85f – Emily Leatrice and Baby EmilyAnn 1953 – Lost and Found

Advisory

This is a memoir styled entry which uses any related news coverage from the 1950s and contemporary sources I could find.  It does not appear that the topic of women’s attitudes about childbirth and support for each other, or lack of support for each other, during the 1950s has been studied in depth.  I have made do with the relevant information I could find that supports my Mother’s family story.  I welcome comment from other Baby Boomers whose mothers shared their birth experiences and post-partum experiences with them.  This is a chapter in women’s history that needs some authoritative writing and research.  In the results that emerge we will find clues about the women’s movement of the 1960s and onward.  We will also see the seeds that led to the vast changes in the way in which babies are delivered and mothers experience childbirth today.

As for my family story, this is one that was pieced together from the memories my Mother shared with me over many years.  It was confidential, up-front and very graphic.  I have toned down the details but not the message.  To prettify it and sentimentalize it would rob it of the meaning and the impact the experience had on my Mother’s development. 

Trigger warning:  If my writing about episiotomies, painful birthing, rude maternity ward nurses, and post-partum depression will evoke unpleasant memories for you, please bypass this posting.

Introduction

We go to the 1950s through my memories of a very significant year in my life:  1971.  It is the year I graduated from New Utrecht High School with an Academic Diploma and an 89%/B+ average.  It was also a year in which I kept two books hidden in what my parents still considered my “Stuff Drawer”.  That bottom drawer of my dresser was filled with clippings of fashion reportage by Bernadine Morris of The New York Times and my sewing patterns. 

In 1971 two new books came to live with me that were more important at that moment in time.  I cleared the clippings and patterns from my Stuff Drawer and put them into a box I kept in my closet.  The books were put into plain brown envelopes I bought at Bob’s Candy Store and were, I thought, secure in what my parents still considered the Stuff Drawer.  I do not know why I did not put them in the closet but such was my teenage way of doing things. 

These books were, Living on the Earth, by Alicia Bay Laurel and Our Bodies, Our Selves.  The former was a home-spun guide to living a lifestyle close to nature by dropping out and retuning to the country.  Alicia had engaged in this experiment herself and covered almost everything you needed to know about gardening, canning food, sewing your own clothes, making clothing patterns, folk medicine and–for me–a few pages dedicated to the home birth of a baby.  The emphasis was on the birth process itself, whether the parents decided on a mid-wife or not was up to them.  Our Bodies, Ourselves was making the rounds among the girls in the Honors and Academics classes at my high school via one girl who had the original copy.  She was willing to go to Manhattan and buy a copy for those girls she thought were worthy to know about the book by paying for her subway fare and the price of the book in advance.  Since she frequently went to Manhattan with her boyfriend the free train ride was to her benefit.

Our Bodies, Ourselves was a breakthrough in educating women about their health-related concerns.  What interested me most were the first-hand stories of women sharing their experiences, including childbirth.  There were a few photos that I remember which gave me my very first encounter with the reality of the baby being born.  What I read confirmed everything Mom had shared with me.  I realized what a special relationship we had.  Ever since I was a pre-teen, she began sharing the realities of pregnancy, post-partum baby blues, and the awesome responsibility and changes that come afterward. 

Still, I hid these books because I thought I might earn some parental disapproval or receive a lecture on how I should have asked them for advice.  The publication of these books was tied to the Counter Culture/Youthquake/Rebellion Movement of the 1960s.  My parents had very mixed feelings about what was unfolding in our country.  I envisioned them keeping me at the dinner table with endless questions that would break me down so that they learned where I’d gotten the books.  I had sent away for Living on the Earth saying it was a vintage fashion catalog when the brown envelope came in the mail for me.  But it was Our Bodies, Ourselves that was the most subversive for the time.  Here was a book that looked like it was produced in a basement or college dorm by some radical women who had access to whatever equipment was needed to turn out the crudely finished copy that now occupied my Stuff Drawer.  It was the tie-in with the counter culture which I feared my parents would over-react to.  As things turned out this was the furthest thing from the truth.  What happened next made me ashamed at how I assumed I knew everything about my parents.

