Family Complete

Story contd.

I was so relieved the ceiling hadn’t fallen on me and my little son;my Guardian angel was on duty that day. After I had settled him in his cot I crept downstairs to phone William and tell him what had happened. He came home straight away and I persuaded him that I was fine and didn’t need to see the doctor but we had to do something about the ceiling. In those days work-men actually came when they said they would and although the builder couldn’t promise to reproduce the elaborate moulding exactly - he made a good job of it and the house stayed sound from then on.

Just one more surprise. I went down to the cellar one day to fill the brass coal bucket and was amazed to find the cellar floor hidden by a small lake. I hastily retreated and phoned poor William. By the time he got home the water had disappeared. Although no-one had told us, there was a well in the cellar which would over flow after extremely heavy rains. Nothing to worry about.

It was the custom then to have the first baby in hospital and the second- if all was well – at home. There were two midwives, one who was shaped like a hedgehog; she was dry with a twinkle so we christened her Mrs Tiggy Winkle and prayed she would be on duty for the birth. The other one was skinny with glasses and an expression as if she had just eaten bitter aloes. She was very dismissive when she saw the new single bed we had bought. It had a rounded bottom which seemed to incense her and she said it was far too low and must be put up on blocks.

We had set the bed up in the playroom on the ground floor where it looked out onto the back garden. William had a brainwave – as he thought – got eight breeze blocks from the garage and elevated the bed. I really lost my cool when I saw them – dirty, cumbersome and with the odd wood louse crawling over them. They quickly disappeared and were replaced by neat wooden blocks.

By now William was working for the MOD (Ministry of Defence) and had a reasonable amount of leave so he took time off to look after me during the birth and help with # 1 son and the new baby. To my delight it was Mrs Tiggy who was on duty when I started. It was lunch time and she said she had nobody else due so would stay with me. We all tucked into a stew I had made, and she said she knew when I was having a contraction as my face went ‘all pink.’

After she examined me she warned that I would probably have quite a small baby. It was a long afternoon and I remember lurching through the hall to answer the phone and having a strong urge to delay the whole thing for a month or two. Fat chance! We had a fire glowing in the play-room and the bed facing the window and Mrs Tiggy was concerned about the draught when the door was opened so we moved the bed and blocks against the back wall – much more satisfactory.

When it was bed-time for my son and William took him up for his bath Mrs Tiggy said,

‘Let’s try and have the baby before your husband gets down again.’

And we actually managed it with my special breathing coming up trumps and soon there was that delightful bawl from a new born baby. A beautiful boy and a glorious 8 pounds – a whole pound heavier then his brother. The one certain thing about midwifery is that nothing is certain. William was thrilled, I was thrilled and the nurse said I had done brilliantly. But – she was terribly sorry – she had tried to hold it together but the old wound had torn and I would have to have stitches. She knew what was coming.

Old Dr Rigg’s house backed onto mine so he was there in a trice and I had a repeat performance of the suturing with no local anaesthetic. Why the hell didn’t I protest but one feels so weak and helpless and it was again a bitter irony that I managed the birth like a trooper and then had to try to gag my screams with the inadequate gas and air mask. Poor William heard and later told my sister he couldn’t put me through that again and I made a decision that this was going to be my family – complete. I had always visualised a little girl (who later appeared as my first grand-daughter) but I would never change my two sons, not for all the tea in China.

When no-one was looking I sneaked to the phone – just outside the door - and phoned Mum. She hit the roof and ordered me back to bed out of ‘ that draughty hall’. Then my sister Mattie and husband turned up with a bottle of champagne which I wouldn’t touch as I intended to start feeding my sturdy little son. Eventually the guests left, William went up to bed and I was left alone in the firelight with him and felt a great thrill of happiness – all pain forgotten. We decided to have a go at this feeding business and – like his brother he clamped on with relish.

Normally with breast fed babies they have a sticky stool- meconium - for the first 24 hours but this little boy was so determined he had a normal stool by morning. It was an icy February morning and the daffodils were out in the garden. I wondered what the brothers would think of each other. I heard William bringing #1son downstairs. I’d soon find out.