Read The Midwife Trilogy Online
Authors: Jennifer Worth
Tags: #General, #Health & Fitness, #Pregnancy & Childbirth, #Biography & Autobiography, #History, #Europe, #Great Britain, #Medical, #Gynecology & Obstetrics
Table of Contents
THE BOTTOM DROPPED OUT OF PIGS
APPENDIX - On the difficulties of writing the Cockney dialect
Praise for
The Midwife
“Worth is indeed a natural storyteller—in the best sense of the term, with apparent artlessness in fact concealing high art—and her detailed account of being a midwife in London’s East End is gripping, moving, and convincing from beginning to end. . . . [
The Midwife
] is also a powerful evocation of a long-gone world . . . and in Worth it has surely found one of its best chroniclers.”
—David Kynaston, Literary Review
“A chilling insight into life for the average mother [in the 1950s].”
—Sunday Express
“Worth is a stylish and dramatic writer.”
—Matthew Parris, Spectator
“This delightful memoir brings to vivid life London’s East End . . . full of humor . . . Worth’s talent shines from every page.”
—Sainsbury’s Magazine
“In her marvelous new book . . . there are desperately sad stories here, but tales of great hope too. Of ordinary people living, giving birth and building their families despite enormous hardship and poor sanitation. And of midwives delivering superb care in the toughest conditions.”
—East End Life
“Nobody who reads [
The Midwife
] will ever forget it.”
—The Woman Writer
“The Docklands in London’s East End in the 1950s seems more like the nineteenth century than fifty years ago.”
—Good Book Guide
“Sheer magic.”
—The Lady
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First published in Great Britain by Merton Books 2002
Published by Phoenix, an imprint of Orion Books Ltd. 2008
This edition published in Penguin Books 2009
Copyright © Jennifer Worth, 2002
All rights reserved
This is a work of nonfiction, and the events it recounts are true. However, certain
names and identifying characteristics of some of the people who appear in its pages
have been changed. The views expressed in this book are the author’s.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING IN PUBLICATION DATA
Worth, Jennifer, 1935-
The midwife : a memoir of birth, joy, and
hard times / Jennifer Worth ; clinical editor, Terri Coates.
p. cm.
Rev. ed. of: Call the midwife / by Jennifer Worth. Twickenham : Merton, 2002.
Includes bibliographical references.
eISBN : 978-1-101-10577-1
1. Worth, Jennifer, 1935- 2. Midwives—England—London—Biography.
I. Coates, Terri. II. Worth, Jennifer, 1935- Call the midwife. III. Title.
[DNLM: 1. Worth, Jennifer, 1935- 2. Nurse Midwives—London—Personal Narratives.
3. Home Childbirth—history—London. 4. Poverty Areas—London. WZ 100 W932m 2009]
RG950.W675 2009
618.2—dc22 2008054663
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means
without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only
authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy
of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is dedicated to Philip, my dear husband
The history of ‘Mary’ is also dedicated to the memory of Father Joseph Williamson and Daphne Jones
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
All nurses and midwives, many long since dead, with whom I worked half a century ago
Terri Coates, who fired my memories
Canon Tony Williamson, President of The Wellclose Trust
Elizabeth Fairbairn for her encouragement
Pat Schooling, who had courage to go for original publication
Naomi Stevens, for all her help with the Cockney dialect
Suzannah Hart, Jenny Whitefield, Dolores Cook, Peggy Sayer,
Betty Howney, Rita Perry
All who typed, read and advised
Tower Hamlets Local History Library and Archives
The Curator, Island History Trust, E14
The Archivist, The Museum in Dockland, E14
The Librarian, Simmons Aerofilms
PREFACE
In January 1998, the
Midwives Journal
published an article by Terri Coates entitled “Impressions of a Midwife in Literature”. After careful research right across European and English-language writing, Terri was forced to conclude that midwives are virtually non-existent in literature.
Why, in heaven’s name? Fictional doctors grace the pages of books in droves, scattering pearls of wisdom as they pass. Nurses, good and bad, are by no means absent. But midwives? Whoever heard of a midwife as a literary heroine? Yet midwifery is the very stuff of drama. Every child is conceived either in love or lust, is born in pain, followed by joy or sometimes remorse. A midwife is in the thick of it, she sees it all. Why then does she remain a shadowy figure, hidden behind the delivery room door?
Terri Coates finished her article with a lament for the neglect of such an important profession. I read her words, accepted the challenge, and took up my pen.
INTRODUCTION
Nonnatus House was situated in the heart of the London Docklands. The practice covered Stepney, Limehouse, Millwall, the Isle of Dogs, Cubitt Town, Poplar, Bow, Mile End and Whitechapel. The area was densely populated and most families had lived there for generations, often not moving more than a street or two away from their birthplace. Family life was lived at close quarters and children were brought up by a widely extended family of aunts, grandparents, cousins and older siblings, all living within a few houses, or at the most, streets of each other. Children would run in and out of each other’s homes all the time and when I lived and worked there, I cannot remember a door ever being locked, except at night.
Children were everywhere, and the streets were their playgrounds. In the 1950s there were no cars in the back streets, because no one had a car, so it was perfectly safe to play there. There was heavy industrial traffic on the main roads, particularly those leading to and from the docks, but the little streets were traffic-free.
The bomb sites were the adventure playgrounds. They were numerous, a terrible reminder of the war and the intense bombing of the Docklands only ten years before. Great chunks had been cut out of the terraces, each encompassing perhaps two or three streets. The area would be roughly boarded off, partly hiding a wasteland of rubble with bits of building half standing, half fallen. Perhaps a notice stating DANGER - KEEP OUT would be nailed up somewhere, but this was like a red rag to a bull to any lively lad over the age of about six or seven, and every bomb site had secret entries where the boarding was carefully removed, allowing a small body to squeeze through. Officially no one was allowed in, but everyone, including the police, seemed to turn a blind eye.