Quaint Times

I'm reminiscing about the times in my early childhood when I spent nights in Grandma's house and she was called to go to a neighbor's home to bring a child into the world. Grandma was the only midwife in that rural part of the country for many miles around. Sometimes two or more families would be needing her services in the same day. Getting around was no easy task. Mule and wagon was the mode of transportation.

One particular day Grandma grabbed her trusty black bag with one hand and she grabbed my hand with her other hand. Off we went to the home of the expectant mother. When we finally arrived, Grandma rushed in the room with the mother. She asked me to play with the other children. Just as we were really getting into the game of hide and seek, we heard a small squeaking sound. Grandma stuck her head out the bedroom door and announced that a little girl had made her way into this world. Her sisters and brothers wanted to see her right away, but Grandma said that she and the Mother wasn't finished yet. After about fifteen minutes more, we heard more squealing; another little girl had burst upon the scene.

Twins! They seemed to be healthy enough. This being the Mom's sixth and seventh children, respectively, she knew how to care for herself to ensure the health and wellbeing of her babies.

My Grandma was thrilled beyond herself. She did not anticipate twins.Identical ones, at that. The only noticeable difference was the second one seemed to have a stronger pair of lungs. She really could put up some wailing!

Grandma asked me to help her to tidy up a bit; then we were on our way home. Grandma said her day was very productive and sucessful. She had to return to that family' home later in the week to record the names for the birth record. The mother wanted to talk things over with her husband before names were chosen.