The Free Spirit

Poplar Girl, 1960 (Part Two)

"And on the way down, she met a turtle dove, said 'Let's go rockin' in the cradle of love'..."

Winter turned into spring in late March and we started feeling it in Poplar. I was nearly nine months pregnant at that point, constantly feeling my baby kicking the inside of my uterine wall and making its presence known. When I was discharged from the maternity home, I stayed in mine and Don's Poplar home so I could stay on the books of Nonnatus House with my father and brothers occasionally visiting. I went to my parents' home as well to visit my mother, but found my mother was very troubled mentally. "We do all right," my father said to me. "She just hasn't been herself, and I don't know if she ever will be again."

"Have you tried bringing her to the London? Maybe there's something they could do," I replied. "Speaking from experience, Distaval does wonders for the mind."

"Your mother won't take medications, hen, and you know this. She's a hard-headed woman. Always has been, always will be. But I fear she's reaching her end," my father explained.

"But she's so young," I said in response. "You don't think it's a cancer, do you?"

"I don't know. She won't let me take her to a doctor and find out."

"Maybe if I-"

"Don't bother. She won't listen to you no more than she'll listen to me. She thinks you abandoned us. I've tried to explain to her that you went out to start your own life, that you shouldn't have to be tied down by your parents, but she won't listen."

"I'm almost certain that Jeremy will hate me forever when she passes... He's on her side, he's convinced I abandoned the family."

"Don't take it to heart, hen... Your mother and brother will come around. Once Jeremy meets a woman and falls in love, he'll understand, and your mother... Well, I don't know if she'll ever understand." She never would, unfortunately. By the end of March, I was getting restless, so I'd walk to Nonnatus House for some tea with Sister Monica Joan and whoever else was there.

"You shouldn't be walking this far," Patsy had told me when I walked over one warm afternoon.

"I'm so antsy, I can't help it," I replied. "I heard a rumour you lot are getting a new nurse soon, that's exciting."

"After Jenny left, we'll need her," Patsy replied, bringing a cigarette to her lips and taking a drag.

"And where did Jenny go again? I thought she loved midwifery!"

"Well, you know Jenny. She left midwifery to pursue hospice care. She said it feels better to care for a man through death than to bring a baby into the world."

"They have different rewards, but I wouldn't say it feels more rewarding. You're a strong nurse if you can shepherd the living into death. I couldn't do it. It's already so hard to deliver a stillborn baby," I replied as I sipped from my tea. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back and I sat forward as Patsy jumped up.

"Are you all right? Is it Baby?" she asked me, alarmed.

"Likely Just Braxton Hicks contractions," I replied, standing up. Braxton Hicks contractions were basically practice contractions, or the uterus contracting and getting ready for the big event. "I am nearing my ninth month, already well into my third trimester and could pop any day."

"Maybe I should check you, just to see," Patsy said cautiously, but I waved her off.

"I'm not having this baby until my husband comes back, which will be on the first of April. It's only a couple of days. I don't care when the baby comes as long as it's after the first of April," I told her.