More family history...birth stories

As mostly recounted by my Dad, probably with some legendary colouring. 

They were married at Sköns kyrka, a little bit north of Sundsvall (on the mainland opposite Alnö).

My mum's mum (Sigrid) was worried that Dad would faint at the altar for lack of sustenance. That morning she cooked him a plate of his favourite food, macaroni cheese. 

After their teetotal wedding reception, they set off on honeymoon (a lake stuga at Österström, near Liden). My dad managed to smuggle a bottle of wine onto the bus. When they got there, they found they weren't the only drinkers. Sounds of revelry surrounded an illegal still. My dad says there was someone playing the musical saw, too.

A year later (1958) I was born. My mum was in the hospital in Eastbourne. Dad, rather anxious, rang and asked if he could visit. "Husband? Certainly not! Stay out of it, none of your business," he was told. He saw me for the first time when I was presentable. 

Annika came along four years later. 

When mum's waters broke, they were in the middle of entertaining a male visitor who didn't know much about babies (not being "that way inclined", my Dad remarked). "Mightn't I just have one more cup of tea?" he inquired as they rushed about, getting everything together for the dash to Oakham hospital (in Rutland).

We were living in rural Leicestershire. Mutti (my dad's mum) had travelled up from Eastbourne to look after me. 

The hospital was short-staffed. Dad was instructed to wait with Mum and only to call for assistance when the baby was actually coming. 

After a couple of false alarms (for which he was told off) the baby really was coming. Now a nurse took his place, while he sat and waited behind a screen. Afterwards the nurse was ecstatic. "I've never delivered a baby before!" she told him. She had been drafted in from a nearby hospital that didn't have a maternity unit. 

It was at Oakham, too, that Mum unwontedly lost her temper. In those days newborns were looked after separately to allow mums to get some rest. But Mum could hear Annika crying and wanted her. The staff resisted until Mum threatened to get up and fetch her baby herself. Annika was very hungry. For some reason she had not been absorbing food properly in the womb. 

On the whole Annika is considered to have survived by the skin of her teeth! 

I remember when I first saw her, a red little bundle in the gloom of the Morris Oxford when we came to bring them home. 

Fifteen years later, when Mir was born, things had changed.  Fathers were now expected to be present and to hold their partner's hand during the birth. So Dad was there with Mum, but after a while with nothing much happening the nurse said that he might as well go and get a cup of coffee, because it's going to be hours yet. 

He set off dutifully to the restaurant. When he came back, Mir had already been born. "She took me by surprise!" the nurse remarked.