Amanda van Scoyoc

It is hard for me to talk about what I experienced yesterday. I tend to feel embarrassed and raw after experiences that break me down and pull me apart. For the last 24 hours I have been telling myself the story over and over in my head. It is as if I need to digest the story for a couple of days before I believe it really happened.

At 3:05 PM yesterday, after almost 30 hours in the hospital, Damaris gave birth to 8 pound 6 oz Andrea Isabella. I was fortunate enough to be there with Damaris from when they induced her through the birth until when her extended family showed up to meet a peaceful Andrea and an almost unconsciously exhausted Damaris.

In the afternoon when they induced Damaris, we were all excited. The monitors showed that she was having contractions, but she didn’t feel them. For a few hours she was dilating, contracting, and in no pain. It was delightful. At night, Damaris’ mom left. Andres, Damaris and I were left alone for the night. It felt a bit like a sleepover and for a moment I actually thought “the three of us together all night… this is going to be really fun.” We had cots and blankets and an endless supply of drinks and popsicles. We watched TV, set up and talked excitedly into the video camera… and then the pain came.

With Damaris in constant pain, it was hard to feel a part of it at times. Pain is disillusioning. It is impossible to understand another’s pain and it is so difficult to even describe. Without it’s own vocabulary, pain must be explained by similes, (As Damaris so eloquently stated, “It’s like a bowling ball in my ass.”) Fighting my own sleepiness, I was aware of Damaris’ pain, but I am quite sure that Damaris was more aware of my lack of pain.

During the night it got worse and then better and then worse as she slowly dilated. We weathered the night and then the morning with Damaris on heavy painkillers. Around 2PM she was finally 10 centimeters and the pushing began.

During the course of pushing Andrea out of her, Damaris had her moment of complete exhaustion and demanded a C-section. Her mom said over and over on top of Damaris’s pleas and through her own tears “Tu Puedes, tu puedes, tu puedes.” Andres showed me how his hand was shaking. I walked away with tears and fiddled with my camera. Damaris is one of the strongest women I know – and to see her in such pain was overwhelming.

In this small room watching the baby pulse closer and closer to the opening- there was no embarrassment. It was easy to become so wrapped up in the pulsing as to forget that this struggle in the end was Damaris’ alone. With out hands wrapped around hers and our arms pulling her legs back we were still only outsiders watching the greatest miracle of life. With Damaris exhausted and the baby’s head only inches away (it’s black tuft of hair peaking through) we could not convince her to go on and we all broke down (all except for the nurse who kept up her cheers of “you can do it Damaris, you can do it.”) After a few minutes, she regained composure and decided that she was getting the baby out as quickly as possible. And within 10 minutes Andrea emerged as the doctor pulled her head out with surprising force. She was blue and still until that first breath, and then she sprawled her arms, grasped at the air, turned pink and sobbed.

At the hospital, it was hard to know what to tell people I was. We said that I was a friend and that I was videotaping. I came carrying a huge tripod, a medium format camera, a 35 mm camera, a digital camera and a video camera. I was conspicuous walking down the hall of the delivery ward with 30 pounds of equipment hanging off of me. I had to explain over and over why I had all of the equipment and what we were doing, and how I knew Damaris.

During the delivery, at one point I heard Damaris’ nurse inform Andrea’s nurse of who was in the room. She said, “the patient’s boyfriend, the patient’s mom and her best friend,” for a quick moment I felt that that we had fooled the nurse. But thinking about it, besides my boyfriend Damaris is as close to me as anyone else in Boston. In a strange way, I am much closer to the girls I work with than I was with very good friends in college. I guess asking very personal questions of one another all the time will do that over the course of the year. When I started this fellowship, I never expected that these kinds or relationships would be a byproduct of documenting lives.

After Damaris gave birth her mom said to me in Spanish while holding little Andrea, “I only hope that Damaris and I can be there when you go through this. You should do it soon.” I smiled not really having the skills to respond well enough in Spanish.

