Those who are born in dream of
We sat with the daughter on a sofa and considered our family photo album.- Watch
, Olechk, - I told. - Here we with the father when only got acquainted. It is our wedding. And here - a honeymoon trip.
- And why I am not here? - Olechka was surprised.
- You then were not. You were not born yet.
- As it “was not?“ - the daughter was upset. - Absolutely?
- Well, no. Of course, you and then at us were. In dream.
- In dream? - Olechka was delighted. - Means, children at first are born in dream?
In dream... It is necessary as it is well told! Just at that time I dreamed of emergence in our family of one more kid.at Night me the dream dreamed
. As though I come back home, I open a door... also I see on a threshold of the nice boy of years of two. His face seems to me vaguely familiar. Who are you, the kid? Where I saw you earlier? Attentively looked narrowly. Well, of course! It is similar to my daughter, Olechka. The same light-a fair hair, gray eyes. But business was not only in external similarity. I looked at the kid and felt how I am overflowed by the same emotions which I usually experienced in relation to the daughter. Same wave of tenderness, heat... And I guessed: this kid - my child, my sonny, Olechkin the younger brother. In a dream I stroked the kid on a light head, embraced Olechka and told aloud: “It is necessary what children at me good!“
I it became so good at heart... from this word “children“. I got used to speak: “my child“, “my daughter“, “my girl“. And now - “children“, “my children“. I have two kids. And it is healthy!
I guessed pregnancy still before saw two strips on the test. From that day when in me new life arose, the world changed - was filled with new smells and sounds, began to shine new paints. My state reminded easy pleasant intoxication - as if after a glass of champagne. At the end of the month I showed to the husband a positive test for pregnancy with words: “Well what I told you!“ I by then for a long time did not have doubts that it “it“.I very much wanted
In the first pregnancy the girl. And this time something prompted to me that I carry under heart of the sonny. From the very beginning I wanted to name the kid Vova. Vovka, Vova, Vovochka - said about herself, and such feeling covered as if this child already with us. As if I have already two kids, two kids: Olya and Vova, Olechka and Vovochka.
Remembering the dream, I was sure that my children will be very similar that Vova will be same fair-haired, gray-eyed as Olechka, with the same dimples on cheeks...
I went For ultrasonography in full confidence that I will see the boy. The doctor and the very young probationer long drove the sensor on my stomach, gave some numbers, exchanged unclear phrases - and I quietly waited when I am told that I have a boy. Time was played long. Phrase “Aga... the boy“ sounded at the very end of ultrasonography - research. As they say - as was to be shown.carried
Ya under heart of the kid and, strangely enough, practically did not feel the pregnant woman. The small tummy, delicate pushes of the child did not give me a special inconvenience. I worked, drove Olya after a garden in circles, and on days off - in circus, theater or on the nature.
That fall we with the daughter walked much, were engaged in creativity, read - all this gave me special pleasure. And at heart all the time was easy and joyful. Before new year I issued a maternity leave and was going to be engaged in the choice of maternity hospital in which the sonny should be born, and also purchase of a children`s dowry. However not here - that was. Troubles always come when least of all you expect them...
the Winter that year was very severe. Hard frosts, snow drifts, unusual for our district, which alternated with slush and ice... Usual seasonal cold... A headache, cold, irritation in a throat... And further an event began to be developed as in bad cinema. SARS... Pharyngitis... Laryngitis... Otitis... Tracheitis... Bronchitis... Suspicion on pneumonia. Course of antibiotics... One more course. X-ray analysis... Indeed - pneumonia.
“Pneumonia on the thirty fifth week! - the manager of a maternity welfare unit shouted at me, without mincing words. - To inform of the child such term - and to lose? You look at the analyses! Look what short wind at you! Besides, at you the stomach ceased to rise - means, the child does not develop!“ I did not find what to answer. A bit later I thought that short wind was a consequence of my fast rise on a ladder - from it it would arise at any person who even is not burdened with an eight-months stomach. That my raised ROE in analyses are a physiologic consequence of pregnancy. That my stomach does not rise because on the thirty fifth week it should fall, on the contrary. At that moment, having heard the words “the child does not develop“, I a bullet took off from an office...
I wanted only - to see and hear one that my kid is living and healthy. Ultrasonography - the office settled down in the distant case, I ran there, stumbling on ice, choking with cough, being covered with a scarf that ice air did not get into a mouth...
