+
“A balm for the soul”
  review on Goodreads
GOOD PEOPLE Book
upworthy

mother

New baby and a happy dad.


When San Francisco photographer Lisa Robinson was about to have her second child, she was both excited and nervous.

Sure, those are the feelings most moms-to-be experience before giving birth, but Lisa's nerves were tied to something different.

She and her husband already had a 9-year-old son but desperately wanted another baby. They spent years trying to get pregnant again, but after countless failed attempts and two miscarriages, they decided to stop trying.


Of course, that's when Lisa ended up becoming pregnant with her daughter, Anora. Since it was such a miraculous pregnancy, Lisa wanted to do something special to commemorate her daughter's birth.

So she turned to her craft — photography — as a way to both commemorate the special day, and keep herself calm and focused throughout the birthing process.

Normally, Lisa takes portraits and does wedding photography, so she knew the logistics of being her own birth photographer would be a somewhat precarious new adventure — to say the least.

pregnancy, hospital, giving birth, POV

She initially suggested the idea to her husband Alec as a joke.

Photo by Lisa Robinson/Lisa Robinson Photography.

"After some thought," she says, "I figured I would try it out and that it could capture some amazing memories for us and our daughter."

In the end, she says, Alec was supportive and thought it would be great if she could pull it off. Her doctors and nurses were all for Lisa taking pictures, too, especially because it really seemed to help her manage the pain and stress.

In the hospital, she realized it was a lot harder to hold her camera steady than she initially thought it would be.

tocodynamometer, labor, selfies

She had labor shakes but would periodically take pictures between contractions.

Photo by Lisa Robinson/Lisa Robinson Photography.

"Eventually when it was time to push and I was able to take the photos as I was pushing, I focused on my daughter and my husband and not so much the camera," she says.

"I didn't know if I was in focus or capturing everything but it was amazing to do.”

The shots she ended up getting speak for themselves:

nurse, strangers, medical care,

Warm and encouraging smiles from the nurse.

Photo by Lisa Robinson/Lisa Robinson Photography.

experiment, images, capture, document, record

Newborn Anora's first experience with breastfeeding.

Photo by Lisa Robinson/Lisa Robinson Photography.

"Everybody was supportive and kind of surprised that I was able to capture things throughout. I even remember laughing along with them at one point as I was pushing," Lisa recalled.

In the end, Lisa was so glad she went through with her experiment. She got incredible pictures — and it actually did make her labor easier.

Would she recommend every mom-to-be document their birth in this way? Absolutely not. What works for one person may not work at all for another.

However, if you do have a hobby that relaxes you, figuring out how to incorporate it into one of the most stressful moments in your life is a pretty good way to keep yourself calm and focused.

Expecting and love the idea of documenting your own birthing process?

Take some advice from Lisa: "Don't put pressure on yourself to get 'the shot'" she says, "and enjoy the moment as much as you can.”

Lisa's mom took this last one.

grandma, hobby, birthing process

Mom and daughter earned the rest.

Photo via Lisa Robinson/Lisa Robinson Photography.

This article originally appeared on 06.30.16

True
#WhoWeAre

Meet Bonnie Brown. She's a single mother who works at Wendy's to help support her teenaged daughter. She also has a disability.

Recently, Bonnie was interviewed by her 15-year-old daughter, Myra, for a StoryCorps video where she opened up about what it's like to be a single parent who is intellectually disabled.

Amazingly, this conversation manages to put that sometimes indescribable bond between a mother and her daughter into words. It also highlights the protective nature of their relationship.


"There were times when we would go out, and people would just blatantly stare, and I would say something," Myra says in the video.

Every mother-daughter relationship has its ups and down, of course, just like any other relationship. But for this pair, Bonnie's disability is just one of the things that makes up who they are. We all have stuff to carry, and this is something they both carry, together.

Watch the moving conversation between this mother and her daughter in the video below:

Melissa Spitz's mother was institutionalized for the first time when Melissa was 6 years old.

Back then, Mrs. Spitz had just been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and as the years went by, her mental health continued to decline. She worked her way through a hysterectomy and cancer treatment, which led to alcohol abuse, a prescription pill problem, and, eventually, a divorce from Spitz's father.

