I was chatting to my Dad today about when my Sis was born in 1960.

[FredWorms]

November 1960. My Mum was in labour, he dropped her at the maternity hospital at 10pm and was sent home.

He heard nothing all night (he said he found the dog a great comfort), had a call at 6am the next morning saying my Mum had given birth to a healthy girl, both fine, and he could come in and visit later. He turned up at 8.30am and was sent away "because it was feeding time". He bumped into the family doctor on the way out who sneaked him back in.

The next 2 babies were born at home on the family farm in 1962 and 1965. A very different experience, attitudes were changing very quickly, lovely midwives.

I'm just so shocked that he was sent away at 10pm and was sent away at 8.30am the next morning! Oh, and he was a dairy farmer and probably knew more about birth and lactation than the lot of them put together!

sent away again, should have said

My dad was sent away in 1970. My mum always says she was really glad as she didn't want him faffing around there and he'd probably have passed out. H was with me for all 3 of our children's births but tbh I didn't actually notice -he could have sneaked off and I wouldn't have realised.

I was born in 62 and delivered by my DF, not that he had much choice. I came 20 minutes after the first contraction.

My ex bf was born in the mid 60's. His dad was at the football, and his mum got a message through. At half time they announced "would MR x please ring the maternity unit as his wife has given birth to a baby boy"

I think the "feeding time" thing is interesting too. I suppose they got all the mothers to feed 4-hourly or something.

My great grandmother gave birth early, in the snow, in a tent in her garden while repairs were being done to the house. The rule then was that for 40 days the mother musn't be moved so there they stayed for 40 days!!

How times have changed eh? :)

When I was in labour with DD1 I was given an epidural and DH was sent home while I had a sleep as it was going to be a while. I woke up while he wasn't there and really wanted him back!

When I was having DD2 I didn't have an epidural but I was that high on G&A that at one point I thought that he had gone home :o. He hadn't he was just sitting on the chair, quietly beside the bed!

My dad has been watching call the midwife. It's apparently very accurate- he was brought up in that part of london in the 40s and 50s. Can't remember what he's doing tomorrow, but he can still remember going to get prescription orange juice from the midwives at the baby clinic at the end of his road

My brother was born in Amsterdam in 1979. They showed my mother her placenta and asked her if my dad would be taking it with him or if she wanted to keep it at the hospital until she left.... UGGH.

My mum was born at home- my Grandad was waiting downstairs, and the midwife came to tell him he had another daughter and gave him the placenta, wrapped in paper, to burn on the fire.

blessyou, that poor woman! Even without mangled nether regions you wouldn't want to spend 40 days in a tent in England. Bet the neighbours loved that the baby couldn't be taken somewhere more soundproof indoors

My dad was sent away too when I was born in 1968.

He was told it was feeding time too.

My mum asked me if I gave birth in stirrups and did they shave me. I mean wtaf ?

My sister was born at home a couple of years later and the midwife didnt arrive in time so he delivered her !!

I'm so glad things have moved on.

40 days in a tent ? thats nearly 6 weeks ?? < mind boggles >

My Aunt had her first 4 in hospital without her husband (DHs weren't allowed to be there), but by the time she had her 5th baby policies had changed and he was encouraged by the midwifes to stay. She was furious and sent him away saying he had no business to be there.

During my 4 labours my DH sat silently in the chair next to the hospital bed whilst I laboured and gave birth. This time I am likely to have to go it alone (due to childcare) and am rather worried I might need him, even though he didn't do anything before.

Its just what you are used to I suppose.

It was definately birth in a tent, winter, had to stay there...
Reading it back I am wondering if some of the detail is wrong ie 40 days ?? , so have facebooked my Grandma and will be back to confirm or correct! (She's awesome 87 and facebooks me every day)

I can remember going to the loo in the early hours when I was 12, my Dad was sitting on the stairs smoking. He said" won't be long now" and I said "what won't"

"mam is having the baby now" he said lighting another cigarette from the first one.

I asked if she was in hospital and was told no she's in the front room. This was in his own home, feet from where mam was and he wasn't allowed any closer to her than a drafty hallway.

This was December 1965 the day before mams birthday. She gave us all a sister

I was born in the early seventies. Dads not encouraged at the birth and mum stayed in hospital for ten days post birth. Big bag of salt at the side of the bath in the post natal ward and sleeping tablets with milky drink in the evening to ensure mum had a good nights sleep. Babies all in the nursery at night and if baby cried during visiting hour, they were whipped off to the nursery!!