“Everything is all right. There is no delay of pre-natal development, - the doctor in ultrasonography - an office calmed me. - Good boy, only small! But you and small so do not worry“. Calmed, I returned to an office a zavkonsultation, showed it the conclusion of ultrasonography. “You do not understand as far as everything is serious? Urgently in hospital! I call “ambulance“, and you go right now!“ Further the manager, savouring details, began long and with pleasure to tell about reanimation, medical ventilation apparatuses and frequent deaths owing to pneumonia on the ninth month of pregnancy. To be fair, it should be noted that I felt at that moment pretty well (apart from importunate cough). Therefore began to explain with a zavkonsultation that right now I cannot go to hospital as there is nobody to leave the senior child. “You do not hear me, perhaps? If you die, the question “with whom to leave the child“ will be for you not actual!“ Thanks on the kind word...
I nevertheless agreed To hospitalization - itself perfectly understood that with pneumonia on such term it is better not to joke. Especially, I was sent to the best maternity hospital of our city where, according to the manager, very much showed consideration for pregnant women, and all treatment was carried out absolutely harmless and safe for a fruit. However what occurred further reminded theater of absurdity more and more.
I Come to maternity hospital, I show the direction. At the nurse in an accident ward eyes are rounded...
- Pneumonia?! Girl and you that? We have generally a maternity hospital here, and in pulmonology it is necessary for you!
- you scoff over me, perhaps? What pulmonology - me to give birth one of these days!
- Yes understand! We have neither equipment, nor the experts treating pneumonia here! Pulmonologists are necessary to you, and we are obstetricians - gynecologists! Well than we will be able to help you here? To listen to heartbeat of a fruit?
Call “ambulance“, bring me to city hospital, to pulmonology. The show goes on. Nurses of pulmonary office, having seen my eight-months stomach, nearly faint.
- Thirty five weeks of pregnancy?! You whom to us brought?! That she gave rise directly here? And well, immediately carry it to maternity hospital! Here I begin a hysterics, I demand that I was given documents and lowered home.
- the Silly woman, - shout to me, - where you will go? You want to throw out or give rise on the road?
- Tipun to you on language! - weepingly I snap. Nurses, seeing that they I in an inadequate state, begin to put in eager rivalry to me a valerian... Eventually, I was brought back to maternity hospital. But, as one would expect, in maternity hospital I could not be helped with treatment of pneumonia. The therapist appeared once, listened to me, appointed a traditional antibiotic - more I did not see her. Improvement did not come. But the obstetricians coming to round - inekolog at best could advise “to suck lollipops for cough“.understood
Ya: if to me it becomes worse, I will be transported in pulmonology - in maternity hospital are not able to treat only pneumonia, but even ordinary cold. The personnel of maternity hospital were interested in keeping my child healthy, but could not cure me. In pulmonology, on the contrary, I would be rescued from pneumonia, but would not begin to keep the kid. For the first time in life I felt the full deadlock... All my efforts seemed vain. Neither the official medicine, nor money (I was ready to pay any sum if only I was put on legs), communications helped (relatives lifted on half-city ears in search of doctors). Vainly! The illness progressed, and nobody knew how at the same time to rescue me and not to do much harm to the kid.
my Heart clenched for fear and alarm. Having caught shouts of babies (my box was located on one floor with rodzaly and postnatal chambers), I began to cry - then to me shout of the newborn seemed just unattainable happiness. With bitterness I remembered, from - for what trifles I worried a month ago. I was afraid of childbirth. I worried - suddenly the baby will be uneasy and will begin to bring upon me a lot of trouble. As it became a shame to me from these thoughts now! I prayed only for one - that my kid was born healthy. If only to hear shout of the newborn child and to press it to itself... Then it seemed to me that only the miracle can rescue us. And the miracle came true.
I Will lower the further details of my stay in maternity hospital and treatments, but anyway one week prior to childbirth I was written out home with the diagnosis “a satisfactory condition“ the Black strip came to an end. And ahead of me the happy meeting with the favourite kid waited... Long-awaited meeting.
