Breastfeeding Art & the Fairbanks Breastfeeding Coalition's 2017 Art Show

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This April marks the third annual Breastfeeding Art Show & Competition put on by the Fairbanks Breastfeeding Coalition.  It has been such a lovely event.  I love seeing Fairbanks come out to support the cause, but even more, I've been incredibly impressed by the quality and variety of artworks that have been submitted for the show.  It's just been so much fun, and I've enjoyed being a participant all three years.  

This was my entry for the 2016 show, which won second place.  To date, it's still one of my favorite images ever:

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For the 2017 show, the FBC allowed each person up to three entries, and I took them up on it.   

The Landscape of Brothers

The Landscape of Brothers

Business as Usual

Business as Usual

The above image, "Business as Usual," won second place in the 2017 Competition. 

It was sooooo hard to pick the images to submit.  Here are a few more of my favorite breastfeeding images from the last 12 months: 

To keep up with the Fairbanks Breastfeeding Coalition, you can find them on Facebook here!  

The Birth of Jameson - Fairbanks Birth Photographer {Featuring Kristin Cash}

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I'm thrilled to publish this installment in the series of birth stories written by mothers (and photographed by me).  This is the story of the birth of Jameson Jack, by his mama, Kristin Cash.  

In truth, I've been sitting on this one for way too long.  When I first asked Kristin if she'd be interested in writing out her birth story for me, I had every intention of sharing it on the blog as soon as she sent it over - but it turned out that she had an insanely quick turnaround time and emailed it to me later that day (!).  

I opened it and immediately got goosebumps.  Instantly, I was taken back to the day of Jameson's birth.  Perhaps because of its great power to transport, I put its publication aside until I had the time to really pour over it and pick which images to share alongside Kristin's beautiful words.  

And now, here it is.  

I am so thankful to Kristin for sharing her story here, not least because she wonderfully illustrates the true diversity of experience that makes for beautiful birth.  

-Sarah

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The Birth of Jameson Jack, by Kristin Cash

There’s nothing more sacred to a mother than the story of the birth of her child. No story is the same. Each is unique. There is hardly any other moment in a woman’s life when she is equal part vulnerable and brave. When we are at our weakest moment, there we are the strongest. If there were ever an experience we would be utterly defensive without shame, it would be of the events leading to our child’s first breath of oxygen.

And so, it is with complete respect to every woman’s unique labor that I share the details of my third child’s birth. 

I have two daughters who were 9 and 7 years old when Jameson was born.  Prior to my pregnancy with Jameson, I had spent 6 years envying the mothers around me, baffled by my complete ammenhorea (an absence of a menstrual cycle, and thus of ovulation), which is a medical dilemma about which few doctors had any advice to give. During what should have been my menses, there was not a teaspoon of blood for an entire 6 years — until the month before he was conceived. 

The day I found out I was pregnant was both the happiest and the scariest of my life. I spent every nauseous moment eternally grateful for the life that was growing within me. As he grew, so did my maternal instincts to nourish and to protect, at all costs. At times, I felt I would give my own life for his if the moment ever came to that. At 16 weeks, a large, yet unknown, hematoma burst, and I bled unceasingly for three days until I was on the verge of a blood transfusion. Initially, doctors could not explain the cause. I thought I was losing my miracle, but an ultrasound revealed a happy, active baby completely unaware of the chaos just inches away from his temporary home. I felt like my breath had been taken away, and my gratitude was compounded by the weight of the moment. Every single day, I thanked God for tiny movements and hiccups.

Throughout my pregnancy, I had a clear vision: this baby would have a natural birth, the one I couldn’t have with my two older girls, who were both born by emergency cesarean (one under general anesthesia). I was beyond determined to keep him in there until he decided he was ready. I spent hours agonizing over his birth plan like it was the only piece of paper that mattered. I fought for my VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) with every fiber of my being.  

But fate had a different plan to save both our lives.

The day before he was born, he flipped his chubby little body like a mountain in my stomach into a breech position and wedged his head under my ribs. The hours that followed were the most exhausting and helpless I have ever known as the cesarean section surgery (which had always been my obstetrician’s backup plan) was scheduled. I have a bicornuate (heart-shaped) uterus, and attempting to deliver a breech baby with my uterus' unique shape while also bearing two previous cesarean scars would be life-threatening for us both. 

However illogically, I didn’t want to meet my little boy anymore. I only wanted to carry him within me forever and run away with him. The Pre-Op appointment was full of joyless edicts.  “No phone. No makeup. No keys. No camera.” And the terrifying protocol that after the surgery, the baby would not be allowed to room-in with me at night unless another adult was also present. I felt like they were taking my baby by force with the cruelest of intentions. I didn’t sleep the night before. I felt entirely alone. 

The morning of Jameson’s birth, I woke up and rebelled in a tiny measure as I did my hair and makeup against the hospital’s instruction.  I held my belly nearly every possible moment knowing that Jameson would soon meet his sisters and leave my body. 

