57. Dreadful Sufferings.
In my case all my pregnancy times have been rather bad. Had I been less fortunate in finding a good husband, and one who was able to keep at home, one thinks, I should never have been living to-day. I have cost pounds and pounds besides the care and anxiety in bringing my two into the world. My first was a miscarriage owing to a fall while hanging a picture. Was in bed over a fortnight, and almost drained bloodless. My second, a fine bouncing girl—unfortunately too fine. I had to be stitched twice, the first at confinement, the second three weeks later, caused by the agony of a gathered breast. I was eight weeks ill at that time. My third, I could scarcely walk about for six weeks before confinement owing to strain on weak parts, and only short of eighteen months of previous confinement. I had to be stitched again, but managed to ward off the breast trouble to a great extent; incapable for five weeks. My last was the worst; we had removed away to a strange place, and I happened to get a woman who did not know her work. I was very ill at the time, but everything was favourable until the third day I developed childbed fever. I went blind, sometimes unconscious, my breasts in slings, so large I could not see over the top, inflammation of the bowels, and blood-poisoning; I was almost beyond hope, and was seriously ill three weeks. Then took a turn for the better. We had to get a thoroughly efficient person in, the cost of which was £1 per week for seven weeks, and, God bless her, she deserved every farthing she got, although it was hard. We had to pay again for other housework to be done. I feel I owe much of my recovery to her. My husband was seriously reduced in means, but he would have sold anything to do good. When I got sufficiently well I had to go to hospital; was a patient there a month, was fetched home, carried to bed, and stayed there six weeks, owing to abscesses from the stitching being delayed so long and bad condition of my system. I am not a strong person now, but I am now in my forty-sixth year, and seem to be improving in a good many respects.
The highest wage my husband earned was 45s., the lowest, and at the worst time, being £1—just the amount the nurse required, besides all else—washing, cooking food, and everything a home needs.
Wages 20s. to 45s.; three children, one miscarriage.