Newfie June - With Tender, Loving Care

On a recent visit to Newfoundland, I was recounting tales of family lore to my siblings that had been passed on to me by Mom and Dad while I was growing up. I have often wondered if I was told more stories than my siblings, as I was one of the younger children in the family and they had more time…or do I just have a better memory for such tales. Whatever the reason, I was a keen listener when they would tell me these tales and I am so glad of that now. All of the rich history of my family would be lost forever otherwise.

One of the stories I recounted to them was of our Mother's second pregnancy. Bill, the first-born, was not quite one year old when Mom got pregnant again. They were living in an old rented "salt-box" house in an area known as The Dock, situated on the coastal road linking Clarke's Beach with upper Bareneed. Dad was working in St. John's doing some carpentry work on the naval base the Americans were building. It wasn't much of a life for a young married couple. They hardly saw each other. The train ride from St. John's to Clarke's Beach was several hours long and cost money, which was in short supply. So, Mom lived in The Dock, about 2 miles down the road from her parents house and looked after herself and little Billy. Her second pregnancy was not easy going in the early months. She suffered a lot of morning sickness and being so thin as she was in those years, she didn't have any spare weight to lose. It had been a hard winter with so much snow she could not even get down the road to visit her Mother very often. Her Father was working "away" as well; on Bell Island in the iron ore mines.

Finally early spring came and one fine day, Mom dressed up Billy and herself and picked her way gingerly down the road to the homestead for a visit. There were patches of glare ice so it took her a while but she enjoyed the fresh air after being cooped up for so long. Well, the ladies enjoyed their visit so much that evening had fallen before they knew it. Grandma still had three of her sons living at home at the time. The one boy was about eighteen years old and he had a date that night but his Mother asked him to hitch up the sleigh to the horse and run mom and Billy home. He was not very pleased to be diverted from his plans.

Well, when you're in a rush there are certain shortcuts that can be taken. Unfortunately, some of them can be very unsafe. And so it was with this situation. The lad harnessed the horse to the sleigh without putting the horse properly into the tackle. The strap that goes behind the horses' rump for it to "sit back" into when going downhill was not attached. Off they set down the slippery, wintry road and the first steep hill they went down, the sleigh starting sliding into the back of the horse's legs and rump and made it start running. Of course, this didn't go on for long before the horse had built up more speed than it could deal with and down over the bank at the edge of the road they went. Billy had been pitched out into a snow drift and thought it was great fun, Mom's brother was shaken up but unharmed, the horse was fine, but the sleigh had landed on top of Mom and she had taken a terrible blow to her abdomen.

Her brother got her home and into bed and went back to fetch his Mother who sat by her bedside all night. At dawn, Mom was having increasing pain and had started bleeding. The doctor was called and he predicted that delivery of the infant was imminent and that Mom was in serious condition with some internal injuries. He advised they send for my Father to come home immediately. Well, a telegraph was sent and Dad took the first train out to Clarke's Beach. It took him until evening to finally get to his wife's side and what he encountered frightened him half to death. Mom was pale from blood loss, barely conscious and groaning in pain. So many young women died in child birth back then that Dad thought for sure he was going to lose his young wife.

Billy had been shipped off down to Grandma's to stay for a while. Of course, Billy was The King at Grandma's house so he didn't mind at all.

Finally, near the middle of the night, a scrawny little girl was brought into the world. The doctor got out his hand-held scales and slipped the wee mite on the pan…she weighed 2 pounds, wrapped in a receiving blanket. He laid her on the foot of the bed and told my father he didn't think she would see daylight and even if she did, Mom was too weak and sick herself to nurse her. He stuck his finger in her wee mouth and said she was so premature that she didn't even have the sense to suck. There was nothing that could be done to save her!

Dad was determined; there might not be much he could do to help his wife but he would do what he could for his infant girl. He wrapped her in warm blankets and kept her in the warming oven on top of the kitchen wood stove. He slept on the daybed across from the stove and tended to the child night and day…and he prayed.

He had heard that goat's milk was easier to digest than cow's milk so he went to a neighbour who kept goats and collected milk that he would scald and cool to feed to the child via an eye dropper, one drop at a time. He used his own pocket handkerchiefs as diapers and crooned and sung to her every chance he got. Dad always wore a plain gold signet ring on the middle finger of his right hand. He slipped the ring on the child's small arm like a bracelet. Her tender skin was almost transparent and he said she had no eyelashes at first. He would later say that her frailty scared him but his love of her was so overwhelming, he would do anything to help her survive.

After a few weeks of his tender care, she did develop a sucking response and then he could start feeding her goat's milk in a bottle. Meanwhile, Mom was under Dad's loving care too and was slowly regaining some strength. The doctor visited every few days and was astounded that either of them had survived.

Mom and Dad went on to have five more children themselves and to adopt another.

That wee baby grew into my oldest sister Sylvia and she just celebrated her sixty-sixth birthday! She went on to marry and have four strapping boys of her own.

All the rest of us kids always knew that there was a special place in Dad's heart for Sylvia and after Mom told me the story, I certainly understood why.

It is amazing what love and trust in God can accomplish!

Cheers,
Newfie June


© Newfie June




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