Back in 1964 when I was expecting Fiona my mother constantly repeated the story of my own birth. “You’ll have no trouble having this baby,” she would remark. “You were born on the tabletop in a snowstorm, one minute you weren’t there and the next you were.” I had heard the story many times before. In 1943 I was born in England, on the table top in a little house at No.4 Hadlow road Tonbridge, Kent. The same table which was also known as the ‘Morrison Shelter’ under which we hid from German bombs as they detonated overhead. The house was opposite the Cherry Orchard where the doodlebug exploded and caused my Mum to flee with my brother and me to Cornwall. (See ‘icecreams Page 72/73)
The midwife arrived to see my mother on the back of her boyfriend’s motorbike. “I’m off to the pictures,” she stated. “I don’t want you to be calling me out, so I thought I’d stop by and check you over. Now, hop up on the table and I’ll take a look.” By the time my mother was on the table my head was making an appearance. Needless to say it was a short easy delivery and afterwards the nurse went to the pictures. Job done!
Now, some twenty-one years later the doctor was cautioning me that my blood pressure was too high and things weren’t going to plan. Mum had done such a good job of indoctrination that the idea there was anything to be really concerned about never occurred to me. I was sent home on medication which made little difference and at thirty six weeks I was hospitalized with pre-eclampsia.
My ward at the Rosebud Hospital was right outside the nurse’s station and I overheard my mother’s subdued voice as she questioned the baby’s chances. The sister on duty responded bluntly. “Don’t worry about the baby, it will be fine, it’s your daughter we are concerned about, she may not come through this.” I was not even in the slightest bit apprehensive. It was as if I was overhearing a conversation relating to someone else. I can only assume that my mother’s constant positive statements had been so thorough that I paid no attention to the nurse’s words.
Even today this is such a good reminder that I should always speak words of faith, not words of fear. I always want to be an encourager and not a down-putter. Paul tells us in 1 Thessalonians 5:11 “So encourage each other to build each other up.” (Living Bible) Sounds good to me!