A little more than 31 years ago, when I learned I was pregnant, I was ecstatic. Then I began photographing every part of my daughter's journey.

I started with a close-up of the positive pregnancy test, continued with pictures during prenatal visits to the doctor, took portraits of my evolving and growing belly — and finally, I took photos of her birth.

Yes, I photographed the extraordinary event as I was giving birth to my daughter at Baltimore's Sinai Hospital.

My first view (and photo) of her was a tiny hand waving at me from between my thighs. (The photo lives online as an honorable mention winner in a 2005 juried exhibit, "Decisive Moments," by WIPI, Women in Photography International.)

Before the birth, my husband, David, and I had prepared for the photography by visiting the hospital ahead of time. I took light meter readings in the delivery room where I expected to take photos using the reflections in the overhead mirror.

When the time arrived late on a Friday night, March 21, I took a picture of David holding my overnight bag at our front door. (However, the photo was blurred because I had a contraction just as I pressed the shutter.) On the drive to the hospital through a windy mix of snow, sleet and rain, David recorded a running commentary on our portable cassette player. He slowed down for me to snap a picture of the old Baltimore Beltway sign, "Future," so appropriate for this night.

As the doctor examined me at the hospital, I took a picture of her. Between contractions, I snapped photos of the wall clock. This was a well-documented event — but all did not go as planned. I never made it to the well-lit delivery room, because all spaces there were taken by a sudden storm of births at the hospital in the wee hours of spring's arrival (now March 22). Since I'd had Lamaze training, my doctor said we would manage just fine in the small, dimly lit labor room. This would require a slower shutter speed.

I photographed the doctor assisting in the delivery, and you can hear him on the audiotape saying he'd never had a patient holding a camera before. I rested between pushes but got my camera ready when the doctor said that the debut was about to happen.

This was a one-chance thing. Talk about pressure! But I was determined.

When my daughter's tiny arm rose up, in a seeming wave, I snapped the photo from my end of the table — and David shot pictures with his camera at the other. After a few more, tired and excited, I told David to take over.

My baby looked much like other newborns before she was cleaned up, but I thought she was beautiful. During this delivery, I had no sense of modesty. Why should I? I had brought a new life into this world. Everything about this event was beautiful, and there was nothing to be ashamed of.

My daughter's birth would have been wonderful without the photos, of course, but the photos allow me to preserve the small details and relive the depth of that moment.

If Sinai had told me I couldn't take photos, I would have gone to another hospital. If all the area hospitals had had limits on photography, I might have opted for a home birth. After all, what I had was essentially a natural, home-like birth in that tiny labor room. I had no anesthesia, no wires attached to my body.

To those who argue about the messiness of birth and lack of aesthetics, I say there is nothing more beautiful to a mother than her child just born from her womb. Besides, aesthetics was not my goal but, rather, documentation. For those who worry about parents getting in the way of their child's birth, I say it is their choice, as long as it is a normal birth.

Regardless of what hospitals say, I suspect that the rationale behind their policies against photographing childbirth has something to do with protecting themselves. Years ago, fathers were not allowed to be at the birth of their children. When I was born, in 1944, women were rendered unconscious and missed the first moments of their child's life.

I wouldn't have missed this special moment for the world.

Bonnie J. Schupp, a photographer and retired teacher, lives in Pasadena. Her blog is http://bjschupp.blogspot.com and her e-mail is schupp9@comcast.net.