News Release
Media Contact:
Roca
Angie Rodriguez
(617) 889-5210 x258
Angie_Rodriguez@RocaInc.com

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
July 10th 2008

Roca, MGH, and the Alliance for Teen Pregnancy Sponsors Young Motherhood Photo Exhibit August 6th

Chelsea, MA – July 2008 – Roca, MGH and the Alliance for Teen Pregnancy is co-sponsoring the opening of Young Motherhood in Massachusetts, a community-based photography exhibit envisioned by Amanda van Scoyoc, which opens on Wednesday August 6th from 5-8 p.m. at the Gallery at Spencer Lofts. The event, “Raising them Right” is an exhibition of photos, words, and paintings made in collaboration with young mothers in Chelsea, Revere, Lynn and East Boston, documenting their experiences of pregnancy and motherhood. The Gallery at Spencer Lofts is located at 60 Dudley St, Chelsea, MA; the event is open to the public, refreshments will be provided.

Amanda van Scoyoc, the photographer, worked with Roca in Chelsea, MA to create the images for this exhibit. She is a graduate from the University of Pennsylvania ’05, with a B.A. in Psychology and a minor in Fine Arts. For the last six years, she has worked on a variety of documentary projects, and over the last year she volunteered at two nonprofits in Guatemala and Honduras as a photographer. Most recently, she has been working at a Boy’s Club of America as an art teacher, incorporating journaling into her teaching.

Roca, which is celebrating its 20th Anniversary this year, is founded on the belief that it is unacceptable to lose so many young people to violence and poverty in our country. In the last twenty years, Roca has won nationwide respect and recognition for its effective and innovative approaches to helping young people live self-sufficiently and out of harm’s way. Roca’s vision is clear; young people will leave the streets and gangs to take responsibility for their actions and have jobs. Young immigrant mothers will raise their children in safety and be recognized for their contributions to society. Our communities will have the ability to keep young people out of harm’s way and in turn, thrive through their participation and leadership.

MGH Chelsea offers primary care for children, adolescents, and adults and has specialists in obstetrics, gynecology, cardiology, neurology, hematology, oncology, geriatric medicine, rehabilitation medicine, occupational health, and mental health. MGH Chelsea recently expanded and now offers Chelsea families additional medical services during longer, more convenient hours than ever before.

Founded in 1979 as the Alliance for Young Families by eleven Boston-area agencies seeking to improve teen parent services, the Massachusetts Alliance on Teen Pregnancy is the ONLY organization in Massachusetts dedicated to ensuring that state policies and programs effectively address the complex issues associated with teen pregnancy. The mission of the Massachusetts Alliance on Teen Pregnancy is to provide statewide leadership to prevent teenage pregnancy and meet the service needs of pregnant and parenting teens and their children through policy analysis, research, education, and advocacy. The Alliance works to ensure that Massachusetts’ youth have access to comprehensive pregnancy-prevention services and that pregnant and parenting teens and their children have the resources and support they need to thrive. Our means for achieving these outcomes are to educate, empower and support young people and the adults who work with them to become leaders on the issue of teen pregnancy prevention and the needs of young parents.

I have finally made my decision. I

Ever since I started getting into graduate programs I have thought about this decision in relationship to the Kentucky Derby. Leaving small notes for Eli.

harvard dude

desk

The summer is as lovely as was promised. Energy is high. And the wanting has come back. The wanting comes in waves. There is much to do, art to be made, letters

One of the best parts of our new house is a tiny room off of the master bedroom where our baby, currently known as Mini Van, will sleep. We haven’t finished it quite yet, but it is close to being done. I love looking around and seeing all of the gifts that people have given this unborn child. Mini Van is going to be brought home to a room that is just brimming with love from so many people both near and far.

Mini Van’s Nursery

Mini Van’s Nursery- view from our bedroom

Some of Mini Van’s best friends to be

Mini Van’s room

Mini Van’s Bookshelf

A first day of my third year of grad school photo. As you may have noticed, I am pretty pregnant these days. Due in early December. We have also moved to a new place that can handle the space requirements of this new creature. I love looking back at the progression of first day of grad school photos. The first year I was so excited and had just bought an old crappy bike from a trailer park to ride to school. Last year was the first with Cerie and I had switched out the crappy bike for a new one that improved my commute significantly. This year there’s the obvious pregnancy, no more biking, and the new house. It is strange to think that next year I’ll be holding onto a 9 month old baby. Then hopefully there will only be one more photo after that.

