Here's looking at you, kid: After Sonny nearly died at birth, his father has celebrated every precious month of his life with these delightful photos




Gazing down at Sonny’s tiny body in an incubator, I felt my eyes fill with tears. Brushing them aside, I raised my camera and snatched a precious picture.

This was our longed-for first son — the child I had feared we’d lose even before he entered the world. My wife Diana had endured an agonising three-day labour, because of Sonny’s position in the womb.



He was born limp, grey and lifeless. For those heartbreaking first few minutes he couldn’t breathe, and a crash team frantically massaged his little chest until it finally heaved into coughing, writhing life.

We’d only been allowed to hold him for a brief moment before he was rushed away for emergency X-rays and placed on drips, so the picture I took was Diana’s first real sight of her boy.



During his first week of life on the intensive care ward, battling the effects of his traumatic birth, I wondered if it would be the only picture we’d ever have of him. But he grew stronger and was, eventually, allowed home.



On June 26, 2009, my wife realised that Sonny was exactly one month old, and had the inspired idea of taking a photo of him that day, and on the same date every month for the rest of his childhood.

While most family albums contain just a few candid snaps of children on holiday or playing in the garden, and lots of posed pictures of birthdays and Christmases, our aim is to document every aspect of Sonny’s life, from mundane trips to the playground and supermarket, to illnesses and special occasions. We even hope he might continue the tradition when he grows up, taking photos of himself every month into adulthood.

But, for now, that seems such a long way away. Three years into our project, we have almost 40 pictures of our son, which beautifully capture his transformation from a desperately ill baby into a boisterous little boy — and which remind us how lucky we are to have him.

Two hours old: Bruised, exhausted - but, mercifully, alive - our son Sonny at University College Hospital, London, on May 26, 2009