I did not expect Mom to come home early that Friday afternoon before the Memorial Day holiday, but she did.  I’d comfortably taken both books out and was having a cup of tea in the kitchen before the lock turned and she walked into the porch.  As a teenager my inability to ever think I’d get caught at anything made me very careless.  I’d hidden the book in a drawer but never considered what would happen if I read it anywhere but in my room before going to sleep.  I didn’t know where to hide them I was so flustered.  I never expected what happened next.  When she came into the kitchen Mom asked me about the books, sat down, looked through the sections I’d told her about.  Her first remark?  “It’s about time!”, she said. 

It was on this afternoon that Mom told me quite openly the rest of the story about her childbirth experience.  At this time, we both thought the Women’s Movement would bring forth a greater sense of camaraderie and sisterhood amongst mothers from all walks of life as they became more open, respectful and accepting of each other’s race, culture, and experiences.  During the 1950s when I was born the myth of the ideal pregnancy and the ideal woman was such that when my Mom spoke quite frankly about her experiences no such sisterhood, support, or respect was to be had.  Instead she heard many, but not all, women she met repeating the popular notions in circulation at the time. Notions that originated with the men who wrote the articles, delivered the babies, acted as experts on infant care and child development.  Such notions as women forgetting all the pain of childbirth, as well as their treatment by hospital and staff, as a sheer ecstasy of delight came over them. 

It was this pop cultural notion of a perfect, pain-free pregnancy and a less than sensitive approach to childbirth that stripped away all decision making from the mother that I sought to research.  What I found is not enough but it points the way to give greater meaning to the details Mom shared with me.

Relationship Notes

Emily Leatrice Serrapede was the daughter of Sam and Josie (nee Muro) Serrapede.  She was born in 1931 and grew up in the Italian-American community in Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, NY.  She attended Bay Ridge High School and graduated with a Commercial Diploma in Secretarial Studies.  Emily continued to work as a legal secretary after her marriage to Frank J. Terry* in 1950, leaving when she was four months pregnant.

Josie Muro Serrapede was born in Agropoli, Salerno, Italy to Nicola and Letizia (nee Scotti) Muro in 1909.  Letizia was known for her skill in midwifery and home remedies amongst the townswomen of Wilmerding, Pennsylvania where the Muro family settled after immigrating to America.  Josie worked as a sewing machine operator except during a brief period after the death of her first son.  She then resumed piecework and homework until her second son, Junior (a/k/a Sam, Sammy) started school in the late 1940s.  Josie then returned to work full-time.  When Emily Leatrice’s experiences with lack of support and encouragement from women outside the family circle became a source of irritation, Emily turned to her mother citing her as an “expert in her own right based on experience”.  Emily often said her mother had a Masters Degree from SOL University.  The SOL stood for “School of Life”.

Blanche Flashenberg Terry* was born in the Lower East Side of Manhattan in 1905 to immigrant Orthodox Jews from Galicia.  She grew up in the Yorkville section of Manhattan and worked as a showroom model prior to her marriage.  Blanche was very modest, proper, polite and reserved in public.  Amongst her family she could let loose with choice words in Yiddish and tell a subtle joke that took some time for the listener to get the full meaning of.  Blanche had birthed 4 healthy children and suffered 4 miscarriages, a revelation she shared with Emily before Emily became pregnant with EmilyAnn.  This new-found closeness made Emily consider her mother-in-law as her second expert in childbirth based on experience.

