When I, Frieda, was a little girl, people didn’t even say the word “pregnant” in polite company. I was probably six or seven when my aunt was visiting, and I called out, “Mother, don’t you think Aunt J__ is getting fat?” My mother’s reaction let me know that I had very definitely said something wrong, but I didn’t know what it was for a long time.
A few things from my early childhood are very clear in my memory. One is the birth of my little brother.
I was three years old and my sister was 18 months. This was 1940, at the end of the Great Depression and not long before World War II started. Daddy woke us up one morning and said he had a surprise for us. I remember thinking it was probably a special treat for breakfast (which would be nearly anything besides oatmeal.) He took us to the bedroom where mother was in bed with a little baby. They said this was our new brother, and his name was David. I asked where they got him, and they said God had sent him during the night. My next question was, “How do you know it’s a boy if he was born in that dress?” Mother answered that he didn’t come in the dress. I pondered this, thinking it extremely strange that God would send us a naked baby.
Later I was told that my sister and I had been breach babies, so Mother had to go to Parkland hospital (charity) when we were born. She was very glad to be able to have David at home with our family doctor in attendance.
In those days, conventional wisdom—and doctor’s orders–were that a woman should stay in bed for at least a week after giving birth. Daddy had no choice but to go back to work or we wouldn’t eat. Fortunately, according to Mother, we were obedient little girls, and she was able to direct our activities from her bed. I remember feeling very grown-up making us mustard and mayonnaise sandwiches every day for lunch. I suppose that was all we had in the ice box that I could manage.
My sister did cause some trouble by locking herself in the bathroom. It locked with a hook, and Sunny must have stood on a chair to reach it. She called me, and I called Mother, who had to ram the door with her shoulder hard enough to pull out the screwed-in hook. Women acquaintances who heard about this occurrence expected Mother to experience grave consequences, but evidently that didn’t happen. Soon she was up cooking for us and washing the diapers on a rub board in a galvanized tub.
(Esther here, I just had to insert that I’m very, very glad some things have changed!)
I agree. I am VERY glad things have changed! haha
How funny. I would have wondered, also, why my brother was wearing a dress. Except that when my little brother was born, all I could think about was why his head looked so red and small and weird shaped. I stayed up all night the first night they brought him home worrying that he might not look normal when he grew up. Well, he looks mostly normal now, so I guess it turned out alright. =)
I’ve never had a baby and don’t plan to ever have one. But I also am glad that things have changed 🙂
I think it’s funny that the word “pregnant” wasn’t used in polite company. I grew up in the 80’s, and I was not allowed to use that word. That was my dad’s rule. (He was born in 1946 and seems stuck. In. That. Year. He still thinks VCR’s are the BEST invention ever.)
You had a baby this week. How are things and do we get to see him? I hope everything went well and I have enjoyed the posts you’ve had the last few days.s
I like this story of 70 years ago…I know they did not talk about many things openly back then. My how things have changed
I always enjoy your stories, Frieda… And a can’t wait to see photos of the baby born but a few days ago…
That’s so funny, Frieda! I’m picturing God knocking on the door, with a baby in a basket under His arm. I am greatly thankful for a lot of our modern conveniences, but I love stories of previous generations, too. I could handle a doctor-mandated week in bed!
Great story, Frieda! I loved reading the thoughts you had as a young girl. And I’m very glad things have changed, too! Now I can’t wait to see photos of Esther’s baby! 🙂
Amen! So glad things have changed. It’s hard to believe the life you described was *just* 70 years ago. Long, but not long ago really! I always loved hearing stories from my grandparents, about life in the old days. =)
My daughter locked herself into a room once when she was a toddler, and I didn’t have a key. I can’t remember what my husband did when he got home (pick the lock?), but he got her out.
I am definitely glad for pain relief (epidural) for child birth. I don’t know how women of those days do it without them.
So nice to read about life in the old days.
It is nice to hear about “the old days.” It’s funny that your mother was told to rest in bed for a week, with 2 kids and a newborn needing care.
I’m sure no midwife would have said that. She would have known that’s next to impossible, certainly if Mom is on her own.
My baby was 3 weeks old when we moved to another country. I had to pack up the remaining stuff-an entire kitchen, clothing, plus stuff that was given or thrown away- pretty much right after I left the hospital.
And I had 2 other active kids to take care of too. Yes, my husband helped, but there was a lot to get done, and both of us needed to do it.
Interestingly enough, that was the best recovery I’ve ever had. I was tired, but physically I felt great.
It’s nice to hear about “the old days.” It’s funny that your mother was told to rest in bed for a week, with 2 kids and a newborn needing care.
I’m sure no midwife would have said that. She would have known that’s next to impossible, certainly if Mom is on her own.
My baby was 3 weeks old when we moved to another country. I had to pack up the remaining stuff-an entire kitchen, clothing, plus stuff that was given or thrown away- pretty much right after I left the hospital.
And I had 2 other active kids to take care of too. Yes, my husband helped, but there was a lot to get done, and both of us needed to do it.
Interestingly enough, that was the best recovery I’ve ever had. I was tired, but otherwise I felt great.
Wow, what an experience. I loved reading about it. Things sure are different today! By the way, I laughed til I had tears in my eyes at your innocent question of “How do you know it’s a boy if he was born in that dress?” Thanks for sharing the story.