The magazine of the art-form of the photo-essay “A free, really high quality photo-essay magazine.  Fabulous!” Stephen Fry. British actor, writer and film & documentary maker

February 2015 issue

by George Nickels

In Cambodia, if you’re a man, being present at the birth of your children is widely frowned upon. As both the prospective father, and a camera wielding photo-journalist, attending and documenting the birth of my son was a challenge to say the least. On 26th December 2014 at 8.00pm my partner of nearly nine years alerted me that her waters had broken. She started to have her first contractions, but we were advised to stay home, get some food and rest, and wait it out till night changed into morning. By 7.00am, after a sleepless night, the intensity of Madeline’s contractions reached a peak every 10 minutes; it was time to leave. Descending 7 flights of stairs, from our apartment in Phnom Penh, we hailed a remork (tuk tuk) to take us across the city, on a journey that would change our lives forever. As is common in the capital city, the driver said yes he knew where to go, (which meant no, I don’t, please tell me), so with the limited Khmer that I knew, and ten minutes trying to explain where the clinic was, we came to an agreement and departed. For 20 minutes, in a rickety wooden carriage towed by a 125cc motorcycle, on substandard roads, we careered through early morning city traffic on with Madeline panting heavily all the way to the clinic. On arrival, Doctors and midwives monitored the baby’s heartbeat, and then lead us to the room that we had pre booked, ready for Madeline to start the first stages of labour. For the next 4 hours, the intensity in the room increased tenfold; I watched as the midwives coached Madeline with every technique in the book to ease her pain and mental state. Encouraging deep breathing and keeping her calm was part of my support role .When the staff decided she was ready, my partner told me to grab my camera. She was screaming as they wheeled her upstairs to the delivery room, and I realized I was about to begin documenting the birth of my son. From a photographer’s point of view, taking photographs of my woman giving birth was not easy. She was in a lot of discomfort and pain, so trying document this, whilst retaining her dignity, was both mentally and physically draining. There were other factors I had to take into consideration. Room to move was at a premium; I was in a small delivery room with 6 staff and a pregnant woman, so gaining the trust of the midwives and doctors was essential. Lighting conditions were very harsh, and Madeline was constantly moving from one chair to another, from standing to sitting, and from crouching and crawling positions. The majority of the time I was supporting my partner and wishing for a safe and problem free delivery, and she says she can only recall one moment of me taking photographs from the entire labour. Madeline was having very heavy contractions whilst kneeling on the floor on her hands and knees. My natural instinct as a photographer kicked in, and as I lay on my back in front of her, pointing the camera at her pain stricken face, I composed the frame and took the photograph. This was the only point in the delivery when my partner told me to stop taking photos and to hold her hands!” The images shown were taken in the last three hours of a fairly short 7 hour natural labour, and at 1.50pm on 27th December, we were blessed with our first son, Frank Nickels.