the vast open sky. Each morning's light reminded me that His mercies are new every day, and each sunset reminded me of His loving embrace.



Finding Grace in Every Frame


Those sacred items I had packed so purposely? They remained tucked away in my bag. The hospital rooms were sterile and cold, and I simply had no mental strength left to set them out. Yet looking at that flatlay of packed items now, I realize those holy details didn't need to hang on a hospital wall. The intercessions, the rosaries, and the saints we love were not sitting quietly in a canvas bag, they were actively holding us through every second of that surgery.


Years ago, during my return to the Faith, the Divine Mercy message played a pivotal role in my reconversion. It taught me to trust implicitly when human plans fail. In the middle of that storm, "Jesus, I Trust in You" became the anchor my heart clung to. His grace was present in Marcus’s steadfast strength by my side. It was present in the skilled hands of the care team who brought our daughter safely into the world. And it was present the moment I finally held Stella close, weeping tears of pure relief.


As a photographer, I have spent over a decade documenting life’s milestones for others. But experiencing this trial reinforced the true purpose of photography in a way I never expected: Photographs are not merely pretty images; they are tangible memories to cherish. Looking back at these photos now, I am reminded that our memories are sacred not because they were perfect, but because God was in them.


Stella Maria is now home, thriving, and filling our house with immense joy. To every family who has walked a dark valley, spent endless nights in a hospital room, or watched a cherished plan unravel: His grace is sufficient, His timing is holy, and even the hardest chapters can yield the most beautiful inheritances.


THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING

I want to take this opportunity to extend our deepest gratitude to the staff at Mass General Hospital who cared for us during our stay. From the environmental services team, to the bedside nurses, to the dedicated providers, thank you.  


Having worked in the healthcare field myself, I know firsthand how demanding this vocation can be. It takes true courage, selflessness, and grace to treat a patient with profound compassion. As St. Giuseppe Moscati, the patron saint of physicians, famously reminded us: “Not science, but love has transformed the world.”  We are forever grateful to those caregivers who truly poured love and dignity into our daughter’s care during our most vulnerable days.   


Whether you are preparing to welcome a new child or celebrating a meaningful family milestone on Martha's Vineyard, preserving these sacred seasons in natural, timeless imagery is an investment that only grows richer with time. If you are planning a getaway or local session on the island, reach out, I would love to help turn your family's story into fine-art heirlooms for your home.



At your service,

 

FEATURED STORIES

 

Gold Marian monogram symbol with fleur-de-lis on white background.

Recollection is the quiet gathering of the soul, where we look back  to see how gently God has led us by the hand.

 

-Saint Teresa of Avila