Musing Of MOTHER BY LEMMIE LACOUR MAXWELL 1944

To Odis, Lila, Paul and David- with all my love. 

May 30, 1944

Today, when I went to Pinedale infirmary to see why I feel so tired and nauseated all the time, (they are sending me on to Hammer Field Hospital for tests) the waiting room was filled with women - officer’s wives, I soon learned. They yipped and they yapped, and I listened. Finally, they began to include me in the conversation. I joined in the small talk for awhile, and then the one with bleached hair and shrill voice asked me, "Deah, I don't believe I've seen you before. Is your husband one of the officers here on the post, too?" "No, I answered, not batting an eye.”He's one of the privates." you could have heard a P.F.C.'s stripe drop! I have always been at a loss to understand why a wonderful, democratic country like ours should have to be protected by such an un-democratic organization as the Armed Forces of America.

 June 19, 1944

Today is my birthday, I am in an army hospital, in a ward filled with Wacs and one other army wife, and I am hundreds of miles from home. I should be utterly miserable, but I'm not. I am as happy as a lark. In six months, Odis and I are going to have a baby! After seven years and despite all the doctors said, we are going to have a baby. The poor little rabbit they killed for the test confirmed it.

I have been very ill; otherwise I wouldn't be in a hospital. I do not know what it is all about. Every once in awhile someone comes in with another gadget and makes another test. Major H., who is in charge of the ward and who is a famous obstetrician and gynecologist from New York, says I am allergic to pregnancy! Imagine! "But," he added. "Frail women like you almost always produce strong, healthy babies, most of the time boys."

I feel a little sorry for him. Drafted into the army, no glory, no way to prove his valor, no place to put him except in a Wac ward! But, he has given me some blessed little pills that have stopped the nausea, and he is handsome and kind and he is making sure that I will be well enough to go back to Louisiana in a week or so when Odis gets his furlough and can travel with me.

When I get back to Louisiana! Bunkie, Louisiana! And in six months, I too can join in the discussions of formulas and colic and how it hurts to have a baby.

The Yankee ward nurse, pardon me, lieutenant, gives me a pain. She is so smug. The Wacs ma'am her here and ma'am her there, and it is plain to see that she resents Jean, the other army wife, and me. I have discovered how to handle her however. The other morning, (we have to bring our trays back into the kitchen after meals) not knowing she had issued a new order, I neglected to scrape my dishes. She had company in the kitchen for coffee - two male captains and one female lieutenant - and I think she was trying to show off a little for their benefit! "Maxwell!" she demanded. "Didn't I tell you people to scrape your plates after meals?" I drew myself up to my full five feet three and one half inches, and looking as dignified as I can in this loose, maroon army robe, I said softly and in my best Southern accent, "Ah beg yo' pardon?" For once, she didn't have a smart answer. She was taken aback. As a matter of fact, she actually looked embarrassed. "Oh," she said, "Er-that's all right Missus Maxwell," which was the first time she hadn't called me just "Maxwell" as she calls the Wacs and Jean by their last names, without any title, of course. Later, in the ward, we all had hysterics. Now, whenever she tires to pull rank on me-a civilian-I know what to do. Exaggerated Southern accent, the pretense of generations of authority in my voice, and quails. She probably thinks I am to the manner born, whatever that means. "After all," she seems to be thinking. "It's true that her husband is only a private, but so are movie stars and other important people, and I know those with the highest I.Q.s are put in the Air Force. Anyway, as I said before, I am going to have a baby in six months, born in Bunkie Louisiana. Odis comes every day during visiting hours, and it is almost time now.

Please pahdon me while Ah powdah mah nose!

