Pregnancy advice books. Illustrated books informing mothers-to-be about embryology have been in circulation since the early twentieth century. But none was as popular as Nilssons A child is born, a bestseller in numerous languages (Swedish edition, 1965; U.S. edition, 1966). In contrast to Life, where embryos floated alone, these books placed development firmly within the female body and as an addition to a heterosexual couple. In the following decades, images of aborted embryos have remained the cornerstone of cutting-edge books on pregnancy. An example is From conception to birth (2002) by anatomical artist Alexander Tsiaras and writer Barry Werth. That book combined images of early Carnegie collection embryos with high-tech scans of the uterine contents.

Reading a pregnancy advice book. The pregnant woman in the picture is looking at what appears to be the 1990 edition of Nilssons bestseller, opened at pages 118 and 119. This uncommissioned photograph is part of a series showing everyday activities of pregnant women, thus implicitly acknowledging the impact of Nilssons work in popular culture. It was taken in London in the early 1990s by the British photographer Anthea Sieveking, a specialist in the photography of babies, children and especially childbirth. Her vivid, naturalistic photographs of birthing women and newborns are included in books by Janet Balaskas,the pioneer of the Active Birth Movement that advocated free movement in labour and childbearing in an upright position.

The lonesome space traveller

In the 1960s embryo and fetus were shaped in the public imagination by magazine use of images from the Swedish photographer Lennart Nilsson.

In 1965, Life magazine published a story about human intrauterine development, centred on Nilssons memorable images. These were not the first embryo photographs in the press or even the first to show a developmental series. In 1950, Life had itself published a set showing development between the third and thirteenth weeks. But it was Nilssons images that became twentieth-century icons. In contrast to the blurry black-and-white ultrasound scans, they shared in the explosion of colour in print and on screen. They also came at a critical time: more monitoring of pregnancy, more human reproduction taught in school, abortion-law reform on the agenda and high interest in science.

Although claiming to show the living fetus, Nilsson actually photographed abortus material obtained from women who terminated their pregnancies under the liberal Swedish law. Working with dead embryos allowed Nilsson to experiment with lighting, background and positions, such as placing the thumb into the fetus mouth. But the origin of the pictures was rarely mentioned, even by pro-life activists, who in the 1970s appropriated these icons.