Feedback Wanted

Okay, so I have yet to hear from the photographer who took Wilson's 7 week pictures and needless to say, I am DONE.
I am hoping to submit an article in the Great Falls Tribune and I would like your feedback. (Angie, I will look into your concerns. I have been working with someone from the better business bureau, maybe she can give me some advice as far as my/her legal rights.)
Your feedback is requested because I really want to publish this. I will be damned if this lady is going to: a. steal from me and b. steal from anyone else...


“There is something about becoming a mother that changes you.” I never understood those words until February 20, 2007 when my son was born in Benifis Hospital, Great Falls, Montana. I walked into the hospital a woman and four hours later that woman was left behind. Replaced by a more focused, confident, scared, and driven, mother. This little boy that I created (with my husband, of course) changed me. He changed us. It was, and is, a miracle. Looking at him, lying in his incubator, I could see my future for the first time clearly. He made me want more. Love more. Believe more.

Looking back, of course, I see this change but during those exhausting days I didn’t understand what had happened to me. My first days (and weeks really) were spent gazing at my son. Focusing on his every little detail; those little monkey toes, precious little hands, head bald as could be, sleepy blue eyes, and newborn clothes falling off him. When he smiled I knew it was indeed a real smile and not gas. Everything about him was mesmerizing and time was is flying by.

Two weeks following my transformation I found out that my little son was also transforming. We left the hospital with a sweet little newborn weighing 6 pounds and 14 ounces, and measuring 20 ½ inches long. Two weeks later, our precious little newborn, weighed 8 pounds and 3 ounces, and measured 21 ½ inches long. I was overjoyed that my little one was doing so well. We had struggled with nursing and, to me; weight gain was like earning a gold medal in the Olympics. My glee was combined with a compelling need to document. My little guy was growing fast, too fast. I think that I snapped at least a hundred photos a day, hoping to capture every moment. However, I quickly realized that my photos weren’t enough. I wanted to capture me with my son. I wanted to capture the transformation, of myself and of my family.

I searched high and low for a photographer and finally when my son was five weeks I found one. She took beautiful portraits and was willing to do our session in our home. My dream was coming true. Our transformation was going to be documented. I would be able to relish in this defining moment in time, forever. The photographer’s name is Amy Coe and her business is called Inspired Portrait and Design.

I wish I could say that I am writing this to express the joy I have experienced in working with this woman, but I cannot. Amy did a fine job taking our pictures and our money; however, she has not done as well delivering them. 6 months have passed, I have moved from Montana to Washington (she knew we were moving when we were photographed), my son has TRIPLED in size, and I have yet to receive my portraits.
My moments of transformation are lost, or misplaced, I do not know. I have contacted her countless times and have not heard from her. I have even asked local friends to call her, because my calls and emails have been avoided, and she has returned their calls, looking for business. When she was confronted with my name she explained that she is going to send my portraits, a CD of the photos, and a refund. Yet I have not received a word, let alone a refund.
I have cried over this. I have screamed over this. I am heartbroken that these pictures, pictures that I so desperately want, are not on my wall. My frame is empty, but I do not want yours to be. Do not allow this woman to steal from your wallet or, most importantly, your memories. Let someone else capture your transformation.