July 1, 1944

I have reached Louisiana safely, but how I miss Odis. The trip from California was horrible. The trains were over crowded and hot and I felt so sick the whole time. I longed to be back in the clean, peaceful, air-conditioned ward at Hammer Field Hospital. The major had given me orders to go straight to bed when I got off the train, and to call Dr. C. immediately. Dr. C. says I am fine and will have a "normal delivery". That means Odis cannot come home for the blessed event. I wonder how old the baby will be before Odis sees it? I sound as though I should prefer having the baby under "unusual circumstances", as a soldier is allowed to come home if it is not going to be a normal delivery. Dr. C. cannot understand why the baby is so active this soon and why I am "showing" so much. I have been wearing maternity dresses since I left California-some real snappy numbers (that is supposed to be a pun. you adjust the waist line with snaps.) I think I like them better than any clothes I have ever had.

 September 3, 1944

Dr. C and Dr. K. have put me on a rigid diet. No salts, no fats, no sweets, no this, no that. I has something to do with my blood pressure and the fact that it is apparent I am going to have a big baby. The irony of it is that this is the only time in my whole life that I have been hungry and have actually enjoyed eating. How I yearn for syrup and bread and potato chips and vanilla ice cream. Oh well, I can go and eat another raw carrot. I do hope the baby is not going to look like Bugs Bunny!

November 23, 1944

I am going to have twins! Me, Lemmie Lacour Maxwell, weight as of today one hundred and twenty-three pounds, am going to have twins! I have known it for months, but no one would listen. I have been seeing first Dr. K. and then Dr. C., and yesterday after my routine check, Dr. C. asked his stock question "Is the baby kicking?" I didn't feel too well, so I said belligerently, "Yes, both of them." he laughed. "Now, now did the X-Ray show twins?" "I've had no X-ray", I answered. "What!" He swiveled his chair around. "I thought Dr. K--" "I've had no X-ray," I said again. "Well" he said a little uneasily. "We'd better have one right now and settle that twin deal, h-mm?"

It didn't take very long. After the pictures were made, the technician picked them up. "I'll just show these to the doctors," she said nurse-brightly. "You wait right here. They ay want to take more." In a minute, through the thin walls, I heard quite a commotion. "Get Dr. K., get Mrs. P.," I heard Dr. C. demand. Then I heard Dr. K. whistle, I heard Mrs. P. say, "Oh my goodness>' Then I heard utter silence.”Uh-huh!" I thought. The door to the X-ray room opened and in came the two doctors and Mrs. P. with mingled looks of consternation and excitement-which looks one, does not often see on the faces of doctors and nurses. “Well Lemmie," said Dr. C. "Our humble apologies. There are two babies". I didn’t feel at all triumphant. All I could think of was that I had my shoes of, my rayon wartime hose were at least three inches too long, and that Dr. K. was staring at them. "We'll have to get you to specialist at once. It doesn't look good at all," Dr. C. said. "Oh, I don't think there is much cause for alarm," said Dr. K. with a strained smile. Dr. C wheeled around. "Dr. K.," he said sternly-for Dr. C. "We don't have to softsoap Lemmie. She is intelligent and she doesn't scare easily. Look. She is thirty-three, this is her first pregnancy, there are two babies, breech, both are coming at once, her blood pressure is too high and she has toxemia. What could be worse?" Then he turned to me. "Lemmie," he said gently. "We have almost made a terrible mistake, but thank God we discovered it in time. They will have to do a caesarian section."

December 16, 1944

Delilah Adele Maxwell and Paul Odis Maxwell, aged two weeks, were baptized today. The baptistery was filled with godparents, friends, relatives and babies.

Lila slept. but Paul screamed the whole time. "Maybe he wants to be a Baptist like Odis," I said to Father Olinger, slightly giddy from having been allowed by Dr. K. to attend the ceremony. While Father Olinger was writing down the information, he looked at me with his twinkling blue eyes and asked, "Lemmie, is Delilah a saint's name?" "No, Father, I answered. "But it is my mother-in-law's name and that is policy. However, Adele is a derivative of Adelbert" "Well, he said, his eyes twinkling more than ever. "I guess everything is all right then."

But, everything was not all right. I was crying inside, despite my giddiness, because Odis had to go back to camp last night. And I don't know when-and if-the babies and I will ever see him again.