85e-Emily and Frank 1953: We’ll make sure you go to the best baby hospital in Brooklyn…

Introduction

Mom and Dad were going to follow the approach Mom’s family used to find an obstetrician and hospital when Josie (my maternal Grandmother) was pregnant with Mom.  Josie relied on her family doctor to make recommendations for an obstetrician affiliated with a hospital.  Since Mom was very familiar and comfortable with the Serrapede’s family doctor, she felt she would rely on him.  Also, there were paesani and neighbors who went to the same doctor.  They, too, could be called on in the search for information about any recommended medical professional and hospital. An honest opinion, based on experience, was to be had for the asking. That was very important to Mom.  She used the first-hand information others imparted to her during the early process of making a decision.  Mom thought one could pick up details that way which might never make it to the newspapers.

Things took a different direction when Blanche and Al, my paternal grandparents, persuaded my Dad to influence my Mom before she even became pregnant. Since Dad had announced that 1953 would “the year of the baby”, Blanche and Al thought it best to have Al’s cousin, a well-known and respected doctor in the community, deliver the baby. The cousin was affiliated with Shore Road Hospital, one of the best hospitals in Bay Ridge.  It enjoyed an excellent reputation for the care provided to mothers and babies in the maternity ward.  There was also a high rate of success for the safe delivery of healthy babies.  The entire conversation and thrust of the direction of what they thought was best for the baby. Blanche and Al overlooked an important and very obvious aspect of the situation:  it was my Mom’s pregnancy, not theirs.

Mom was impressed with Al’s cousin and his professional achievements.  But at the same time she felt as if she was in a bind, as if her own freedom of movement and decision making was encroached upon.  Mom was starting to look at Dad and her in-laws in a different way.  She didn’t want to argue or have an outburst.  She tried very hard to project an air of confidence about the future. At the same time she regretted my Dad’s openness about announcing before time that they were planning for the baby before I was even conceived.

Deep down, Mom thought her in-laws were becoming too involved in her marriage and now her baby-to-be.  Mom hadn’t wanted or even thought about Shore Road Hospital or Al’s cousin for the doctor.  She wanted to do this as originally planned.  Now everything was being inched out and away from her.  Mom acted confident as a way to stop Dad’s family from more of their persuasive mantras that “Al will help!  He’s just swell!  He’ll fix it so everything is grand!”  The less Mom heard of that the more she thought nobody could see through her act.  But that was not the case.  Josie and Sam, her parents, knew all of the nuances of Mom’s behavior but did not say anything until she confided her conflicting emotions and her new realizations to them. 

This posting will be presented in a style I hope is more memoir than genealogical, more conversational than analytical and more engaging.  I also hope any new or about-to-be mothers may find some relevance in the story and message imparted.  The posting is also meant to be a starting point for consideration of issues in pregnancy and childbith during the 1950s and today.

Springtime Greetings

Bright blessings to all!

Spring has come,

The Earth is renewed,

Life is in bloom,

The Sun shines upon us all!

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watercolor: prawny at pixabay. available at pixabay dot com

85d-Emily Leatrice and Franke Jesse, 1953: Signs of Life

Introduction

When Emily became pregnant in 1953 she and her husband Frank devoted time to careful planning for the baby’s arrival.  They did not, though, put everything else aside to focus solely on the baby.  Emily worked straight through the 4^th to early 5^th month of her pregnancy.  Frank focused on his job working overtime when needed. He was enthusiastic to show the management at the import firm where he worked that he was more than willing to carry out the many responsibilities that came with his new position as a supervisor. 

Emily and Frank were waiting for the first signs of life as the pregnancy advanced.  Emily felt the baby kicking and moving for the first time on Saturday, June 20^th, 1953. It happened during a subway ride from Dyker Heights to Brooklyn Heights.  Even though she was still carrying small, Emily wore one of her new smock-type maternity tops along with a new skirt and flat shoes she’d bought for the office. Frank could see she needed a change of scenery and so they were off to enjoy lunch in Brooklyn Heights followed by a stroll along the tree lined streets filled with historic brownstones. From there they’d spend time on the Promenade taking in the view of Manhattan across the river. 

