Chapter 7
Our First Home
In the week that followed our wedding night, I was worried and scared of what was going to happen to me. Here I was, a new bride, soon to be a new mother, crammed in with my in-laws in a tiny bedroom without any space to call my own, and without any support. All I was getting from Mrs. Penny was advice on how to live my life. She talked down to me and made me feel very insecure. I figured things would change when she saw how well I could keep a house. After all, I’d been doing it since I was eleven years old.
I really didn’t know what Keith was up to in the first weeks following our wedding, but I would soon find out. Things happened so rapidly that it’s hard to get the details straight. I was not happy living with his parents. During this time Keith worked with a man on the military base whose name was Carl. One day Carl heard that Keith had recently married and asked Keith if he would be interested in buying his house. He was having trouble selling it.
“I have no money to buy your house,” Keith said.
“I don’t need the money right away. If I can sell it I’d move to the United States. I don’t trust anybody to pay me the required price,” he said. “And no one around here has enough money to pay for it. You seem like a nice, solid young man, Keith. How would you like to buy my house?”
“How much you want for it?” Keith asked.
“I want $1,800 and you could pay for the house on the instalment plan.”
At that stage of my life and during that time in Labrador, wives were treated like children, and I was no exception. I didn’t have a voice and anything Keith decided to do would have to be all right. I just accepted it as so! He came home from work one day and shocked me into reality.
“I bought a house today,” he said.
“Whaa? A house? Where?”
“On Grand Street, just down around the corner from here.”
“Oh Keith, I’m so happy! When can we move in?”
“Right away, because the owner is leaving tomorrow for the United States.”
A deal was reached. We would be the proud owners of our own little house — wow!
It was decided that we would pay him a certain amount per month. It would come with all the furniture, a generator for electricity, and Keith’s brother Graham gave us a yellow 1957 Ford pick-up truck. We were overwhelmed with gratitude! We moved into our little house on Grand Street just one week after we were married. I was elated. Our very own little house! I was so happy, and I couldn’t believe my luck; especially when I realized we were moving next door to my Aunt Winnie! I felt a little more secure, and that I was going to be alright. I might not feel so alone anymore.
In my own home, I could care for my baby my way, without my mother-in-law peeking over my shoulder. I could now cook my own meals, and be free from criticism. I wouldn’t have to worry about Keith’s parents following my every move and making me feel inadequate.
The house was sixteen by twenty-two feet, with three rooms: a bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and a living room. There was no bathroom, no running water, and no furnace. There was just a small wood and oil stove that didn’t work well. There wasn’t a water and sewer system on Grand Street yet. We did have electricity, but we didn’t have appliances. Nevertheless, I was pleased that we had our own space. There were a few sticks of furniture in the house: a chesterfield, a chair, and a coffee table. There was a bed in the bedroom and a chrome kitchen set with four chairs. I couldn’t help but think of my tiny playhouse on the hillside near the dormitory at Lockwood Boarding School. For whatever reason, I kept comparing everything to my childhood experiences.
I found a few lace doilies in a tiny closet in the house when we moved in. Things had happened so fast! Someone donated a crib. A few days later I was surprised once again when my sisters-in-law Dorcass and Margaret held a baby shower for me. I was in tears. No one had ever done so many wonderful things for me before. At the tender age of eighteen, I would have my very own baby, very own home, my very own husband who had a job and came home every day after work. And, I was extremely grateful for Aunt Winnie living next door. What more could a young bride ask for?
As soon as we settled into the house I set about preparing the baby’s room and thinking about what my baby would look like. Would it be a boy or girl? Would it be healthy? Would Keith know what to do? How to care for it? How to love? I took each tiny garment and caressed it gently, trying to visualize my baby in it. I separated the colours and arranged them in the crib. One would think that after all I’d been through, living with my family back home in Cartwright and having to care for six of my siblings at such a young age, that I would want to run from another such responsibility. But maybe it had the opposite effect on me. I longed for my baby to come. I was excited to be a new mother. I couldn’t wait!
In the meantime, Keith was trying to adjust to married life. When he came home each day after work, he seemed to be uncomfortable. I often wondered many times since then what he would have done if we hadn’t had to get married. Maybe I’ll never know for sure.
Chapter 8
First Born
Happy Valley was, to some degree, still a pioneer town when I arrived. The medical treatment facilities and conditions were fairly primitive in Happy Valley in 1961. There wasn’t a hospital yet, just a small clinic on Hamilton River Road. It was headed by a German nurse named Susan. Prior to Susan arriving, babies were born by midwives or by somebody who had the courage, strength, and knowledge of how to do such things.
We were just nicely getting settled in our new home, when a few days later I woke up with cramps. I don’t know why I didn’t think it could be the baby wanting to make its way into the world, but I didn’t. I never knew that hard cramps that lasted the whole night might be the birth of our baby. I didn’t wake Keith up, and suffered in silence all night long, thinking I’d eaten something.
Keith got up and prepared for work. I had to grit my teeth as the pain ripped through my body. Finally, as he was going out the door I said, “Keith, I have hard cramps in my belly. It could be something I ate!”
He stopped for just a few seconds before leaving and mumbled, “Maybe you should call Margaret.”
Margaret was his oldest sister, and I soon realized that she was my only support. I mustered up the courage to call her. There had been a telephone installed by the previous owner, so as soon as Keith went out the door, I picked up the phone and called my sister-in-law while in pure agony.
“Hi Margaret. Keith told me to call you.”
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“I have really bad cramps in my belly.” I gasped as another one hit so fiercely that I went to my knees. It was then that I realized what was actually happening. I was in labour!
A short time later, someone came by to bring me to a tiny plane waiting at the dock in Terrington Basin. I was immediately air lifted to the hospital at North West River, some thirty miles away. Through the agony of labour pains, I was admitted and wheeled to the birthing room. I was in labour for what seemed like hours, as the nurses and hospital staff kept me updated.
“How much longer, Miss?” I asked timidly. I felt uncomfortable with people in uniforms.
“Try to be patient, Josephine. It’ll be a while yet,” she replied.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, I was wheeled into the delivery room. The lights were blinding and I was in total agony. There was no epidural or any other type of medication to take at that time. I recalled being in St. Anthony Hospital in Newfoundland to have my tonsils removed and hearing blood-curdling screams from a distant room. In my curiosity I’d asked what was happening and was simply told, “Somebody’s having a baby.”
Now I could certainly understand why. Another thought came to me during my