baby because I had so much milk I used to chuck the stuff down the sink although I was
feeding my baby. People talk now about how good these cans of food are. They start ramming them down the baby’s neck when they’re two months old and they say how much healthier babies
are for it. I had so much milk that I fed my first child until he was eleven months old and he never had anything else. It was so cheap and we were hard up, and it was clean and hygienic. I never
had to bother about washing out bottles and as I say I had so much of it I often wished I knew another baby that I could have given it to. I didn’t realize then that you could go up to a
hospital with it and that they’re always glad to accept it.
But this woman got paid for it. I used to wonder, did her own baby suffer? If somebody had to go short it obviously wasn’t going to be the baby that she was being paid to feed. She only
came for a month though – after that the baby was put on to one of these patent foods.
But during those weeks what with two nurses and an under-nurse and a wet nurse, absolute pandemonium reigned. I didn’t help matters because one day I had to tell our nurse that the wet
nurse had arrived.
So I said, ‘Daisy’s here.’
She said, ‘Daisy?’
I said, ‘Yes, you know, Daisy the cow, who comes to feed the baby.’
Talk about lese-majesty. She drew herself up to her full height. ‘How dare you,’ she said. ‘Associating the sacred rights of motherhood with being a cow. It’s nothing
like being a cow at all. It’s giving life to someone.’
She went on like that for about five minutes. I went down to the kitchen and told the cook, looking for sympathy.
‘Serves you bloody well right,’ she said.
I suppose it did.
Nowadays, as I say, mothers don’t like feeding their babies. They think there’s something distasteful about it. It’s these damned little cans of food – that’s what
it is. If they had to do what we had to – put stuff through the sieve and mash it all up once we put the baby on solids, they’d feed them. I used to sigh for the days when I fed them
myself and had no bother at all.
Then of course well-to-do ladies didn’t feed their babies because it ruined their figures. It spoiled the shape of their bosoms. Perhaps it doesn’t nowadays because of the bras
they’ve invented. But I really don’t believe that anyone can feed a baby, not for any length of time, and still have the same-shaped breasts afterwards.
And again at that time no well-to-do lady who went to a lot of social functions was going to be pestered with having to feed her baby every three to four hours. Why did they pay out money for
nurses and under-nurses if they were going to be tied to the baby themselves?
The whole paraphernalia of their way of having a baby simply amazed me and Gladys. Her mother had had swarms of kids. Madam stayed in bed a whole fortnight. A fortnight! My mother used to stay
in six days and Gladys said her mother used only to stay three days. Who was going to look after the other mob? Her mum used to come down and start scrubbing and it never did her any harm. And then
she fed the babies as well as doing all this work in the house.
They say once you start work you can’t feed the babies, but it’s all my eye and Betty Martin. Of course you can – especially if you drink a lot of beer like Gladys’s mum
did. And I don’t blame her for drinking it either. If I was living in Stepney and had had swarms of kids I would be drinking beer all the time too.
Having a working-class baby was a very casual thing. You never made many preparations beforehand. Naturally you got a few clothes in for it and the midwife would call some time near the date.
Nowadays too you get all this talk about new psychological methods and a husband being in the room at the time of birth because it’s good for him – it gives him a kind of feeling of
oneness with the mother and baby. They talk this
feeding my baby. People talk now about how good these cans of food are. They start ramming them down the baby’s neck when they’re two months old and they say how much healthier babies
are for it. I had so much milk that I fed my first child until he was eleven months old and he never had anything else. It was so cheap and we were hard up, and it was clean and hygienic. I never
had to bother about washing out bottles and as I say I had so much of it I often wished I knew another baby that I could have given it to. I didn’t realize then that you could go up to a
hospital with it and that they’re always glad to accept it.
But this woman got paid for it. I used to wonder, did her own baby suffer? If somebody had to go short it obviously wasn’t going to be the baby that she was being paid to feed. She only
came for a month though – after that the baby was put on to one of these patent foods.
But during those weeks what with two nurses and an under-nurse and a wet nurse, absolute pandemonium reigned. I didn’t help matters because one day I had to tell our nurse that the wet
nurse had arrived.
So I said, ‘Daisy’s here.’
She said, ‘Daisy?’
I said, ‘Yes, you know, Daisy the cow, who comes to feed the baby.’
Talk about lese-majesty. She drew herself up to her full height. ‘How dare you,’ she said. ‘Associating the sacred rights of motherhood with being a cow. It’s nothing
like being a cow at all. It’s giving life to someone.’
She went on like that for about five minutes. I went down to the kitchen and told the cook, looking for sympathy.
‘Serves you bloody well right,’ she said.
I suppose it did.
Nowadays, as I say, mothers don’t like feeding their babies. They think there’s something distasteful about it. It’s these damned little cans of food – that’s what
it is. If they had to do what we had to – put stuff through the sieve and mash it all up once we put the baby on solids, they’d feed them. I used to sigh for the days when I fed them
myself and had no bother at all.
Then of course well-to-do ladies didn’t feed their babies because it ruined their figures. It spoiled the shape of their bosoms. Perhaps it doesn’t nowadays because of the bras
they’ve invented. But I really don’t believe that anyone can feed a baby, not for any length of time, and still have the same-shaped breasts afterwards.
And again at that time no well-to-do lady who went to a lot of social functions was going to be pestered with having to feed her baby every three to four hours. Why did they pay out money for
nurses and under-nurses if they were going to be tied to the baby themselves?
The whole paraphernalia of their way of having a baby simply amazed me and Gladys. Her mother had had swarms of kids. Madam stayed in bed a whole fortnight. A fortnight! My mother used to stay
in six days and Gladys said her mother used only to stay three days. Who was going to look after the other mob? Her mum used to come down and start scrubbing and it never did her any harm. And then
she fed the babies as well as doing all this work in the house.
They say once you start work you can’t feed the babies, but it’s all my eye and Betty Martin. Of course you can – especially if you drink a lot of beer like Gladys’s mum
did. And I don’t blame her for drinking it either. If I was living in Stepney and had had swarms of kids I would be drinking beer all the time too.
Having a working-class baby was a very casual thing. You never made many preparations beforehand. Naturally you got a few clothes in for it and the midwife would call some time near the date.
Nowadays too you get all this talk about new psychological methods and a husband being in the room at the time of birth because it’s good for him – it gives him a kind of feeling of
oneness with the mother and baby. They talk this
Similar Books
