Overreaction or a Racket?

Noah and I were prepared for Isaac, we spent months carefully planning and budgeting. We scheduled work over the summer at several camps so we could afford for me to change jobs. We called the insurance company several times to assure that everything was prepared for us to change policies. We budgeted our money so that we could afford to set up a nursery. We went to childbirth and parenting classes, and toured the hospital. We decided where we wanted to invest money and where we didn't. We decided to not spend the $150 on the 4-D ultrasound pictures, we also decided not to have professional pregnancy pictures made, and we decided to not spend a lot of money on professional newborn portraits; we wanted to wait and invest money in six month portraits. Knowing that I would be without pay for almost two months was a bit of a stretch for us, but we knew we could make it because I would continue to play harp gigs that December starting when Isaac was three weeks old, and we had enough gigs lined up to cover the loss of my normal paycheck. Everything would be fine, but there was no wiggle room for those first couple of weeks. 

After I had given birth to Isaac, I was given a checklist from the hospital. This checklist told me all the things that would happen during my hospital stay, shots, tests, ect.. One of the things on this checklist was to have my baby's picture taken. The professional photographer came by our room and told us she would be by later, but she was very busy and would be back soon. I knew there was a professional photographer at the hospital and had even brought an outfit for Isaac for this occasion. The photographer came back, and took pictures of Isaac and the left. I didn't think anything of it. 

But...

The next day she returned. She came in after editing the pictures and showed us the slideshow on her ipad. While the slideshow shifted through the 17 beautiful pictures of our son, for whom we had prayed so hard, some horribly sappy music played in the background. I was so pleased, I hadn't expected them to be so nice. Then she gave us a pamphlet with the prices, pointed out the package deals, and the deal that 'most parents' bought.

$300.

The package she wanted us to buy was $300. My heart sank. I collapsed in tears. This was the first time I had cried since Isaac had been born. I'm a bit of a picture fanatic, pictures mean a great deal to me, and these were lovely pictures, the loveliest pictures I had ever seen.

My family talked me down a bit, I didn't need that package. It included all sorts of things I didn't even want, like birth announcement cards that I never had any intention of sending. What I wanted was just the pictures, that picture c.d. That cost $125.

For months and months after, every time I related this story, I would choke on my words because this is what gets me:

Noah and I could afford it. We had no money in our bank account for almost a week after, but all our bills had already been paid. We hadn't planned for that purchase, but the money was there.

I would imagine for many families in that hospital, that money is not there. It would not be merely an inconvenience, it would not be a struggle they could make, it would be an impossibility.

I know if seems such a petty thing. We should count our blessings, a healthy baby and mother, and family, food for our children, clothing on our backs, shelter over our heads, money to pay the rent: I know that these are the things that matter.

But...

You've just given birth, your hormones are crazy, you are proud of this child and they take these pictures, show them to you in some hyped up way, play up your emotions and then ask you to pay hundreds of dollars for these pictures.

I would imagine some people don't care at all, but I can't help but think that there are those who do care, who would love these pictures that they take, put on your checklist no less, but just can't afford them. 

It seems cruel to me.

I told Noah, if we are blessed with a second child, the photographer will come and take the baby's pictures, but she is not allowed back in the room with her slideshow and music. When she comes back, Noah will just hand her the check (and we will budget for this), take the c.d. and put it away until I am prepared to look at it.

My heart breaks as I imagine the emotions that course through the woman who is filled with the emotions of pregnancy and childbirth, who might worry about providing for the child as she's forced to sift through these idyllic pictures which she cannot afford.