Giving Birth in 1958

In 1958 I was 17, married to the love of my life, and 9 months pregnant.

The first tummy twinges appeared at around 8 A.M. and gradually strengthened over the day, but not too disturbingly. I knew that some day this humungous lump in my stomach would want to come out and I was uncomfortable enough to be happy the day had arrived.

At 10 P.M. the twinges had become strong enough and close enough together for me to ask my husband to take me to the hospital. We, me 17 1/2 and him only 1 day past his 21st birthday, walked into the hospital and thus began my first experience with birthing practices of the day.

As we entered, a nurse whisked me away to an examination room and left my nervous husband to fill out forms. I was to stay and he was to go home. In those days husbands weren't allowed to stay with their wives through the birthing process...either because it was felt they weren't strong enough to handle it or the nurses just didn't want them in the way. I can't tell you how terrifying it is to be left with strangers when you are about to give birth. And the sad part is that we accepted this treatment without complaint.

My examination took seconds, it seemed, and then I was taken to a ward room. For the first few hours I had a roommate who spoke kindly to me and tried to allay my fears. From other rooms on the ward I could hear women moaning and screaming. Many were cursing their husbands! I thought their screams meant they were at the end of their labor and that's where I was headed.

I was soon left alone when my roommate was taken away to the delivery room. Picture a 17 year old child, in pain, and having little knowledge of what was to come. Even then there wasn't enough nursing staff on the floor to allow one to stay with me all the time. Occasionally a nurse would come in, check my progress, and then leave. I remember one nurse in particular who seemed to understand what I was going through and she spent extra time smoothing my brow and talking to me. I desperately needed my husband or mother with me but hospital regulations wouldn't allow it. What a cruel policy.

The birthing moment arrived and I was rushed to the delivery room, enveloped in pain (no epiderals in those days) and still among strangers. After 24 hours of labor I gave birth to my first daughter.

Kim weighed 9 lbs. 8 oz. Pretty big baby considering that I weighed 105 lbs. when I became pregnant. I gained 32 lbs. with the pregnancy and lost 25 of them before I left the hospital. Oh yes, in those days you stayed in the hospital 5 days after giving birth.

When I gave birth I had a boil (first and only time in my life) on my leg so, after Kim was born, I was put in a private room and not allowed to even see my baby for the 5 days I was there. I asked repeatedly to just have them bring her to the door but even that wasn't done. I was too young and naive to complain forcefully and don't know to this day why I was isolated. Maybe this is one reason why I'm now such a strong advocate of demanding your rights and not just accepting the rulings of "authorities".

When we finally brought Kim home, I wasn't well. I'd been given penicillin in the hospital and discovered I was allergic to it. My body was covered in hives and my breasts were rock hard from milk engorgement.

One day I laid in bed crying in misery while poor newborn Kim lay crying in her crib. My 16 year old neighbor, who later married my husband's cousin, heard the noise and came over to the house and up to our 3rd floor apartment. She picked Kim up and soothed her cries. I will never forget Donna's kindness that day.

Well, Kim managed to grow up into an exceptionally wonderful woman. I love her dearly and would go through it all again just to have her in my life.