My mum and MIL told me how when theirs babies were born the midwife took them away to the nursery, so they could rest (1970s). The babies were all bought out by the midwifes for the mums to feed every 4 hours and then taken away again, regardless of whether they were formula fed or breastfed. In fact my mum told me that the midwife gave me a bottle of formula when I was in the nursery, even though I was breastfed, because I wouldn't stop crying. She only knew this when her baby wasn't bought out for a feed with the others and the midwife was rather cross that she had had to feed me for my mother. When I continued to want feeding more often than every 4 hours my mum was told that her milk was obviously not good enough and she had to put me on formula.

DD1 was born at home, and I didn't like it when the midwife sent DH upstairs to get some baby clothes! I think she wanted to give him a job to do, but he was doing a very good job of just being there for me, even though it probably looked like I was ignoring him.

My Dad buried my afterbirth in one of the fields on the farm. I could point out the spot right now, 48 years later! I'd like to report lush growth or a magical tree or something but the foliage is unremarkable!

EarthMother I like that story, I can just picture your Dad smoking on the stairs!

Women must have been made of sterner stuff back then - I burst into tears when poor DP suggested that since he hadn't eaten for a day and a half, and nothing was happening, perhaps he could nip out and find himself some food!

(He stayed.... I calmed down later and let him escape :) )

I remember my mum telling me about her births in the 60's/70's. After her first birth the baby died, she said the hospital used a dirty needle on him and he got septicaemia and died a few days later. The hospital were very matter of fact about it, sent her home and didn't bother to tell the community midwives, so they turned up a few days later asking to see the baby. My dad answered the door and just said "it's dead" and the midwife didn't even look phased or embarrassed, she just said "Oh well, cheer up, these things happen!"

A year later she was due to give birth again. She'd gone into hospital to have my dsis, they didn't believe she was in proper labour, and put her in a ward to get some sleep. She told them the baby was coming but they didn't check, just gave her some kind of sleeping drug. She said as the nurses were leaving the ward the doors were still swinging closed and the baby was born in the bed. And then she just passed out. The next morning she woke up to her mother eating grapes next to the bed and asking if she thought it would be born today, and she had to tell her that she'd had it! She didn't even know if it was alive or dead, they'd taken the baby off to nursery, all while she was sleeping.

Third baby (the year after) was a home birth, can't blame her after the first two. She said the midwife held him up by the feet and said he looked like a skinned rabbit! My dad wasn't there, she said he was in the pub, she was happy with that though, she was a very private person and he was a pain in the arse at the best of times.

Several years later she had my db at home, reasonably uneventful apart from a few suspicious comments on his hair colour as it wasn't the same as my parents or the other kids. Thanks for that, midwife! Dad was downstairs watching Jason and the Argonauts, and when told the baby was out, said he'd be up straight after the end of the film.

I was born in the 80's, the only birth with my dad present. In hospital again as she was an older mother by then. She had given up smoking and I was a full 3lb heavier than the rest of them (Poor mum!) she said it was agony, made worse by my dad who after being absent for four births decided to come over all evangelical about it, and as she was trying to push, he was shoving her head forwards so she could "see" me being born, which I'm sure helped no end told you he was a pain in the arse.

A friend from work, who is in her 50's was told that her mum gave birth at home with the midwife in attendance happily chain smoking next to the bed. In those days doctors would go to a certain number of births to keep their hand in, as it were, and when the doctor turned up he demanded whisky and proceeded to sit at the end of the bed getting pissed and smoking away with the MW.

My DS was born in 1971. My DH was sent home and didn't know he had a son until the next day as we had no phone. I remember being left alone in labour and given a magazine with an article about dreadful hospitals where they left you alone in labour. DS was put in a nursery and brought out for feeds four hourly. I struggled to breastfeed and the Sister said "yes it is a very inadequate nipple". A few of my friends got slapped for making too much noise in labour. When my DD was born two years later in a different town I had joined (well helped to found) the local Women's Movement. I marched in ready to fight battles only be told that husbands were encouraged to be present at the birth. The babies were next to us and we were home after 48 hours.
Only thing I would say is that I have wonderful adult children, with whom I have a great relationship. I didn't manage to breastfeed either of them, but they are a healthy weight, fit and active.
It is only a very small part of the whole process, though I know it doesn't feel like it at the time!