That morning, I finally settled into the reality that I would never experience my natural VBAC.  Nevertheless, we held firmly to our birth plan, which outlined the gentlest cesarean possible under the circumstances.  We petitioned in advance to have our birth photographer in the OR with us.  I wanted every moment captured.

Pain is a reminder we are alive. Contractions during labor are the chords of love that bring our gift into the world. It’s a grace to experience the pains of labor, in ANY form. In my case, it was the cold-pressed hands of the anesthesiologist during my spinal block, and then the pressure as they cut to deliver him. 

Everything about the surgery was going calmly until the moment everything went silent. The obstetrician had delivered almost all of the baby’s breech body, bum-first through the typical low-transverse incision, when a uterine contraction clamped down.  The contraction trapped the baby’s small, breathless face for almost 30 seconds that felt like an eternity. After trying several maneuvers, the obstetrician made the difficult but necessary decision to make an additional, longitudinal incision in the uterine muscle - the so-called “T-incision”.  He was finally able to deliver the baby by pulling so forcefully that I felt amniotic fluid hit my face. 

My husband stood to watch the pediatric team reach for the baby, and Sarah held my hand as I waited to hear Jameson's first cries.  Waiting felt like the weight of the world was lying on my chest, until he finally muffled out a cry. I’ve never felt so much relief. 

It wasn’t a natural labor, but it saved his life. As the obstetrician began the surgical repair, we overheard him tell the assisting physician that given the baby’s position in the bicornuate shape of my uterus, an attempt at a vaginal birth could have been “catastrophic.”  

The kangaroo care wasn’t quite as immediate as I had requested, but his naked body was on my chest within moments and the vernix was left exactly where I wanted it, like the perfect baby lotion.  His nude little body didn’t leave mine for most of his first 3 days of life.

I am so grateful to Sarah for capturing the first reaction that meant the world to me: his sisters meeting him for the first time. 

Birth. It’s love. No matter how it happens.

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This birth story will appear in the forthcoming volume "Supported in Birth: Stories of Empowering Wisdom," edited by Maranda Bower of Serenity Grows.  

World Doula Week 2017

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More than once, I've been meeting with a potential birth photography client over a cup of coffee only to have them admit they feel like they can afford only one of the two: a doula or a birth photographer.  

Every single time, I've told them to hire the doula.  

Why on earth would I discourage someone from hiring me, you ask?  Because that's just how strongly I feel about the role of a doula in our childbirth culture today.  

Doulas may get a bit of a bad rap in the mainstream; I think they're framed as a sort of a luxury, or as if they're providing a service that really, you could be covering yourself (extra support during labor?  just pull up your bootstraps.  …Insert rolling-eyes emoji here).  Ali Wong, a stand-up comedian whom I might otherwise find to be a very funny lady, went on NPR and referred to doulas and lactation consultants as "white hippie witches," which I will freely admit I find offensive enough that I will never watch her Netflix special.  

I'm on the other side of the fence: I all but consider doulas to be indispensable, for first-time moms in particular.  In this day and age, it’s pretty rare to have attended a birth before having your own first child.  The value of having someone who is intimately familiar with birth by your side is, for me, unspeakable.  A doula is in your corner.  A doula is a gentle voice by your ear always able to reassure you that what’s happening is normal, or not.  A doula is pro-active support: trained to help manage labor, a doula suggests and supports positions and movements that are indicated by the unique position of your baby and how you’re experiencing labor.  A doula is an advocate and a confidant.  A doula is a cheerleader and a voice of reason.  A doula is there to take care of your whole family and to maintain your birth space so that you can be wholly focused within.  

I’ve been present to see so many beautiful moments between doulas and families, and I’ve heard new moms utter, “I couldn’t have done it without her” more times than I can count.  I’ve also seen many moments where I fervently wish there had been a doula there.  Like the time a Fresh 48 client needed to have their session at one week instead of 2 days, because after a 40 labor, dad - who had been so engrossed in mom’s needs that he also had not been drinking or eating over those 40 hours - passed out minutes after his daughter was born, hit his head on a table, and had to be admitted to the hospital for two days.  Or, in my own life.  I completely admit I didn’t have a good understanding of what a doula was when I was expecting my first child, or why hiring one would be a good idea.  My husband and I kind of shrugged and figured we’d be there supporting each other, and that would be all we would need, really.  What I failed to take into account was that neither of us actually knew what to expect from labor.  Neither of us knew how to pro-actively manage labor or how to remain calm and maintain resolve through what turned out to be days of back labor with a posterior baby.  A loving partner stroking your back while looking vaguely terrified about the amount of pain you’re in only goes so far, it turns out.  I often wonder how our birth story might have been different if we had hired a consummate birth professional to be with us.  There’s no going back in time, but I’ll tell you one thing: I hired not one but two doulas for my second child's birth, and then hired a doula again for my third child’s birth.  

