What Dreams are made of : by Edna McCabe. Third Instalment -------------------------------------- Our little girl was born on 13th. December 1947 in a semi-private ward in Holles Street Hospital, Dublin. We had hoped shed wait until our first anniversary. After the birth we were all sitting up nursing our babies when a nurse said, Theres a fellow out in the corridor waiting to get in. If he thinks hell get in before visiting time, hes making a big mistake. Well I said to the rest of the women in the ward, my fellow is in Athlone. But who walked in, in full uniform, but Martin, and of course I burst out crying. It was just too much. There he was hugging us both. He had managed to swap duties with another soldier and as a result he had come to Dublin on army business. By the way, all that sweat and moaning you see on TV is exaggerated. Though Graces birth was slow, the anticipation of having my first baby made it all worthwhile. As soon as all the fuss of going home to my mother, sister, brothers, and friends was over, Martin took us back to our humble abode. He had bought the cot and my mother and Grace came to see us the following week and bought us the pram. The two items were purchase in Foys of Church Street. (Very many years later we were to meet Geoff Foy son of the owner, who one day would be a great friend to my third child Valerie. That is another story.) I remember my mother buying me two soothers, to keep the baby quiet when we were going back to Athlone. Martin had never seen such things in his house and I wasnt going to use them as I was breastfeeding. Michael Kavanagh, our friend, was Graces godfather and came to see her with a present of a beautiful blue pram rug. I hadnt the heart to tell him it should be pink for a girl. I asked Martin would he have liked a boy and he said he didnt care once the baby was all right. That never changed. Life went on and I became obsessed with the baby, perhaps because I had never even held a baby before. Martin on the other hand had experience of handling babies as he had helped his mother to look after his younger brothers and sisters. About this time I started sleepwalking and Martin would wake to find me sitting on the floor beside the cot holding the babys hand or walking around the room looking for her, even though she was asleep in the cot. He even found me looking up the chimney at one stage. In the end he locked the bedroom door, as he was afraid Id fall down those crooked stairs. When I continued walking around the room he pushed the bed against the wall and made me slept on the inside. Hed fall asleep with his arm around me and that was something that lasted forever. Even in later years if I moved in the night, his hand would touch mine and hed say, Are you all right Edna. I have to tell you about that first bed. When Martin pushed it against the wall he discovered it had no spring, only wooden boards with the mattress on top. To this day it was the most comfortable bed we ever had. When we bought our first bed with its lovely interior sprung mattress, we laughed all night because we couldnt sleep; we wished we were back on Mrs. Kellys wooden bed. Grace was a model baby. She slept night and day, never cried and was happy with her four-hour feeds. Indeed, there was a man in the flat above us who said he never knew we had a baby until he saw her walking. I used to blow gently on her face to wake her. I thought shed die if I didnt feed her on time. Mrs. Melvin a pharmacist in chemist shop near us became my friend in need. Id push the pram up the hill to her whenever I was worried, (which was nearly always). At this stage of our lives we got into the habit of going for walks in the daytime and staying in at night. At weekends we would go to the bog or go house hunting; so we got to know Athlone really well. Houses were very scarce and expensive, so Martin put our names down for a council house. Food was rationed because it was the war years and we used to buy two ounces of tea and two ounces of sugar at a time. Martin used to tell them he married me for my sugar ration. Soap was also very scarce, so I used to collect ends of toilet soap and put them in a jar. They were great for washing the babys nappies, which were made of cloth in those days. We couldnt get milk but Mrs. Kelly, our landlady, got a pint for us every day from a milkman who came with his horse and cart. Shed just take a little drop for her tea. In return wed give her the odd bucket of turf, which Martin used to cut himself. We also got milk from two friends of Martins, Mary Neville and Mary Kelly. The two Marys kept in touch with us when we all got our own houses. The next thing the council were building more houses so we decided wed move to an unfurnished flat and get some furniture. We wanted to be ready if a house came up. So we moved around the corner to Connolly Street, and thats where I met Chrissie Reddin, Esther Sweeney and Mary Grehan. We all got houses in the same road later on. At least in Connolly Street things were a bit better than in High Street. We actually had water and a little toilet in an alcove on the landing, and a range to cook on! It was like heaven. When Martin was using the toilet hed say, Im going to yonder corner Martin polished all my blackened saucepans like new and I bought a cookery book. Mary Grehan from the upstairs flat taught me how to bake soda bread. She used to bring some down to us when shed bake, but in no time at all I became an expert. I could cook anything in that range, and I was always trying out new recipes. I think there was a bit of my dad in me as he was a splendid chef. Balancing the budget was always a problem and thats where we made our first mistake. We decided wed have to have the bare necessities, such as a table, chairs, and a bedroom suite. We bought them all on hire purchase and we seemed to be paying for them forever. After that we saved for anything we wanted. ------------------------------------------------------------------------
Posted on: Sat, 01 Nov 2014 16:58:08 +0000
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