The perfect wonder of a newborn baby will hold you spellbound. Time passes. You barely look up, because you’re busy watching her breathe, the gentle swell and fall, the flickering fingers, the repertoire of expressions, already so many although so few days have passed.

You watch. Slightly hushed. Not wanting to wake her. Wanting desperately to wake her to look in her eyes and meet her properly.

I’ve looked in her eyes and said hello so many times since then. But not nearly enough.

I’ve held her when she giggled and cuddled her when she cried. But not nearly enough.

I want that time back again. But I can’t have it.

So I look at the photographs I have and settle very happily for that. And make a date to see my old friend and her two daughters again. Not before time.

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And it wasn’t the first time she found her toes totally fascinating.

Although to reach them, past that gorgeous baby chub, she did need a little help from Mum.

Biting Dad’s nose was a big hit in the brilliant baby antics competition. But it wasn’t that either.

In fact, this family session was like so many of mine – full of tickles, giggles, hugs, and squeezes. Some say I’m overfamiliar. I jest. I absolutely respect your personal space. Promise.

Little Isabella arrived and completed a trio of gorgeous, joining Emily and Adam and making them both giddy with love. I watched them be fascinated by her, floored by her beauty, delighted by the mere fact she existed.

So having worn her out a little bit, with all that smiling and squeezing, toe hunting and group cuddles, it was time for a quick nap. Emily put her down in her cot, and we all three just stood there for a moment and watched her.

And then she did it. Obviously thrilled to have an audience, ready to wow the crowds, and make her parents very proud.

Sometimes you do catch a lucky break.

Sometimes you get yourself in the right position at the right time to capture a “first time” in a young life.

I photographed the very first time Isabella rolled over. And it was joyful. Because after the event, the tears rolled too.

But this baby is full of ambition. With rolling over checked off the list, she’ll be making over plans. Crawling, walking, the odd spot of world domination. Before she can shrug her shoulders and suggest “that was nothing”, she gives me the facial expression equivalent of that.

So refreshed, victorious and topped up with milk, Isabella was released onto the carpet for a damn good stretch and smile.

But there’s always time for Daddy. Always.

And Mummy makes 3.

On the day I photographed them all together, she was the centre of their world. And so she should be.

I love to photograph the beginnings of a family – the awe, the laughter, the joy. It spills out, it bubbles over. You capture it, return it to them in a photograph, and give them images that mean something, that have weight, that are heavy with love. I never get tired of it.

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She arrived, like all great gifts, on a birthday. Her Mum’s.

Shona was determined to persevere with breastfeeding because she felt it was best for her baby. But it wasn’t a smooth or easy process. India Rose had a severe tongue-tie, which made breastfeeding extremely difficult for both of them. Some new mums find achieving a latch tricky enough, without the complication of a baby with a tongue-tie. It can make the breastfeeding experience an extremely painful one, and many mums without enough information about tongue-tied babies and possible treatment, reluctantly decide to move on to formula.

Thankfully, Shona had the information and support she needed to make breastfeeding work for her and her daughter. She’s proud, as she should be, of the struggle and getting there in the end. Now she’s able to enjoy moments like this, sat in her favourite patchwork armchair, legs drawn up beneath her, India Rose cradled in her arms.

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“Where’s Kate?” I heard a little voice say. So when she saw me, she smiled. Not really at me (although people are often overjoyed to see me, of course) but because she knew she’d managed to wait long enough. “Leche?” she asked her mum. And so we got to work, finding the best light in a little pocket of space by the kitchen window.

Leche is Spanish for milk. I only know this now because I asked Gheila. My GCSE French is appalling, so maybe I can be forgiven for not recognising Spanish being spoken by a toddler.

The reason Kitty knows it (apart from being a bright little girl) is because her mum is a member of La Leche League, a group that offers breastfeeding support from mother to mother. If you’d like to find help and friendly support in your area, you can find a local group here.

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Then the floods.

They called him Noah. Coincidence I think. But a beautiful name for the smiliest of baby boys.

Breastfeeding was new to Anita, and not just because Noah is her first child. Like many people, it wasn’t something she was familiar with because there was little or no experience of it amongst her family or circle of friends as she was growing up. Over the years attitudes have changed, the advice has fluctuated and I think this has left many people confused. I’ve heard that there was a time when bottle feeding was actively encouraged, when the advice at that time steered people away from their own inclinations. We take on trust the advice we are given and we do the best with the information we have.

But Anita felt very strongly that she wanted to breastfeed her own child, despite it being extremely painful to begin with. One thing that has been repeated over and over in the personal stories I’ve been told is that it may be a natural act, but it doesn’t always come naturally. It can be a struggle and refining the art of breastfeeding is most definitely a process for the mums I’ve photographed.

Anita told me that she loves being ready wherever and whenever Noah needs to feed. She laughed when she told me that remembering to sterilise bottles would have been a challenge, because she can’t quite get the hang of left and right still. There’s no need to pack up a bag full of formula and bottles, because she carries all the equipment with her. It’s there as she walks out the door.

