Rus Articles Journal

In the mountain and in pleasure of

History of my motherhood began in 1987. Easily and joyfully nine months of expectation flew by. Time has come, and I went to the Riga maternity hospital for the firstborn. That difficult night presented to me the daughter. But we were not fated even to see each other. In a day I was told that the baby died. Here then I also got acquainted with the surprising woman who became my angel - the keeper for all next years.

It. It found for me words of support and a consolation those minutes when it seemed that the earth leaves from - under legs, and light grows dim. And saying goodbye, promised that will be near me if it is necessary. In the people speak: there would be no happiness and the misfortune helped. My history in accuracy corresponds to this expression.

Not at once I decided on the following pregnancy. But all the time of expectation “my“ doctor was with me, could dispel all my doubts and instill in me confidence in the forces. During our close communication it became clear that both of us gave many years to one sport. And even more we pulled together this fact. And time was very “hot“: fifth year of university, thesis defense.

my eldest son asked on light for three weeks before term. Yes so that surgery was required, and he was born by means of Cesarean section. On happy combination of circumstances, that night “my“ midwife was on duty. I very much worried, but saw before myself her eyes (all face was already covered by a surgical mask), felt that I not one, everything will be good.

Quite recently on a question of the doctor: “Why did Cesarean section?“, I, as usual, answered: peeling of a placenta. Also was surprised to the following question: “Were in time?“ . Was surprised and frightened backdating: and what, could not be in time? And the feeling of huge gratitude filled my heart. And then... Then I was disturbed by my cut stomach, to any young woman, young mummy wants to feel beautiful. But the seam was made so skillfully that through some time this thin thread was already difficult to be noticed.

the history 90 Course - ykh scarred years my life. My native Latvia became the independent state, and we with the son lived on two houses, between Riga and Moscow. But, coming back to native Riga, I first of all ran in maternity hospital with flowers to “my“ midwife.

“my“ midwife held

In seven years on hands of my second child. Pregnancy was difficult. My doctor literally nursed us: me and the son who was not born yet. Both still I surprisingly clearly and precisely remember that bright, sunny day of the leaving summer when I was brought to chamber, and there I was waited by my dearest and dear people: the husband, the son (they even helped to dress the newborn baby), mother and she, my Midwife.

But on it my history does not come to an end with

yet. Our family finally moved to Moscow. Of course, we often are in native Riga. My children know where they were born in what chamber we with them lay and who took the first them on hands. Now with flowers in the Riga maternity hospital, to our midwife we went together. But the destiny needed to present to our family of one more child, the daughter. Probably, it is not difficult to guess, as it was born in the Riga maternity hospital. And, listening to a quiet conversation during operation, I heard the nurse`s question turned to my doctor: third operation? and all yours? I happily smiled in reply.

to the Daughter soon. Summer our big family is going to carry out in Riga. And first of all I with children, of course, will go with flowers to it, Natalya Petrovna Valuyeva managing the fifth office of the Riga maternity hospital.