Rus Articles Journal

Traveling notes of pregnancy

the Way of nine months. It would seem, such long nine months. It would be possible to write a three-volume edition, the epic, for example, volume first - Early toxicosis of pregnancy, etc. Or novel. About big and unconditional love to future kid. But memory palms off only bright flashes some trifles, scraps of talk, awfully considerable for me, someone`s incidentally let fall phrases, thereby defining also a genre of the narration.


Ya she is pregnant? The test shows two strips. One bright, other pale.

- no Rather, than yes, - mother is afraid to encourage me. there is no
- Rather yes, than, - my internal voice grins.

Six weeks . I go by the bus.

- Is not present

, it is intolerable, - I think, - why it poured out on itself(himself) a half-bottle of threefold cologne. And this since morning gorged on garlic. And what costs in three meters from me smokes cigarettes “Belomorkanal“.

Ten weeks . First ultrasonography.

- Two handles. Legs too two, - the doctor dictates to the nurse, - heart fights rhythmically...
Oh, my God! It is improbable! In me the small heart fights!

Fourteen weeks . I bring home the photo after repeated ultrasonography.

- Watch

what it is beautiful! - I brag to the husband.
- And where it in general? - he asks.

Sixteen weeks . I in consultation.

- With such indicators the analysis needs to be repeated. Here one woman had same analyses too. It was necessary to do interruption on the fifth month. So, my dear, do not pull.
Is natural, I pay the repeated analysis.

Seventeen weeks . Again in consultation.

- Well, how there my analysis?! - I ask from a threshold.
- the Analysis? What analysis? Ah, this. Level of hormones is a little underestimated. Well, anything terrible. And, you two times handed over? The last too good, - it is lazy the same doctor answers.

Eighteen weeks . I try to fall asleep. Suddenly in a stomach as if the bubble burst. Listened... One more... And series of bubbles.

- Hi, my darling! As I am glad you to hear!

Twenty five weeks . Night on the eve of the next ultrasonography.

- Admit to

who you are? - I ask in a dream, - the Boy or the girl?
- Yes, the boy, I, the boy! - indignantly the child answers.

Actually ultrasonography.

- you know the Floor? - the doctor asks. there is no
- - answer and I understand that I dissemble.
- the Boy - states it.
- And you are sure? - I laugh at heart, - Precisely, precisely?
- Here give rise and you learn! - it is irritated uziolog.
- As bothered these deranged pregnant women - is distinctly read on his face.

Twenty eight weeks . Bought “CD“ with children`s songs. I sob over the “Baby mammoth song“ scrolled for the tenth time. The husband goes, singing the song from the animated film about Umka.

Thirty weeks . The son has a new entertainment - to make a start legs from a mother`s stomach.

- Still slightly - slightly, I will also tickle to you heels, - by a strict voice I speak, and on my face the happy smile lodged long ago.

Thirty six weeks . I try to find at myself some signs of fast childbirth. Anything new.

Thirty seven weeks . The nesting instinct begins to be shown. Washed all children`s clothes up to those which will be necessary not earlier, than in half a year. Prepared all necessary. Collected a bag in maternity hospital.

Thirty eight weeks . Laid down in maternity hospital.“ We wait - with“.

Thirty nine weeks . “Again we wait - with“. Awfully remarks of relatives and acquaintances, type irritate: “And you what, did not give rise, still?“, “When to give birth - that you gather? Decided to bring up an elephant calf?“ .

Forty weeks .

- the Son, have conscience! Mummy so missed! So wants to see you! - I finish the child. And in reply - silence.

Forty weeks and one day . Evening. Courageously I suffer fights. In several hours the stock of courage runs low.

- still gunpowder in powder flasks Is? - I ask myself a question.
- Put an epiduralka!!! - cries out an internal voice.

Forty weeks and already two days . Night. We go to give birth on a table. Legs do not obey. Forces is absent at all.

- Tuzhsya! - the midwife orders.
- I cannot... - I whisper.
- to Whom I speak! - she raises the voice.
- So, well done! Still!... The head was born... Now NOT tuzhsya!
- I cannot! - I already shout.

are Come up by a coat hanger. And all behind! Almost everything. The placenta, seams - is not counted. The main thing, the son was born! It is such small, dirty, indignant. And I am proud and immensely happy. There is a wish to jump and run, shout all and to everyone of the happiness. At all it is not important that so far I not in forces to rise...