So, the most terrible remained behind. The endured stress did not leave the place to fear of childbirth - therefore the last days of pregnancy at heart at me it was quiet and good. However, having weakened from an illness, I slept almost all days. And in breaks between dreams watched children`s movies and fairy tales - they adjusted me on a positive wave.I looked with
that morning at the children`s fairy tale too, and then fell asleep till a lunch. Woke up with feeling that training fights to which I got used for the last week became more sensitive and more painful. Until the end of day I listened to myself, trying to guess: it or not it. Fights were though not regular, but quite notable.
in the Evening, as usual, I read Olechke the book, put her to bed. Fights every forty minutes. To go to maternity hospital unambiguously early. To go to bed most? Oh, is not present - then it is necessary to get out of a warm bed, to put on, go to maternity hospital. I will better wait until fights become frequent. No, all is better - to try to fall asleep - forces still will be useful. I change clothes in a pajamas, I go to bed. Fights everyone half an hour. There is no wish to sleep. Perhaps to go to a shower? Oh, something there are no forces at all. To crown it all begins to feel sick. Fights each twenty minutes.
Having waited for a ten-minute interval between fights, I call the doctor, I receive command to go to maternity hospital. The husband rings “ambulance“. The ambulance car approaches our entrance exactly at midnight. We go to maternity hospital to other end of the city. All road the husband carefully embraces me for shoulders, and I look out of the window on the night snow-covered city... Now we with the husband remember this moment as one of the most romantic in our family life.
In an accident ward the doctor examined me, advised to go to chamber and to try to doze, so far fights not really painful. Despite the endured nervousness, I managed to fall asleep. I woke up already at daybreak - from the fact that fights became a thicket and am more notable. Dream it vanished as if by magic. I parted forcibly the husband (all night long he dozed on a stool near me) - and we entered the true passion, noting time between fights and rejoicing as children, to reduction of intervals between them. When I began fight, I raised a hand when I came to an end - lowered, and the husband marked this interval on a stop watch.
- Through what interval fight? - I asked the husband.
- In five minutes.
- How many lasted?
- Twenty seconds.
After a while:
- Fights for thirty seconds.
- the Interval?
- Two and a half minutes.
- And now?
- Forty five seconds every one and a half minutes.
- Yes!became stronger than
of Fight, but I was so absorbed by process that vaguely felt pain. And when time to make an effort came, pain receded absolutely - succeeded euphoria, feeling as though I clambered on mountain top. Deep breath... Even stronger... Still slightly - slightly... Exhalation... Breath... It is a little more... Here it, top!
Having seen the kid, we with the husband at the same time joyfully screamed. The tiny lump lay at me on a stomach, twirled extensively by a head, looking for the slightly opened mouth a breast, and ridiculously cheeped. I ironed the kid on a warm, damp thin skin and not at once noticed that the husband standing nearby and wiping eyes, wet from tears, unexpectedly turned pale and strained. And the doctor with the anxious and serious look began to feel my stomach.
- What happened?
- Bleeding. The uterus is not reduced. Let`s conduct manual examination under the general anesthesia now.
Strangely enough, me was frightened any more not by(with) bleeding, and the fact that to me will enter an anesthesia now (I to horror am afraid of the general anesthesia and besides badly I transfer it). So far I by a weak voice begged the doctor “not to do it“ (what she reasonably answered that “it is not jokes“) the anesthesia began to work... But awakening was unexpectedly pleasant.I Come up
from a stream of hallucinations, before eyes everything floats, and in this fog I see the husband who holds the kid on hands. I long could not think that it. Dream? Or next hallucination? Later the husband told that I very long and ridiculously asked: “Where I? What was it? I what, gave rise?“ And only after a while, having finally woken up, remembered: it is not a dream, not a hallucination - I indeed gave rise. Also it became so joyful at heart!
my First intelligent phrase which I said (more true, murmured the language which is braided from an anesthesia) was:“ It is similar to Olka“. The husband investigated my mutter and right there lit up: “Means, on me too“. The second intelligent phrase was: “And it is possible to feed?“ The kid put to me on a breast, I heard an assessment
- Mummy, - joyfully reported Olechka, embracing the little brother. - I understood! Children at first appear in dream, then in a stomach, and then - in maternity hospital!
Ya stroked both kids... Also remembered the dream. The dream which I saw shortly before pregnancy. The boy from a dream was as like as two peas similar to Olechka. And actually they were absolutely different! Olechka - thin, with light-a fair hair and gray eyes. Vova is the dark-haired brown-eyed robust fellow. And on character are not similar at all: Olya cheerful and cheerful as the sun, and Vova from the first days has lives very serious and thoughtful eyes. What they different and as it is healthy!