The aim of A Labor of Love is to give the reader an insight into my work, my photographic images, and also to have them feel as if they know more about the person behind those images. Photographing babies exclusively has been extremely rewarding and in many ways challenging. At this stage in my life and career, I feel the need to share the motivation for my life's work. I suppose we all have preconceived notions about people who find themselves in the public eye. Often when I meet people, they say, “I didn't think you would look like you do,” or “I imagined someone totally different.” I have wondered what they really expected. Babies for me are an incredible emotive subject matter and my work is intensely personal, but I feel that it expresses passionate and deeply held universal human values. Probably as a result of this, people come to my images from their own sense of judgment and perspective.

However, the story is not just about me. Over the years I have come to realize that newborn babies are very powerful little people. The Chilean poet Pablo Neruda once said, “They can cut all the flowers, but they can't stop the spring,” and this is what newborn babies represent to me—our eternal chance at new beginnings. They are our future—so pure, so perfect, so innocent, and with so much promise. They should, each and every one of them, be protected, nurtured, loved, and encouraged.

From a photographer's viewpoint, writing a book has been an interesting and yet somewhat daunting experience. Naturally, I am more accustomed to speaking through my imagery, which is where I feel most comfortable. What has been surprising is that the writing process has taught me a lot about myself as I revisited many of the different stages of my life. It has helped me to understand more clearly the reasons why I am so committed to the photography of babies and the message I am constantly endeavoring to convey through my work.

As described in the book, my upbringing was certainly vastly different to the way my husband and I have chosen to raise our own girls. I feel with our own children that we have loved and encouraged them in a way that enables them to understand, as women in today's world, anything is possible for them.

From a very young age, I was always aware of some sort of calling in my life, a constant sense that the future held something more for me. Growing up in the 1950s and into the 1960s, I would pore over magazines such as National Geographic and Life, my favorite, no doubt because it placed such a high value on the strength and quality of its photography. I loved images of people and remember being fascinated by the concept of a single still image capturing an exact moment in time that could never be repeated. When I was almost 18, and traveling in New Zealand for the first time, I began taking literally hundreds of photographs, observing and learning to appreciate the different qualities of natural light. It was then that my love for photography slowly began to develop further. It wasn't until some years later when I was married and in my mid-twenties, that I finally had the courage to take the plunge and endeavor to establish a small portraiture business. My intent was to capture not only a child's image at a young age, but also the child's wonderful individual character.

I absolutely adore babies and everything they stand for. They represent our future, absolute promise and potential. The opportunity to fulfill that potential should be the automatic right of every human being, but we know that is not the case for some. Babies to me represent hope. They are incredibly beautiful and meaningful, and as an artist, I find them continually inspiring. They are all brand-new citizens of the world, with no notions of hatred, racial bias, political dogma, or religious intolerance. Since the moment I first picked up a camera professionally, I never wanted to do anything else. When I was beginning my career, people assumed I photographed babies because I was a woman. Other photographers said they photographed babies themselves when they were starting out, as if babies weren't legitimate subjects for an established artist, an attitude that still puzzles me. Personally, I couldn't think of more important, rewarding, or meaningful subjects.

For me, a photograph constitutes art when viewers are awakened to an idea or visual experience they might not have had otherwise, helping them to see their world afresh and sometimes in a totally different way. The essence of a great child portrait is, for me, that the magic and the intangible individual energy of that child at that particular age are captured. And with a child, the magic or energy is always in the eyes.

Many people have told me they visit my web site every morning as a form of positive affirmation for the day. That speaks volumes for the energizing power of the newborn. I seek to portray the absolute purity and promise of the newborn. In this "new world" in which we all find ourselves, it has become even more important to reinforce our core values. Our lives have become fragmented and busy; many people (including myself) are searching for a source of calm, comfort, and balance. I hope the babies pictured in my images provide this to some degree. My own desire is that my imagery will help to create a strong platform of hope and promise for humanity and the future. Babies speak a universal language. In any country in the world, the emotional connection between a mother and her newborn is equally powerful.