While on the train, Emily and Frank read the front-page news.  They didn’t expect the rebuke an elderly woman seated across from them on the train gave to Emily.  The woman reprimanded her for following such a highly charged court case that elicited strong emotional and intellectual responses around the world.  The essence of the reprimand was that Emily and Frank were not considering how their developing baby experienced the effects of a subject that was sure to create a case of “mental over-stimulation and physical agitation in the mother”.   

Relationship Notes

Emily Leatrice was the daughter of Sam (Sabato) and Josie (nee Muro) Serrapede.  She was born in 1931 and grew up in the Italian-American Community of Dyker Heights, Brooklyn, NY.  She married Frank Jesse Terry* in June of 1950.  At the time of this family story she was still working as a Legal Secretary at the Brooklyn office of Charles Marion Graham, Esq.

Frank Jesse was the son of Al and Blanche (nee Flashenberg) Terry*.  He was born in 1927 and served our country stateside during WWII.  Frank met Emily in 1947 and from the start they had much in common in terms of their vision of a family life and how to raise a family.  They believed in taking a sensible approach to married life by planning for each stage before taking on new responsibilities.  Much of their planning focused on being in a financial position to assume the new responsibilities in a way that would not impact them negatively.  Things began to get off course once Frank, always amenable to his father’s influence, took his parents side about purchasing a house shortly before the baby was born.  Blanche and Al acted as the mortgagee, promoting the house, the community and the location as complete perfection. 

Emily and Frank moved into the new house late Spring-early Summer of 1953.  Emily’s parents had cautioned her about taking on too much additional responsibility during her pregnancy.  They were the only ones who advised Emily to wait.  A disagreement arose but was quickly patched up by Frank.  After this Emily kept her thoughts about the house and all the extra work it created for her during a difficult first half of a difficult pregnancy to herself.

*See Note about surname before Discussion section.

Mid-20^th Century Pregnancy and Motherhood:  Are new college courses about to be created?

I am motivated to present this subject in a more personal style than usual because of postings I found at blogs focused on motherhood and raising children during the 1950s.(See Resources section for links).  Younger bloggers are beginning the first steps of seriously reviewing the experiences of pregnancy and motherhood in the mid-20th century and onwards.  It is often informal reviews such as these postings that point to a need for formal research, studies and coursework using verifiable data, research methods and citation of all sources.  In the current form of blog posts and forum discussions a person who raised a family in the 1950s, or a person who grew up during that time, can recognize some familiar aspects of life and the popular culture of the decade.  At others the information is skewed by lack of factual sources cited to back up the statements made.  This is why I strongly think there is a growing need for formal study, research and coursework on this subject.

Some bloggers are doing comparisons between the 1950s, 1960s, 1970s and 1980s to the present by interviewing their own mothers, grandmothers and other female relatives.  These postings not only have immediacy and value for their own families but help us get a picture, however small, of the communities and regions where the individual lived and what was in progress for pregnancy and motherhood at that time.  To these bloggers I say, “Keep up that good work and pass the torch on!”

In recounting the story my parents shared with me about Saturday, June 20, 1953 I hope to provide examples of how the popular culture and trends of the 1950s affected the people and places that are part of our family history.  By sharing a memoir-styled entry my goal is to bring the period to life in a way that makes it more accessible to readers of this blog. 

Focus on Pregnancy and Childbirth in the 1950s

One of the bloggers I came across while researching for this post did an excellent job of outlining the experiences of motherhood and pregnancy during the 1950s. Her name is Miriam, and she authored a posting on May 29, 2008 for Babygaga entitled “15 Crazy Rules Pregnant Women Had to Follow in the 1950s”.  Miriam cites all her sources and summarizes each rule in a concise manner.  She also adds her own personal experiences and that of her mother into the posting.  I found her piece very easy to relate to since several of the rules she writes about correspond with details my Mom shared with me about her experiences when pregnant to me in 1953.