The beginning of
In maternity hospital in which I appeared to me was disgusting. A lot of things were not pleasant to me, felt very badly, the daughter constantly cried therefore I insufferably wanted to get to native walls. I looked forward to an extract from maternity hospital. For some reason it seemed to me that as soon as I get home, everything will change: the daughter will cease to cry, I will fly with happiness, all will sponsor us, etc.
For the fourth day after the delivery write out us. I try to make toilet, but I understand that and a tired look nothing to disguise blue under eyes. In me the feeling of huge pride because storms that I am a good fellow because brought the daughter into world. Well, the door here opens, and I see the father. He costs with flowers and, judging by a look, terribly is nervous. We come home. Fast I feed the daughter, and we go to celebrate this event on kitchen. Here I face reality. I cannot sit down, and all that is prepared and costs on a table, to me is it is impossible. The mood falls. There is no that holiday which I drew in the image.
we Go to bed. Each 1,5 - 2 hours I should jump to feed the child. In the morning the father leaves for work, and I remain one. The melancholy slowly begins to attack me. And so all day by day...
As though all live life, and I am cut off from world around. To feed, change clothes, rock to sleep, to buy. Here in what my life consists now. Feeding by a breast brings me intolerable pain. Having squeezed a pillow teeth not to cry, I feed. The daughter demands a breast still in 1,5 - 2 hours. Sleeps badly at night. I begin to resemble the zombie. Gradually we get used to each other, but the feeling of melancholy does not pass, it seems to me that it, on the contrary, everything grows and grows. I am very much strained by the compelled refusal of favourite products, there is a strong wish to eat herrings, to drink beer, to have a snack on smoked sausage sandwich … There is a strong wish to escape from the house, to meet girlfriends or just to wander on streets. The festivities with the child bring me incomparable joy, I with surprise look at people who hurry somewhere, at the passing cars, show-windows of shops. The feeling is such that I got on other planet. Every day I get used to new life more and more.
20 days Later there comes dairy crisis. The child grows thin. I make the decision to finish feeding. And in 10 days I lift the highest temperature, and milk vanishes. This day I will never forget. Weakened, I take Alyonushka (so we called our daughter) on hands, and she the first time smiles to me. I as though recovered. At last, understood what is here, this most important that I have, for the sake of it should be lived, rejoiced, loved. This day I consider as the beginning of the motherhood.