I'm incredibly proud that over the years, from the publication of my very first calendar in 1992, I have been able to contribute significantly toward raising the level of awareness of the problems of child abuse and neglect. My husband, Kel, and I, through the Geddes Philanthropic Trust, assist many charities around the world that are working in this important area, and have donated several million dollars to this cause. In terms of one single moment, I think it would have to be the day in January 2001 when we were able to offer a US$1 million donation to Childhelp USA to support its 24-hour National Child Abuse Hotline (1-800-4-A-Child). Kel and I both felt that we had been able to make a solid commitment in one area that would clearly make a significant difference not only to abused children, but also to the wonderful people who dedicate their lives to working in this area, often with serious funding issues.

Often parents send their own photographs directly to the studio and, as a result, I never use modeling agencies to find babies for my work. I recently relocated my studio back to Australia and am now based in Sydney so have made contact with local midwives, twin clubs, multiple birth associations and the like. Once a few people know that models are required, word spreads quickly among their families, friends and communities and we are contacted by parents-to-be keen to have their babies involved. We often receive telephone calls from brand-new parents who are still at their hospital or birth-care center. I recall one very excited and proud new father phoning us half an hour after his baby was born!

Many people say to me that they imagine the studio atmosphere could be very noisy and chaotic, but it's not like that at all. On the contrary, it's usually very calm and quiet, particularly when I am photographing newborns, which is what I mainly do these days. It seems that the older I get, the younger my subject matter becomes. Perhaps it's also because I don't have the energy to chase two-year-olds anymore.

I also like to play soft classical music when I'm working. I'm a particular fan of Mozart, as I find many of his compositions very calming. I have a comfortable "mothers' area" in the studio, fully equipped with a baby-changing area, where mothers can relax and chat. As soon as everyone is settled, I greet each mother and explain the image I want to achieve. We gently undress the babies and wrap them in one of my personally designed baby wraps of breathable cotton. In the studio itself, there is also a lounge area, so parents can be close to their babies while I am shooting, and be part of the process, too.

I work with a very small team of people whom I trust completely; we have been together for many years. They are very responsible and experienced with babies of all ages. I have my own basic, but very strict, rules for my staff when handling babies. For example, every baby has a separate changing area, with fresh coverings at all times. Whenever we hold a baby, we always remain within eyesight of a parent and explain our next step to the mother or father. Hot drinks are never served and older siblings, in particular toddlers, are never allowed in the studio when I am photographing small babies. We are always conscious and respectful of the huge responsibilities involved with photographing such young children.

I'd love to say I have a magic remedy for helping babies to settle and sleep-not true! The sleeping babies in my images are almost all newborns who will usually fall asleep if they are warm, comfortable, and have been well fed. A relaxed mother generally means a relaxed baby, so we make all our mothers feel welcome and special-as they indeed are. We have a good old-fashioned rocking chair in the studio; in fact, Lucas and I are sitting in it in our photograph at the beginning of A Labor of Love . I always try to photograph in the morning because I've found babies to be more settled earlier in the day, and everything is always prepared and rehearsed the day before. Once the babies arrive, everything needs to revolve around them.

Essentially no. A beautiful image speaks for itself, regardless of whether it was created on film or in a digital file, and both have their own unique attributes. I use digital cameras pretty much exclusively for my personal photography. Particularly as I travel so frequently, I no longer have to worry about carrying exposed but undeveloped film, which can be damaged easily in X-ray machines at airports.

Yes, quite often I do and I love to receive letters and e-mails from some of the early babies that I photographed who are now teenagers and young adults. It's lovely to see how these beautiful chubby six month olds, for instance, have grown into tall gangly teens. In A Labor of Love, I have photographed six of the babies who were featured in my early images, as they are today. We all enjoyed the experience so much that perhaps I may do a more comprehensive book sometime in the future, showing more of the babies as teens and young adults. That would be a great project. So, if you are one of the babies that I have photographed over the past 25 years and we have lost touch, please contact my web site (www.annegeddes.com) if you feel you may be interested in taking part.

I hope people take away from A Labor of Love the understanding that it is the right of every child be loved, nurtured, and encouraged in order to realize its full potential. I hope that I have been able to prove by example that it is possible to emerge from the shadow of a less than perfect childhood, and yet go on to live a meaningful, creative, positive, and inspiring life.