"I was actually extremely fortunate and started seeing a therapist when I was 13. It was initially to deal with my mother’s recent cancer diagnosis, but naturally a lot came up," Spitz said. "As a kid it was chaos and nothing made sense. I empathize with her a lot more, but I really feel as if I am still putting all the pieces back together."


"The last time Dad remembers Mom being 'Normal,' Bumbershoot, Seattle, 1994." All photos by Melissa Spitz/You Have Nothing to Worry About, used with permission.

After her parents' divorce, Spitz turned to photography as a coping mechanism. But it wasn't until she got to art school that she turned the lens on her own mother.

One of Spitz's undergraduate photography projects at the University of Missouri involved documenting an element of her private life for class. There was no question that she'd be heading home to immortalize her mother's fragile state.

"By turning the camera toward my mother and my relationship with her, I capture her behavior as an echo of my own emotional response," she explained in her artist statement. "The images function like an ongoing conversation."

True to her mother's bipolar diagnosis, the resulting photo series, "You Have Nothing to Worry About," depicts a life of stark binary contrasts.

Spitz shoots candids as well as posed photos. Some images upset; others encourage. Some show the good parts of her relationship with her mother, and some show the bad.

Spitz passed the class, of course. But seven years later, she still hasn't finished the project. In fact, she plans to keep documenting her mother's struggle with mental illness as long as she's alive — for her mother's sake and for her own.

"Picture at home, 2015."

"It can be exhausting, but it is extremely cathartic," Spitz said.  "I really believe every image is just as much an image of me as it is of her."

"How can it not be?"

"We are both willing participants and both share the highs and lows of our relationship," she added.

"Mom doing her make-up, 2016."

Spitz eventually uploaded her photos to Instagram and found that the framed and fractured feel of the feed actually enhanced the experience of viewing the photos.

"I decided to try something new and started slicing my images and building these grids. It felt like the perfect opportunity to think about a social media platform in a different way," she explained.

The scattered chronology, varying photo sizes, and fragmented images that resulted made the photo series even more reflective of her mother's condition and their relationship.

A screengrab of Spitz's Instagram feed, showing a collage of the first portrait she took in 2009 (below) and shots from an exhibition where she displayed her photo "Quiet Please, 2016" in a similar fashion.

Instagram has also helped her vivid images to reach a wider audience — many of whom deal with similar problems.

Spitz's photographs don't just put the spotlight on her mother. They've also contributed to the larger conversation about mental health and helped to encourage people to share their own stories, often in the comments of her Instagram page.

"I have always wanted mental health to be treated the same way as physical ailments and that support for family members would be more readily available," Spitz said. "I hope my body of work and Instagram can be a small champion of this support system."

"Note from Adam to Mom, 2012," which inspired the name of the photo series.

Spitz has captured countless moments of bleak, honest beauty on camera. But she's seen her share of frights as well.

There are photos in the series of her mother's continued panic attacks, for example. Other photos show the huge regime of pills her mother relies on for stability and a B.B. gun, which her mother keeps "for protection."

"My brother and I have come to terms with the harsh reality that one day we will most likely be survivors of a suicide. It is our biggest fear," Spitz wrote in one particularly harrowing post, accompanying an image of her mother sprawled out on the carpet. She explained:

"When I used to live at home I hated unlocking the door, I constantly imagined her dead. As a kid I found my Mom laying on the kitchen floor, or bathroom floor multiple times. I remember her looking at me once and asking, 'Where’s Melissa?' She was so out if she couldn’t even recognize my face… I was 16."

Photography makes it easier for Spitz to cope and understand her mother. But it can't cure her mother's illness.

For all her struggles, her mother is moved by the power of her daughter's work — and she hopes that it can help other people, too.

"If I can help one person not feel alone, I am glad I’ve shared my story," her mother said.

When Spitz first embarked on her photographic journey, her mother was still living in the house that she had owned with her ex-husband and was still drinking heavily. But she was given a new voice just from seeing herself through her daughter's eyes. That empowerment helped lead her to quit drinking and to move into a new apartment.

Spitz's relationship with her mother is just one story of life with mental illness. But her willingness to share that hard story with the world is really important.

