'Call the Midwife'

A friend of mine recently lent me the BBC series 'Call the midwife', which I have been watching since just after Christmas.  She is shocked that I have already managed to work my way through all 3 seasons in such a short space of time, but I must say in my defense, it has been done whilst I have been doing craft work and making presents for people, so I have actually been really busy at the same time.

I have been enthralled, and if you do not know the series, it is based on the memoirs of Jennifer Worth - a midwife who worked in Poplar, in the east end of London, during the 1950's.  Never having been to the east end of London myself, it is interesting to see how it was then and the situations of many of the inhabitants.  Many of the men were unemployed and the majority of the rest worked on the docks.  Not many episodes were watched without a lump in my throat or a tear in my eye as I felt a sadness for those portrayed in the stories told.  

I felt nostalgia for a time in my life, when seeing many of the buildings, as I was reminded of  Regina Road in Chelmsford which was situated below the railway line that ran along the far end of the road.  It was here that I and my siblings spent many weekends staying with my granny and granddad, creating many happy memories together, listening to war stories of a time when my mum and aunt grew up there.

There was however one episode in particular that left me living the situation myself.  It was episode 2 of season three, and as with all other episodes there were a number of cases involving different families intertwined together.  In this episode there was a young couple who had both a newborn and a toddler.  Both were chesty, failing to gain weight and generally sickly.  The poor parents were exhausted, neither getting much rest.  The mum was supplementing the newborn with water as it was always griping and hungry.  As I said, I lived the episode as it brought back so many of my own memories.  I knew where the story was going without being told...I remember so clearly how tired I was before Mark became so ill that he was hospitalized.  I fed him myself and at times had blisters from the continuous sucking, but I persevered just as the mum did in 'Call the Midwife'.  Having had Matthew before Mark I didn't dare want to think that there was something wrong with Mark, but I knew that things were not the same.  He also battled to pick up weight, even though I was feeding him all the time.  I started him on some solid foods at about 6 weeks, not a lot, just a teaspoon or so at a time, but at least it kept him quiet for a while.  I had him back and forth at our GP almost every week, but it wasn't until he was a year old and I went to the clinic for him to receive his injections that the sister in charge asked me when last I took him to see my doctor as she could see there was something wrong with him.  Watching, brought back all these memories...the way the parents felt in the episode were the same for Johan and I, not knowing but also not wanting to know.  I went through the same 'blame ' game after diagnosis, wondering if it was something I had done, or something I had eaten when carrying him.  When the paediatrician called me in to deliver the results of his diagnosis, I heard nothing of what he said, other than that he would never reach adulthood and the average age was 14.  Whatever else was told to me on that morning went in one ear and out the other.  It was only later after the genetic sister paid us house calls for counselling, did I slowly begin to understand.  That was 27 years ago now, almost 30 years after when the episode was set.  I am impressed I must say, by the realistic way the story was told - someone definitely did their homework to bring it to life the way that they did.  Of course, only those who have lived through the diagnosis of their own children, will truly understand, but let me tell you that what you see is almost the real thing, it is indeed a very good portrayal...