I could write on and on about this - I have many soapboxes, and the care and support of women during the childbearing year (and in particular during and immediately following birth) is a large one on my podium.  So you might hear more from me on this topic at a later date, but in the meantime, I'm thrilled to share these recent images of doulas at work. 

Hug your doula, everyone.  They deserve it.  

 

Doulas pictured: Kyla Wilkinson of Boreal Beginnings; Kassandra Ryan of Confident Beginnings Birth; Jessica Christenson of Parvati Birth & Wellness; and Dawn Tozier of Joy Unspeakable Birth Services.  For a complete list of Fairbanks area doulas, please check out my page on Birth & Postpartum Resources in Fairbanks.

An Alaskan Haggis - Featured in Edible Alaska's Spring 2017 Issue {collaboration with Jennifer Nu}

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A few months ago I was introduced to Jennifer Nu when she needed someone to photograph her haggis for an Edible Alaska article.  (I'm aware of how wonderfully absurd that sounds.  I love Fairbanks ... you can't make this stuff up, people.)  Initially, I was a little puzzled about what appeared to be the Scottish vibe of her dish, but I almost immediately understood that her pursuit of haggis had almost nothing to do with international cuisine and everything to do with a grounded passion for a truly farm-to-table plate.  I soon realized that her Alaskan haggis (haggieses?  Is there plural form, or is it like "moose"?...) were elevating the noble pursuit of knowing where your food comes from (and using every part of an animal possible) to a whole new level.  

Jennifer's thoughts on Alaskan haggis - and her recipe - are featured in the current Spring 2017 issue of Edible Alaska, and there's even more on the Edible website here.  I highly recommend you grab a copy - it's a publication absolutely filled to the brim with wonderful stuff.  

As a continuation of our collaboration, Jennifer and I wanted to put something up on my little blog here, as well!  Here are a few more of my favorite images, along with some more thoughts by Jennifer.  All non-italicized text that follows is authored by Jennifer Nu.  You can contact Jennifer at jennu.jnu@gmail.com.  

-sarah

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When I first moved to Fairbanks, I quickly found myself blessed with many opportunities to purchase food directly from the people who dedicated their time and energy in producing it. As a home chef, it was a delight to engage in an endless exploration and experimentation with processing, preserving, and cooking local foods in old and new ways. While gardening, foraging, and cooking vegetables are all familiar, the nitty-gritty of harvesting and processing meat was a totally new adventure. I was excited at the prospect of access to wild game such as moose and caribou, and also locally-raised farm animals, like lambs and chickens.  

With so many options, I quickly realized how little I knew. I had so many questions: How was the animal raised? What did it eat? Did it have a good life? How does it taste?

Once these questions were answered satisfactorily, the questions became more practical: What parts of the animal are edible? What can be used? How does one be respectful to an animal that gives up its life?

My first winter, I eagerly purchased a whole lamb from Frigid Farm, a wonderful family farm run by Megan and Andrew Hamelin, a talented, super-hardworking couple in Two Rivers.  After purchasing the live lamb, I took it to my friends who helped me butcher it. At first I was just interested in the meat, but because I had purchased the whole animal who had given up its life, I really wanted to make an effort to honor its sacrifice by using as much of it as possible.

When my friend took out the stomach and organs, it occurred to me that there was a traditional Scottish dish that could be made with these valuable pieces: haggis.

It’s one thing hearing about an exotic dish and wanting to make it. It’s another to actually go out and make it. Figuring out how to make haggis has been a scavenger hunt of sorts. A gastronomic adventure that began with a series of questions, followed by a flurry of research using books from the local library and whatever information I could find in blog posts, recipes, videos, and conversations. One question soon led to another. How do I prep the stomach? Do I include kidneys? Why doesn’t that guy include the kidneys? Do I use the whole liver? or just half the liver? What kind of spices? Are spices like pepper even traditional to Scottish dishes? Garlic or no garlic? Do I add spices when boiling the pluck or not? How many times should I change the saltwater vinegar brine solution for the stomach?  Do I even have salt? Oh no, I need to go and get salt.

This experience has inspired me to learn more about eating those odd bits, the unspeakable parts, the just-as-essential pieces of the animal. Ultimately, this means getting to know it from the beginning to the end, and from the inside out. In the process, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for people all over the world who have perfected this art over the generations, and I look forward to continuing old traditions while at the same time creating new ones.
 

 

Jennifer also shared just a few of the things she's learned about offal:

  • All together, the lungs, kidneys, heart, and liver of a lamb weighed just over 2 pounds, plus throw in the rich flavors of the lacy fat that surrounds and protects the stomach, you’re looking at a whopping 700 grams, or 3 pounds of food!  

  • The liver is rich in iron and vitamin A, and D, as well as other easily absorbed  minerals and vitamins.

  • The kidneys are rich in vitamin B12, selenium, iron, copper, phosphorous and zinc.

  • Lamb organs are gorgeous packets of nutritional goodness packed with minerals such as iron, copper, vitamins A, B complex, folic acid, CoQ10, and much much more.