are closer to eight shy beam of the sun overcame a window lattice and lit my tired, but happy face. I opened eyes: greenish walls, the washed-off curtains, the peeled-off window sill. Translated a view of the body which spread on a couch. Instead of it found the white, through become permeated with the smell of bleaching powder sheet with the square press in the middle. “Maternity hospital No. 7“ - I hardly read.
I suddenly powerful electric charge rushed from the top to the heels, and the afterthought at last lit up consciousness.
“I gave birth to the son!!!“
I wanted to shout of it at all this world. To fly. To run. To sing.
“Where my boy?“ - at first the concern was shy knocked in soul, and then at all occupied all free space of soul.
Fortunately, soon there was a midwife, told that the kid sleeps, and transported me in separate cozy chamber. At last I got access to cellular communication, and first of all dialed number of the husband. Instead of it the girl answered: “The subscriber switched-off phone“.
“At such moment! To switch-off phone! It is inconceivable!!!“ I was indignant. Called mother.
- Weight - three eight hundred forty. Growth - fifty two.
- You - that as?! - for parents this night seemed eternity. Now - that and I can understand it, I - too MOTHER.
- Where Sashka? - I am perplexed.
- At it money on phone came to an end, but he at eight in the morning was going to run in cash desk.
- it is eternal at it so, - I grumble, but above all I want that it was near me now. No. I lie. Above all I want that with me there were two beloveds - it and, of course, my little, very best beloved sonny.the door of chamber was opened by
B eleven, and I saw my kid. Such tiny, with pleasure snuffling. Blednenky. With red streaks on centuries and a nose bridge. Such touching. And such native.is farther than
A - happy morning turned in happy day. In it there was everything: huge bouquet of red roses, the shivering husband`s hands, smile of simplification of mother, avaricious man`s tears of the father. And, of course, love. Love in all its manifestations. The most real.
Here such here family romanticism.