From Waiting
to Holding

I first met Chaithanya, Sowjanya, and their son Kiwi in December 2025 — travelled up to Scotland for their maternity session in East Calder. Kiwi was already a character. Climbing on his dad's shoulders, holding up the scan photo like he'd been practising. He hadn't been told how to act. He just was.

Sowjanya was glowing in that quiet way — not performing it, just being it. Chaithanya was steady beside her. And there was one moment — both of them standing close, his hands on her bump, not saying anything — that I didn't ask for. I just saw it happening and got out of the way.

That image stayed with me.

The brief was simple: capture this phase before it changes. Before the baby arrives. Before everything reorganises itself around a new person. Just them, as they are today.

I think we got that.

Kiwi brought a different energy to the session. He's the kind of kid who has too much personality to ever sit still, and that's exactly what made him perfect in front of the camera. At one point he climbed onto his dad's shoulders, held that scan photo out in front of him, and grinned like he'd been rehearsing the shot for weeks.

He hadn't, of course. That's just who he is.

Months later, their daughter arrived.

They weren't in a rush to share it. They wanted time — to settle into this new version of their family, to let her be just theirs for a while. I understand that completely. Some things don't need to be announced. They just need to be lived in first.

When they were ready, I travelled back up to Scotland for the newborn session. Same family. Different feeling. Fuller.

Everything slows down. You don't chase moments — you wait for them.

Chaithanya held his daughter in both hands, that early-days hold, still getting used to how real she was. There's a tenderness to it that you never have to manufacture. It's just there, if you're patient enough to catch it.

Kiwi was there too. Already a big brother. Already softer around her than he'd probably admit.

And Sowjanya — the calm that comes after the waiting. After the birth. After those first weeks. It's a different kind of confidence. Hard-earned. She held her daughter with the quiet certainty of someone who had earned every peaceful second of it.

You get both chapters. The anticipation and the arrival. The family you were and the family you've become. Two sessions that neither one could tell on its own.

Chaithanya and Sowjanya trusted me with both — two trips to Scotland, across the months between one life and the next. That's not something I take lightly. Travelling for a session means I'm invested in it before I even pick up a camera. It means there's no rushing. No squeezing things in. Just the family, the light, and the time it takes to do it properly.

I'm glad they waited. I'm glad we did it properly.