In 2009, I was asked by the Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine to exhibit my photographs taken for parents who had experienced perinatal loss-the death of a baby. During the run of the show, I received an email from Eliza Meade, an obstetric/ gynaecology resident. "For whatever reason, maybe because I'm not a very "touchy feely" or "emotional" person, I didn't expect to have a reaction to your exhibit. This made the experience even more powerful for me when I started crying. As an OB/Gyn resident, the life-changing experiences for our patients, like having a baby or a "crash" cesarean section, is all somewhat routine. It's not that we take it for granted, but it's simply what we do every day and every night. For this reason in and of itself, we aren't emotionally consumed and we probably would not be able to function long-term if we were. This is not to underestimate the overwhelming emotion that I feel anytime I have ever diagnosed an intrauterine fetal demise near term, or watched the welling tears of a patient who learns that her water broke at 20 weeks. That being said, there is for me the subconscious safety of escape-both literallyandfiguratively.l can hidebehindthe"medicalization" of any experience (i.e., now we will start the pitocin and wait for contractions to begin, we want you to be comfortable, you can receive your epidural wheneveryou desire).
展开▼