First day of the third year of grad school

The Hine Fellowship Program at Duke asked me to write a reflection on an old photo. I thought that I would share here as well.

Damaris Moment of Birth

This photograph was taken on April 12, 2008. Damaris was nineteen years old, Andrea was seconds old, and I was twenty-five. I was in the corner of the delivery room trying to be as inconspicuous as I could be with a Hasselblad camera attached to a large tripod. I remember fumbling around with the manual focusing, certain that I was going to miss capturing the image of Damaris holding her child for the first time.

That year as a Lewis Hine documentary fellow I was collaborating with a group of adolescent mothers to record their experiences. Our end goal was to create a body of work, including their photographs, my photographs, and their words, that could document their reality. We envisioned that this work would tell the entire story of adolescent parenting, including both immense struggle and unconditional love. As a part of working together, Damaris wanted me to be there in the hospital with her to document the moment when she became a mom.

After I took this photograph, I made one nice print, which I promptly gave to Damaris. At the time, I thought that this photograph had less to say about adolescent motherhood than some of the more complicated images of young mothers and their children. The photographs that I ended up choosing for exhibits felt more balanced. They demonstrated love while hinting at the difficulties of being an adolescent while raising a child. This photograph did not hint at struggle. Instead it demonstrated the universal joy of motherhood.

A couple of years later, I returned to Chelsea, Massachusetts and spent a week living with Damaris and 2 year-old Andrea. When I walked into their apartment, one of the first things that I noticed was this photograph displayed prominently on the wall. Seeing it brought me right back to that captured moment, and I realized that this photograph has everything to do with adolescent motherhood and all motherhood. Now, when I look at this photograph, I remember the intensity of emotion in that room and notice the care of Damaris’ open hand enveloping Andrea for the first time. It is a photograph that is similar to many other photographs hanging in many other homes, but it is also Damaris’ moment, and a part of her story that I was there to share.

It has been four years since my time as a Hine Fellow. I am currently in my second year of a clinical psychology PhD program and am planning my dissertation research. For my dissertation, I am working with women who use substances during pregnancy. Although there is plenty of research showing the negative impact of prenatal use on child outcomes, the research that is available does not focus on women’s experiences using substances during pregnancy. Despite working with a very different population of women now, I have the same mission that I had working with adolescent mothers as a Lewis Hine Fellow. I am asking questions, listening, and trying to understand. I need to hear women’s stories and allow their experiences to enter the conversations that impact policy change.

In this work, this photograph reminds me that I need to hear not only about the barriers and difficulties, but also about the love and connection during pregnancy and after a child is born. We cannot forget the wonderful parts of parenting that are common to younger mothers, older mothers, and mothers struggling with addictions. The women that I work with now, just like all of the women that I have ever worked with, adore their children.  Yes, they have unique struggles with addiction, but not every moment hints at this hardship. They also gave birth and held their child for the first time, cradling with caution, and smiling adoringly. When asked about becoming a parent, they look back and remember the unconditional love

Despite the harm their substance use can cause, these women also want to protect their children. Many of them recall trying over and over and over again to stop using during their pregnancy, but lacking support, and being too afraid to seek out help. Their desire to protect is a piece of the story that cannot be forgotten but that is too frequently cast aside. As we consider the best interests for mothers and children whose lives are compromised by addiction, perhaps our greatest ability to help women get clean and stay clean is unlocked by remembering that caring, protective, and joyful moments are also a part of these women’s stories. I believe that our greatest ability to help women may lie in connecting with the love and motivation that already exists inside them. As a researcher working with women who struggle, I have learned that even for women who struggle the most, not every moment hints at hardship. Some moments are just absolutely wonderful.

original post at http://lewishinefellowshipblog.org/archives/528

And the summer is gone. We are onto year two of our lives in Oregon.

Eli and I always take “first day of school” photos. For posterity’s sake, here is my first day picture from my 18th year of school.

Yes, Cerie is holding a small milkbone on her nose for the photo.

First day of Amanda's second year of grad school