Deborah Michelle Hancock/Hood
Without Prejudice
She was beautiful this baby of mine, perfect in every way. Born to me at at 18 and 3 months. And I bacame devoted to her well being. Bob picked me up from hospital and dropped me home to our flat in Murrumbeena and went back to work. In the flat all alone I regarded this tiny baby in a basket and thought,
"Oh my God, she's my responsibilty for the rest of her life" and I cried, shocked at the enormity of the task.
I fed her and changed her and burped her and she cried, mostly. My nerves passing on to her. She settled and just before George and Bob came home from work. I found there washing, hidden in a cupboard and cried. We didn't have a washing machine and the thought of all that back breaking work of washing it in the bath, overwhelmed me, for a moment. So by the time the "boys" arrived home I was bawling, the baby was bawling and it was chaos. Bob grabbed up the baby and walked off with her and George gave me tea and sympathy.
After 3 nights of her in our tiny bedroom I put her bassinet just outside the door. So I could hear her if she cried but wasn't lying awake in the dark listening to her every breath, squeak. I slept better and so did she and gradually I came to know her, this first baby of mine. She was delightful, calm, serene and happy. I clutched her to me and was quite jealous if others picked her up. I was her Mummy, and her happiness and life belonged to me. only me.
We holidayed at the farm that Christmas. It was so hot Bob's Mum and I tied sheets over Debbies bassinet and played the fan across them. Bob's mum loved her and we sat many a hot afternoon, she at the sewing machine, me beside the baby, just watching. And Gwen, my very excellent Mother In Law gave me advice, old fashioned country advice for the raising of a baby. She herself was a legend in pregnancy, terribly nauseated every pregnancy times 6 but still carting full milk cans till the last day. I was in awe of her and respected her and she remains one of my favourite people to this day.
I always think of her as the Mother in Law of Ruth from the bible.
"And nothing parts you and me." (Ruth 1:16–17 NKJV)
Ruth was a devoted Daughter In Law and so was I. I loved Gwen and Tiny for making me so welcome in their family. Kerrie too and Ivan. I loved that Gwen taught me to cook and wash dishes with a certain washing up liquid that didn't harm the water. She was the original recycler, she recycled everything out of necessity. It was hard work on a farm, hard back breaking work, most of the time. The men Bob and Tiny toiled outside in the fierce heat and we took them morning tea and it was an art in itself. She had been a housekeeper when a young girl and looked after an old man, cooking his meals and doing his housekeeping.
The man was kindly and she to him and she honed her craft of housekeeping of which she had many. She sewed and knitted and cooked and helped Tiny with the milking, she never ever stopped working and I was in awe for her. She said it like it was, was down to earth but there was another part to her, the sensitive, shy part, the educated, her English background, just like me. She was handsome as a woman although she would have poo pooed that idea
To Be continued
She was beautiful this baby of mine, perfect in every way. Born to me at at 18 and 3 months. And I bacame devoted to her well being. Bob picked me up from hospital and dropped me home to our flat in Murrumbeena and went back to work. In the flat all alone I regarded this tiny baby in a basket and thought,
"Oh my God, she's my responsibilty for the rest of her life" and I cried, shocked at the enormity of the task.
I fed her and changed her and burped her and she cried, mostly. My nerves passing on to her. She settled and just before George and Bob came home from work. I found there washing, hidden in a cupboard and cried. We didn't have a washing machine and the thought of all that back breaking work of washing it in the bath, overwhelmed me, for a moment. So by the time the "boys" arrived home I was bawling, the baby was bawling and it was chaos. Bob grabbed up the baby and walked off with her and George gave me tea and sympathy.
After 3 nights of her in our tiny bedroom I put her bassinet just outside the door. So I could hear her if she cried but wasn't lying awake in the dark listening to her every breath, squeak. I slept better and so did she and gradually I came to know her, this first baby of mine. She was delightful, calm, serene and happy. I clutched her to me and was quite jealous if others picked her up. I was her Mummy, and her happiness and life belonged to me. only me.
We holidayed at the farm that Christmas. It was so hot Bob's Mum and I tied sheets over Debbies bassinet and played the fan across them. Bob's mum loved her and we sat many a hot afternoon, she at the sewing machine, me beside the baby, just watching. And Gwen, my very excellent Mother In Law gave me advice, old fashioned country advice for the raising of a baby. She herself was a legend in pregnancy, terribly nauseated every pregnancy times 6 but still carting full milk cans till the last day. I was in awe of her and respected her and she remains one of my favourite people to this day.
I always think of her as the Mother in Law of Ruth from the bible.
"And nothing parts you and me." (Ruth 1:16–17 NKJV)
Ruth was a devoted Daughter In Law and so was I. I loved Gwen and Tiny for making me so welcome in their family. Kerrie too and Ivan. I loved that Gwen taught me to cook and wash dishes with a certain washing up liquid that didn't harm the water. She was the original recycler, she recycled everything out of necessity. It was hard work on a farm, hard back breaking work, most of the time. The men Bob and Tiny toiled outside in the fierce heat and we took them morning tea and it was an art in itself. She had been a housekeeper when a young girl and looked after an old man, cooking his meals and doing his housekeeping.
The man was kindly and she to him and she honed her craft of housekeeping of which she had many. She sewed and knitted and cooked and helped Tiny with the milking, she never ever stopped working and I was in awe for her. She said it like it was, was down to earth but there was another part to her, the sensitive, shy part, the educated, her English background, just like me. She was handsome as a woman although she would have poo pooed that idea
To Be continued
