On a daily basis, women put themselves at the hands of hospital staff trustingly, often in a state of desperation due to pain or bleeding that is no longer tolerable, or an emergency delivery recommended by their provider. The process is accompanied by anxiety about the unknown and what is to come. Recovery is often unpredictable and can be fraught with pain and complications. Although so many undergo this process daily, it is a silent part of women’s lives, often not discussed due to embarrassment or our culture’s avoidance of discussing female problems.

As seen in the Boston Globe Ideas Section - April 2, 2024.

Operating room table draped and ready for a cesarean section.

Throughout my years as an obstetrics and gynecology resident physician, I have been privileged to operate on women of all ages and for many different purposes – delivering life, removing gynecologic cancer, excising painful endometriosis or fibroids. Patients’ fears and questions preoperatively mostly stem from the vulnerability of exposure and lack of control in the process to come. Will I have pain? When will I feel like myself again? How long will I have bleeding? Will I wake up from anesthesia? These women have often lived years with daily bleeding, uncomfortable prolapse, or hopes for a medication-free vaginal delivery, now being rushed to the operating room for an emergent cesarean section.

Operating room lights peer down at the patient as they are put to sleep.

It was only recently that I began taking photos of the operating room floor after procedures, realizing how impactful these frames could be. The images captured and displayed here aim to bring awareness to experiences women have on a daily basis in order to bring life into the world, halt dangerous bleeding, live comfortably in their bodies. My hope is that these still moments can provoke a conversation that brings two people together, to bring the vulnerability of gynecologic surgery out of the operating room and into the space between people - to share and create conversation, to foster support and community around an experience full of fear and uncertainty. I hope you enjoy my first series, made up of my favorites.

In my early days I was struck by the pattern of a patient’s blood moving through suction tubing during a surgery. Blood flowed freely for the good purpose of improving someone’s life, and I realized how few people would know what this woman had gone through prior to her surgery, and the recovery she had in front of her. I started to notice splatters of blood on the floor, often universally beautiful and symbolic of a process, conscientious work and reciprocal trust, that had come together for the completion of this surgery and ultimately an attempt to improve a woman’s daily life.

A portion of proceeds will be donated to the Foundation for Women’s Cancer.

All photos taken with permission.