Not every case of bipolar disorder — or of difficult-but-loving mother-daughter relationships — looks the same. Even Spitz herself is careful to point out that her work is not intended as a blanket statement on mental health overall.

But at a time when mental illness is still constantly stigmatized, stories like these can open people's eyes and remind us that every family has their struggles and that everyone deserves compassion and support.

Warrick Dunn knows how to keep his head down and keep moving. For 12 years, his career depended on it.

The former running back was a first round pick for the NFL in 1997, and was later named Rookie of the Year. His professional career spanned more than a decade, with three stints in the Pro Bowl and countless other awards and accolades. In his final year with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, he became the sixth NFL player ever to rush more than 10,000 yards.

For most athletes, that kind of resume would be enough. But for Warrick Dunn, it's just one small fraction of the story that reveals his real endurance.


Photo by Andy Lyons/Getty Images.

Dunn's mother, Betty Smothers, was murdered when he was 18 years old — leaving him as the legal guardian of his six younger siblings.

Smothers was a Baton Rouge police officer, as well as a single mother. She was off-duty and working an evening security shift — something she often did to provide for her family — when she was shot and killed by bank robbers.

"She gave me the best 18 years of my life. She was my best friend. She taught me everything about life. I lost a lot when I lost her," Dunn told USA Today in 2005.

With help from his grandmother, Dunn was able to split his time between his family and his burgeoning education and football career at Florida State University. "I was able to provide them with everything that a parent would be able to provide them with. It’s what my mom would’ve wanted," he said in a charity blog post. "I didn’t live my life for myself; I lived my life for them. I really did try to give them everything possible to give them a normal life."

Photo by Brian Bahr/Getty Images.

But to him, his mother's legacy was bigger than his own kin. Which is why he founded Warrick Dunn Charities in 1997.

According to the website, "Warrick Dunn Charities was created from the belief that a better future starts with hope. We are dedicated to strengthening and transforming communities through combating poverty, hunger and improving the quality of life for families and children."

Their slogan? "Improving lives. Instilling hope. Inspiring communities." 

One way that Dunn's organization achieves this is through Betty's Hope, which offers grief resources and education for children. The other is Home for the Holidays, which eases the financial burden of homeownership for economically-disadvantaged single-parent families — helping others to realize the property-owning dreams that Dunn's mother always wanted but never lived to achieve.

Photo by Al Messerschmidt/Getty Images.

As of December 2015, Home for the Holidays has provided homes for 147 families, with a goal to reach 150 by this spring.

What does that mean, exactly? It means that Dunn's organization covers the down payment on the house and also supplies families with fresh linens and a fully-stocked pantry, along with some electronics, such as a television or computer. As Dunn told The Daily Snark, "They only have to bring their clothes."

Other well-known athletes might revel in the spotlight, using their charitable actions to boost their own brand. But Dunn is content to let his actions speak for themselves.

This probably doesn't come as much of a surprise considering how seamlessly he stepped into a caretaking role at such a young point in his life.

Even at the height of his NFL career, Dunn was humble and frugal with his earnings. "I try to tell the family, 'Let's buy out of necessity,'" he said in a 2000 interview with the St. Petersburg Times. "Now, sometimes it's good to get things you don't need to be rewarded, but let's not go overboard."

Photo by Jamie Squire/Getty Images.

That's not to say that Dunn is entirely selfless — in many ways, his charity work is just a part of his own grieving process.

"This one incident has made me so hard and closed that I wanted to continue to progress and move forward," he said in a 2009 interview with ESPN, shortly after visiting one of his mother's killers in prison. 

"I know that [my mother] sacrificed her life for us — the six of us. I know she's proud. She's proud of the fact that I hadn't gone crazy. I hadn't gone down the wrong path, that I've done something positive with my life."

Photo by J. Meric/Getty Images.

Here's a recent video of the famously soft-spoken running back discussing his mother and his Home for the Holidays program.

And if you want to support Warrick Dunn Charities in their goal of giving away 150 homes this spring, you can make a donation onlineOr you can help by simply spreading the word, so that ever-humble Dunn can focus on helping hundreds of other families in need.