Personality InterviewsInterview archiveJennifer Worth - reminding us of the unsung heroines Jennifer Worth - reminding us of the unsung heroines
By Jayne Warren - 02/07/2007
Reading Call The Midwife left me moved, inspired and eager to talk to this gentle but strong woman who delivered countless babies whilst working as a midwife in the Docklands, East London in the 1950s.
Married with two children and three grandchildren, Jennifer has been described as an author who "rivals James Herriot in her descriptions of childbirth in the Poplar tenements". I asked her about her writing, her experiences with an order of nuns, and the changes she has seen in our society since the Pill.
"Writing Call The Midwife - which is the first part of a trilogy - I discovered an ability I didn't realise I had. It all started because I was so angry that midwives have, and continue to have, such a low profile in literature - and in general. But why, in heaven's name? Midwifery is in itself the very stuff of drama and melodrama. Every child is conceived in love or lust, is born in pain and suffering followed by joy or tragedy and anguish. And a midwife attends at every birth, in the thick of it. So why does she remain a shadowy figure, hidden behind the delivery room door?
"Midwives are heroines, real heroines. Their responsibility, skill and knowledge is not valued anywhere near as much as it should be. I hope my book might change that"
Call The Midwife sheds a remarkable light on life 50 or so years, not just on women and childbearing, but on the huge social changes that have taken place.
"Well, 1950s Docklands was, of course, immediately post war. Bomb sites were playing grounds for the children, as well as refuges for the meths drinkers. Most houses had a wireless, but there was no TV - which may have contributed to the size of the families! Pubs, men's clubs, music halls and dog racing were the entertainment - and, surprisingly - the church. Daughters were carefully protected, and seamen of all nationalities were well provided for with plenty of brothels.
"Then three things happened within a decade that ended centuries of tradition: closure of the docks, slum clearance - and the Pill. Yes, the houses were grotty, but the rehousing programme caused many lives to be shattered. Families were torn apart, and the transition literally killed many old people who could not adapt. What use was central heating and a bathroom if you had no-one to talk to, and the best beer is four miles away?"
What about the Pill - how did that affect women?
"It was a revolution. When I was working as a midwife in the 50s, we did 80 -100 deliveries a month, and by 1963 births had dropped to four or five a month. Now that's social change! It was the Godsend that every woman had hoped for. The terrible desperation I witnessed among women who found themselves pregnant and who didn't want to be - especially if they already had large families - was truly awful. They had no choice but to endure dangerous back street abortions - or try to do it themselves. I just don't know how they did it: knitting needles, gin, crochet hooks - even small meat hooks. I never witnessed one personally, but we would get called in to clear up the mess if it went wrong - which it often did. My second book is about back street abortion, in fact."
You write that men were never present at births in those days. Was that a good thing, in your view?
"Men attending births is a relatively recent fashion. Throughout history, as far as I know, it was unheard of. In the 1950s people would have been profoundly shocked at the suggestion - it was a woman's business. Even male doctors were unwelcome at births until the late 19th century. Nowadays I don't think it's either a good or a bad thing. If a woman wants her partner there, then thats fine. But to pressurise a man into attending childbirth is almost cruel! A great many men are squeamish - more so than women - and all that blood? Oh no! Personally I would have resisted my husband being present at my deliveries to my last breath. He was with me all through both labours - but that's very different."
You touch on domestic abuse at one point in your book. Was that very common then?
"No, that was quite unusual, actually. I didn't see a great deal of it in those days - in fact there is more of it nowadays because people live together without marriage, can swap partners and not have to get married. I think this generates a general climate of promiscuity which is much more violent - and dangerous for children."
Were multiple births common?
"Yes. The average was about five or six children, and quite a lot of mothers had twelve or fourteen children. We always advised a first baby to be delivered in hospital - the rest then usually at home unless there were complications. And there was one woman - Conchita Warren - who had 25 children."
You make some insightful comments about prostitution - then and now.
" When I worked the docks, there were prostitutes, of course - and I attended some. Brothels lined Cable Street and surrounding Stepney - its a hidden world, but one that goes on in every town and city the world over, and always has done. For many women, it is the only means of earning a living - especially if she is destitute with children to feed. What woman worthy of the name Mother would stand on a high moral platform about selling her body if her child was dying of hunger and exposure? Not I.
"But now I see a difference, a different type of hunger feeding the prostitution trade - a starvation of love. Thousands running away from desperate circumstances, alone, friendless, craving affection, and attaching themselves to anyone who appears to offer it. The only difference between the 21st century and the 1950s is that, back then, the children procured for soliciting were about fourteen years of age. As I understand it, today the age has dropped to ten."
I was very moved by your descriptions of the nuns you worked with so closely in the 1950s. Their dedication, kindness, grit and experience is inspiring.
"They were just amazing, extraordinary women. In the book I have called them the St. Raymund midwives, and they had been working in the slums of London's Docklands among the poorest of the poor for about half of the 19th century. As the only reliable midwives there, they laboured tirelessly through epidemics of cholera, typhoid, polio and tuberculosis, and survived two world wars. They even stayed in London during the Blitz with intensive bombing rids, delivering babies in air-raid shelters, dugouts, church crypts and underground stations.
"Their tireless, selfless work - to which they had pledged their lives - had earned them the respect and admiration throughout the Docklands. Everyone spoke of them with sincere love.
Their kindness to me was overwhelming at times. At first, after my midwifery training, I thought them very old fashioned - but I had not taken into account the fact they they were dealing with real life - not a classroom situation with ideal mothers and imaginary middle-class women. As my time with them progressed, their experience, dedication and love began to affect me very deeply."
You mention one nun in particular, Sister Julienne.
"She made an impact on most people - not just me. She was not imposing or commanding, not even particularly clever. But she was an amazing woman, saint like, really - something radiated from her. I guess she was the biggest influence in my life - except my husband. When I was working with her she must have been about forty years old, and was extraordinarily experienced. You see, all the nuns in this particular Order had to train in a specific skill - and in this Order they were all nurses and midwives."
Did you feel inspired to join the Order?
"I think that there is something about being in touch with pure goodness that makes you long to be part of it. Yes, I thought very seriously about joining - even prayed about it. But for various reasons it became apparent that joining was not for me. You know, it takes a very, very exceptional woman to take up a vocation like that. It is much misunderstood."
Have the nuns seen your book?
"Yes - and they wished the Order to remain anonymous, which is typical of the purity of their dedication. I have changed all the names as well, obviously."
How do you think midwives fare today?
"In some ways things have changed a lot - and in other ways they haven't. Midwives today are not expected to take on the responsibility that we did. We were told at the beginning of our training "you are responsible for your own decisions and actions in law." Todays midwives have to constantly look over their shoulder in case they've not done something by the book. But a good midwife has to have experience combined with intuition, which means that you have to adapt quickly to sudden changes in circumstances - such as a home breech birth that happens so fast you can't get the woman to a hopital. And you can be reprimanded for that - its deeply unfair.
" My main bone of contention is that midwives have such a low profile - even now. That hasn't changed, and they are not valued nearly as much as they should be. But I wouldn't have swapped my time as a midwife for anything for anything on earth! "
I hope Jennifer's book does alter the status of the midwife. It is long overdue.
To read the review of 'Call the Midwife' just follow the link below.