Their wives were also all cleaned up and calm, ready to greet their husbands.
Not so these days. Most dads today are either in the birthing room or right outside the door.
They see and hear exactly what the mothers of their babies go through. They also give support and encouragement but I think the best thing is that they get to bond with the baby straight away.
So we treat births very differently and better, I think, today than we ever have.
Death and grief is also treated much better today.
The baby my mother lost was born on January 1, 1949, at about 20 to one in the morning, mum recalls,
He died on January 5 — his name was Terry. She had fed him the night before and the nurse had taken him to the nursery.
She said the next morning he didn't come out with the other babies. No one would tell her anything — they just wanted to know how they could contact her husband.
I'm not going to go into detail about it here. There was no funeral as such, he was buried with his uncle. In those days the confinement after having a baby was two weeks.
Mum was moved into a private room but it was right beside the nursery. She wasn't allowed to go home. Finally, after nine days, they let her leave.
My friend whose baby died in 1979 did have a funeral for her girl who was born at 31 weeks and lived for four days.
The mother was allowed to go to the funeral only if she went in a wheelchair, which she did. Her wee daughter was in an incubator and, unlike today, photos were not allowed.
After the baby died my friend was too distraught to think of taking photos, so now she has only her memories.
Today's babies are photographed as soon as they see the light of day and mothers and baby are home the same day or the next day.
If tragedy strikes today family and friends come together to remember, talk, and support parents. We have come a long way — thank goodness.
Everyone grieves differently. Jan Pryor's book is not only about her personal experience but it also deals with how others deal with your grief.
I asked her what she would say to someone who had lost a loved one.
"I would ask them to tell me about the person they had lost. I would acknowledge their pain and NOT tell them about mine in a similar situation! If appropriate I would hug them a lot and cry with them."
Good advice.
• On a much lighter note, I want to give a big shout out to Nola — the wonderful cafe in Waipawa, where I dined on Monday at lunchtime. The place was packed, the food was absolutely delicious and really well priced and the service wonderful. Check it out next time you are heading south.
• Linda Hall is assistant editor of Hawke's Bay Today.
