The first feeling of a young mother (to be) (unless she has been very
intelligently trained or is very ignorant) is one of fear for herself
when she finds out her condition. As time goes on she will probably
lose this fear in the feeling she is to have something all her very
own, but in some instances the dread grows, and in a sense fills her
whole being. This must of necessity weaken her bodily and mentally,
and, of course, makes her time of trial harder to bear.
I remember over my first baby, although I felt delighted to think
I was to be a mother, I had a very nervous fear that my baby would
prove weakly because I had suffered for so many years from chronic
bronchitis. I believe this dread had a very bad effect on my nervous
system, with the result that when I got within a fortnight of full
term my baby was born very weakly, and I had a severe labour lasting
two nights and two days. (This was twenty-three years ago.) No effort
was made to obtain help for me, although my mother at that time was
starting to practise as a midwife, and had all a mother’s fears for her
daughter in her first labour. At that time it was much more usual to
trust to Providence, and if a woman died it only proved her weakness
and unfitness for motherhood. My baby only lived seven months. In spite
of all this trouble, I was very glad when a year later I found I was
to become a mother again. I was still weak, and this baby was born
at eight months, very tiny but not weakly. I again had a slow time,
lasting two days and one night, but not so severe as the first. I had
what is known as “white-leg” during the lying-in period. This is
usually due to a septic condition, and may be induced by uncleanliness
or careless handling during the first stage of labour; again, a chill
will produce this state, and this was the cause in my case, owing to
getting out of bed on the second day rather than call mother upstairs
when I needed her. My last baby was born at a time when we were really
badly off. My husband was out of work during the greater part of the
time, and I was not only obliged to work myself, but often went short
of food and warm clothing when I was most in need of it. The effect
on my health was, of course, bad, but the baby was a fine healthy boy
weighing over 12 pounds. Bad as was the effect on my bodily health,
the mental effect was worse. I nearly lost hope and faith in everyone.
I felt that even the baby could not make up for the terrible strain I
had undergone, and at that time I could fully enter into the feelings
of those women who take drugs to prevent birth. I know I ought to have
been more strong-minded, but anyway, I got through all right after all,
and, strange to say, I got up feeling better and more hopeful than I
had felt for years. During this pregnancy I never dared to allow myself
to think of the time when the baby would be born; first, because I knew
the pain would be so bad, and then because I realised that I would not
be able to work when I got near the end and for some time afterwards. I
left off a month before and did not start again for four months after
the birth. I don’t know now _how_ I got through, and it is a nightmare
to me yet. (I may say here that although we were so poor we stuck to
the Store all through, and this was a great help.) I believe if I had
felt quite comfortable as to the position of my other children during
the time when I would be laid up, my sufferings would not have been so
great, or my dread of the labour.
_Wages 25s.; three children._