Rite of Passage

Why soon-to-be moms have a local photographer on speed dial.

by Natalie Hope McDonald

WITH CHILD: "It's my first child. I wanted to have some memories," says Tania Figgs, above, with Austin, of having her pregnancy photographed. Photo By: Jamie Lyn Giambrone (CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VERSION)

Austin was born on July 6, 2007. But in the weeks leading up to his birth, his mother, Tania Figgs from Philadelphia, wanted to document her pregnancy. Fishtown-based photographer Jamie Lyn Giambrone captured dozens of photos of the soon-to-be mom. In one stark black-and-white portrait, Figgs peers downward, pensively cradling her pregnant, naked stomach in front of a sunlit window in her home. In another photograph, the pregnant woman makes a heart with her fingers around her bulging navel.

"I've seen other people get their photos taken when they're pregnant," says Figgs, 25, as she feeds her newborn. "It's my first child. I wanted to have some memories."

Giambrone, a Philly native who recently relocated back from Boston, has spent seven years photographing pregnant women for a documentary project she began while she attended the Salt Institute in Portland, Maine. She's since worked with midwives up and down the East Coast, meeting with dozens of women and photographing each stage of their pregnancies. Many of her photos capture the weeks leading up to childbirth. She also photographs the birth, and the new mothers and babies months later.

"Many people see the value of having something like this to document their childbirth," says Giambrone, a 29-year-old photojournalist who grew up in Cheltenham and Ambler. "The project started out because I was interested in modern-day midwives."

Giambrone's been seeking out midwives from New England to Philadelphia who may be interested in being a part of the project. Since many of Giambrone's photographs feature frank depictions of childbirth as well as portraits of moms-to-be, working with midwives has been an important link to subjects. Fortunately for Giambrone, Philadelphia, and its surrounding region, is home to hundreds of midwives. Dr. Katherine Dawley, director of Philadelphia University's Midwifery Program, estimates there are more than 350 licensed midwives in Pennsylvania. "The largest group is in the Philly five-county area," she says. Midwives account for 10 percent of births in the state.

"A lot of midwives are mothers themselves," says Giambrone. Many of her photographs capture the relationship between midwives and their clients, intimately engaged in discussions before and after the birth. She also photographs the dramatic childbirth itself. One photo of a woman named Dori in Maine shows a midwife's hands examining her pregnant stomach during labor. Another shows a midwife delivering a baby named Christopher seconds after being pushed from his mother's womb.

"When a woman is in labor, she focuses on other things," says Giambrone. "The photos can trigger a lot of moments that can get lost." In many cases, Giambrone says women who see the photos after their children are born are completely overwhelmed by the documentation. By employing a photojournalistic quality to the photos, each image takes on a spontaneous tone. "Memories that might otherwise be lost or overlooked are documented," says Giambrone. She says many clients have created photo albums to give to their children later in life.

Since Giambrone began taking photos, she's noticed a shift in hospital politics. "It's more restrictive now," she says. Many hospitals and birthing centers have denied the photographer access to her subjects. They have also created agreements that restrict what the photographer can shoot within the facilities.

During a recent photo shoot in Boston, a local hospital asked that Giambrone not photograph the doctors or any of the equipment during the childbirth. "There were certain machines that were off-limits," she says. In one case, a mother was asked to sign permission papers while in labor. "Sometimes they don't even allow families to take photos of the birth," she says. "I started getting closed out."

This led her to Kelley Faulkner, a midwife based in Hopkinton, Mass., who guides many women through labor in their own homes. Many of Faulkner's clients welcomed documenting their experiences for the photography project.

"[Giambrone] captured the relationship between mothers and midwives," says Faulkner, who says more and more women are choosing to have their babies at home. And many of her clients welcomed having a photographer present.

There are many reasons for the renewed interest in natural home-based births: familiarity, safety and security. But there may be an even more practical one. In April, City Paper reported that since 1997, 14 obstetrics programs in Southeastern Pennsylvania will have closed, reducing the offerings by 28 percent. In May, The Philadelphia Inquirer reported a noticeable rate of maternity ward closures. According to the article, 10 years ago, 19 Philadelphia hospitals were equipped to deliver babies As of this year, there are only eight.

This bodes well for local midwives, says Dawley of Philadelphia University, as more people look for alternatives to hospitals. "National studies show that we do as well or better than hospitals," she says. "And we provide [maternity] care all over the state." Dawley, a practicing midwife who often works in hospital settings, says only half of her patients request epidurals.

Last year, talk-show host turned weight-loss guru Ricki Lake produced a documentary responding to the state of maternity care called The Business of Being Born, in which she advocated for natural childbirth at home. Lake starred in the documentary, giving birth to her first child at home with the help of a midwife. Giambrone says capturing these moments on video and with still photography "is a bonding experience" for the mother, child and family.

"A lot of what is captured is the real miracle of the moment," she says. Many of her subjects pose nude surrounded by family and friends who create a "birthing circle," which is considerably more familiar than hospital staff.

In April, Giambrone worked with Faulkner to photograph a labor that lasted more than 30 hours. "By the time the baby was born, it was my birthday," says Giambrone. "They had baked a birthday cake and sung 'Happy Birthday' to both of us."

A few weeks earlier, the photographer got a call in the middle of the night saying that one of her clients was on the verge of giving birth. The mother had already gone into labor by the time Giambrone was on her way, and she missed the birth by two minutes. Since she'd spent weeks photographing the prenatal care, she photographed the mother and baby's first portrait together. "It's overwhelming," says Giambrone, "seeing a new human being for the first time." She says the project has been challenging: "I'm on call like a doctor."

Dawley says this type of documentation has deep roots in American culture. "Historically, the growth of midwifery was bumped along by photo essays in magazines like Life," she says. "In the 1950s, when there was a big push for maternity centers, there was a growth of nurse midwifery."

Giambrone says unlike the photojournalism she's done in the past, this project has eliminated the boundary that sometimes exists between a photographer and her subject. She's not simply documenting an event — she's often a part of it. "I wind up being more connected to the people," she says. "There were times when I was in a room with a couple and they'd ask me a medical question. You can't help but develop a relationship."

In addition to showing the "Modern Midwifery Series" photos in art galleries, she admits having a bigger plan this year. "My goal is to get it published as a book," she says. "It's amazing to be a part of this and watch a brand-new person being born. But I have to stay focused and not get too caught up in the moment."

(n_mcdonald@citypaper.net)

A slide show of Giambrone's photographs can be found online at www.jamiegiambrone.com.