Our story

Why I built DearBaby

I built DearBaby because I was afraid of forgetting.

My son was growing faster than I could take it all in.

One day, he was saying “Daddy” for the first time. Then he was learning to say good night, discovering how to swim, riding his little bike, and racing through the house like a joyful tornado.

Life with a baby is beautiful, exhausting, hilarious, and wonderfully chaotic. I spend my days running after him, laughing with him, comforting him, and watching him become a little more himself every day.

I love every moment of it.

But while I was busy living it, time kept moving.

I had hundreds — then thousands — of photos and videos on my phone. Everything was backed up. Nothing was technically lost.

And yet, something was beginning to disappear.

I could still see the photograph, but I could not always remember the story behind it. What had made us laugh. What he had said just before I took it. How his voice sounded at that age. The tiny detail I was certain I would never forget.

A camera roll can preserve the image. It cannot always preserve the feeling.

That frightened me — not because I thought I would forget my son, but because I might forget all the beautiful, ordinary moments that made up our life together.

Because children do not simply grow up. They grow out of little versions of themselves we will never meet again.

That is why I created DearBaby.

A private home for the whole memory — not only the photo, but the story around it. The date. The voice. The first word. The milestone. The moment that made everyone laugh. The letter written today for them to open many years from now.

There are no ads and no public feed. Childhood is not content, and a child should never have to perform for an audience. These memories belong to the child and to the people who love them.

I know I cannot slow time down.

DearBaby is my way of remembering every version of him.

And perhaps, one day, it will help you remember every version of someone you love, too.

Amr

Founder of DearBaby

Every promise in this note is built into the app. Read how we protect your family’s data.

Silent film · 50 seconds
The film

The same story, in fifty seconds.

Everything above, shown rather than told — the problem, the private place we built for it, and what it looks like a year later. No sound; every word is on screen.

Read the transcript ↓

The film has no narration and no sound. Every word in it appears on screen, in this order.

  1. Thousands of photos.

    A dense grid of family photographs.

  2. Almost none you’ll ever find again.

    The same grid, blurred past recognition.

  3. One private place for all of it.

    A phone showing a saved memory, “The garden, after lunch”.

  4. A month of your child, at a glance.

    The Memory Calendar, May 2026.

  5. Some words are meant to be opened later.

    A sealed letter: “The day we brought you home, the whole world felt quieter and softer. I hope, whenever you read this, you still feel how loved you were from the very first moment.”

  6. The people who love them most — and no one else.

    The Family Circle — private and invite-only.

  7. A year you can play.

    The Video Year — twelve months of a single year.

  8. Built to be trusted with what matters most.

    Private by default · Invite-only family sharing · No ads, ever.

  9. Their childhood deserves more than a camera roll.

    The closing card — private by default, no ads, no public feed. Free on the App Store.

Start remembering every version of them.

Begin with a single photo today. In a few years you’ll have the story of a whole childhood — private, and ready to share with the people who love them.

Download on the App Store
first steps

Moments

The garden, after lunch Her first steps on the grass, arms up like a tightrope walker.
Wobbling by the sofa Almost — two first steps and a very soft landing.

Milestones

First steps Milestone · 4 May 2026

Letters

The week of your first steps A letter from Mum