Because some stories are not told.

they are felt in silence, in stillness,

in the soft language of a photograph.

where childhood slips through hurried hands and memories are often reduced to curated snapshots, something deeper calls out.

A quiet ache in the heart of a parent. A whisper: Will they remember this? Will they know how deeply they were loved?

That’s where we begin.

In a world that moves too fast…

What I offer is not a session. It’s a pause.

Each experience holds space for something real, a glance, a laugh, a tiny truth that deserves to be remembered.

  • Because every beginning deserves to be remembered.

    There’s a quiet kind of beauty that lives in this waiting —
    when the world shifts to make space for someone who isn’t here yet,
    but already loved.

    These sessions are about more than the belly.
    They’re about presence. Connection. That invisible thread between a mother and the life she carries.

    We take it slow. We breathe.
    You don’t have to perform — you just have to be.

  • In their first weeks of life, everything is fragile, breath, light, and time.

    These sessions are soft, slow, and full of pauses. We follow their rhythm, not ours. It’s not about perfect poses, but about capturing the bond, the quiet, the tenderness that fills a room when a new soul arrives.

  • This is the age of discovery.


    Every day brings a new sound, a new trick, a new giggle. These sessions are full of movement and wonder. Whether they’re crawling, sitting, or dancing in your lap, this is about celebrating their curiosity, their wild joy, and those little faces you want to freeze in time.

  • They’ve found their voice, their stance, their quirks.


    These sessions are quick, playful, and all about connection. We let their personality shine — whether they’re bold or shy, dreamy or fierce. The goal: to give them images that reflect who they are becoming, not just how they look.

  • These are the in-between years — no longer a child, not quite grown.
    A time of shifting identity, inner worlds, quiet rebellion, and unexpected beauty.

    This session isn’t about how they “should” look.
    It’s about how they feel.
    It’s about being seen without being asked to perform.

    Some teens want to laugh. Others want space.
    I follow their pace — with respect, curiosity, and care.
    Because this stage is fleeting too, and it deserves to be remembered.

  • Because even small moments hold big meaning.

    Some memories can’t be repeated.
    A baby’s name whispered for the first time.
    The soft hush of a blessing.
    The laughter of little cousins running barefoot at a birthday.

    These aren’t just events they’re chapters in the story.
    And I’m here to help you hold onto them.

    Whether it’s a baby shower, baptism, birthday party, or a quiet backyard gathering, I approach each celebration with the same intention: to see what’s real, not staged. The in between moments. The glances. The tenderness.

These aren’t just images. They are proof of presence, of belonging, of love.

I’m a mother. I’m a photographer. I’m a quiet witness to the moments you think are too ordinary to matter until they’re gone.

I'M GABY

Since then, I’ve been chasing what most people miss.

The almost smile. The messy room with the afternoon light hitting just right.

I work with whatever light the day gives me: natural, harsh, soft. It’s not about the perfect setting. It’s about what’s real.

Real words from moms who dared to preserve the intangible.

“I never imagined a photograph could make me feel this much.”

“Thank you for seeing my child the way I do — with your heart.”

“Now I have something to tell them when I can’t find the words.”

“These photos don’t just show what they look like… they show who they are.”

“I never imagined a photograph could make me feel this much.” • “Thank you for seeing my child the way I do — with your heart.” • “Now I have something to tell them when I can’t find the words.” • “These photos don’t just show what they look like… they show who they are.”

 One Day,

They’ll Look Back

They’ll open this archive and feel what words could never say.