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We chatted about how you could lose hours just sitting and staring at them. Watching them dream when they sleep, then looking at them looking at you when they wake. To see them grow and develop, watching how their individual characters sustain and flourish, is a real pleasure.

And then that time together breastfeeding. It’s such a special, unique experience for a mother and her baby. In a world that has sped up, that flashes and beeps at you, that demands your attention and forces things to go faster, time seems to slow down when breastfeeding. The only movement is the fall and rise of breathing. The sound – that gentle, soothing sucking sound. And the tiny gulps that follow.

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The milky-tongued, nose-scrunched up yawns were pretty gorgeous too.

This little lady would not be rushed. We waited, and watched, and photographed her whilst she slept. This session even took a break for lunch in the middle. If there had been a photograph of my face on the day, it would have been one of blissful, tummy contentment. I was very, very well fed. This is a family who know how to look after guests in their home. They want you to feel looked after, welcome. I did.

Mum and Dad were sent so many gifts that we had plenty of choice of what to dress her in. So there were outfit changes aplenty, and lots of smiles about that. I’ve never met a baby so happy to be changed and dressed all over again. She giggled, and laughed and smiled her way through all of her outfit changes.

But it was never long before she needed a little siesta again. So that’s when I captured the tiny, pouting lips and the long eyelashes that fringed her eyes.

Awake again. Ready for action. Spoiling for a fight.

Pets welcome. Always.

Her beautiful crib. A little oasis of calm. For a while…

..before we recreate the look of those grabber machines stuffed full of toys and teddies. She LOVED her toys.

And to finish, another slice of time with a sleepy baby and two very happy parents.

I can take those pictures of you all looking at the camera, absolutely. I know what Grandma wants. But, for me, nothing ever beats the way a new parent looks at their child. It is softness, and love, and a very special moment of connection. I know when she grows up and looks back at the photographs I captured that day, she’ll smile to herself, knowing how much she was loved on that day. And on the days and years that follow.

Daughters are worth waiting for.

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Quite simply, I had some serious house envy when I arrived.

You walk in to Heather and Daniel’s beautiful home and you feel the space and enjoy light-filled rooms straight away. And then I learn that they built it themselves, from the bottom up. Literally up, since they turned a bungalow into a beautiful two-storey home. It feels like a wonderfully warm family space to live and grow up in. I can imagine little Dylan finding his feet, toddling first, then running circuits throughout that lovely space – a home built with love over long years. I know Dylan will flourish there.

They told me it took time, patience and and a whole lot of persevering to achieve. But it was worth the camping out in one room, the dust, the delays. Everything to get to the stage where on a beautiful day, with constantly changing weather outside, you could sit with your son, in that gorgeous green chair and nurse him.

And I’ve been hearing the same sort of dedication from so many of you that I’ve photographed for the MILK project. Breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world, but that doesn’t mean it comes naturally. It might not be easy or immediate. It may take some time, some practice and involve a little pain. But it is worth it. Absolutely and overwhelmingly so.

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You’ll be learning to share your toys. Which is tough. But luckily you have that grace period, where your sisters can’t reach the best toys you have, and their little legs don’t stretch down far enough to ride your rocking horse. For a while, they have to stick to cuddles with Mum and Dad. This is not a bad option.

But it’s a good thing that Mum and Dad have arms and hearts big enough to cuddle their entire family. And those gorgeous twin girls – they have the benefit of a big brother to show them the ropes of growing up.

Maybe the girls can’t ride the rocking horse, but they can already enjoy the comfort of Mum on the rocking chair.

But you are the big boy of the house. You don’t have the time to just sit about. You have responsibilities. Like making sure that horse of yours is feed well. You can’t canter over hill and vale on air.

A big, juicy, red apple should do the trick. With or without your own little teeth marks on it.

Waste not, want not. If the horse can’t finish it, the boy rider can.

If he wasn’t hiding behind a cuddly bear, he was proudly showing me his toy collection. And with his stash, he has every reason to be proud.

In this family, Mum is a keen collector of beautiful things. So when I walked into his bedroom, it was like revisiting my own childhood – and my parent’s childhood too. I’m sure I remember a picture of my Dad pushing around a toy dog just like this one. I’m sure I remember playing with that same toy, dug out of the garage at my Grandparents’ house.

Just seeing that dog, tied with a ribbon and a bell, brought all of those memories back to me in a rush – the long drive through London, the afternoon teas, reading books to Grandma on the sofa, and picking apples from Grandpa’s trees at the bottom of the garden.

One look and they were all there – the warm comfort of the familiar.

I hope that these images bring the memories flooding back to this family – to when the kids were young and loved to cuddle. Each photograph is a little bit of the past made present – a moment made physical, to be held, relived and loved all over again.

For the twin sisters, they have a link back to a time before they can remember, to when their brother was big and rode wooden horses for fun.

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