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