Читать книгу I am your woman! - Julia Rudenko - Страница 9

The rhythm of time came out of the hospital staff lounge distinctly and monotonously. The ward-door was ajar. Dasha Sviridenko hated the rest-time since childhood, since her mother had to take her out of the day-nursery because she was constantly ill. She wasn’t asleep alone in the ward. She tried to plan beforehand the forthcoming mysterious event – the sacrament of the childbirth. Sometimes she took her knitting-needles – the panties were nearly ready.

The clock struck four, when the bottom of her stomach became unusually wet. There was no pain but Dasha got frightened. Perhaps her child was eager to be born. Dasha didn’t dare to wake up any of her ward-mates. She stood up in silence and hurried to the exit. According to her calculations there were 2 days left before the supposed date of confinement. An obstetrician nurse examined her lying in the armchair and shook her head:

– The amniotic fluid has gone. So you’ll bear drily.

To bear normally, without a Cesarean section was impossible for Dasha. 13 hours later Dasha exhausted by birth pangs and nearly unconscious was shown to the surgery. A medical brigade was sent for. Tatyana, a reanimation nurse who used to be Dasha’s classmate came up to her, tortured by numerous injections, and whispered tenderly:

– A good doctor will operate you! I told him: «Don’t cut our beauty too much!

Tatyana smiled and stepped aside.

– Well, where is your little vein? Do make a fist! – the anaesthesiologist said to Dasha flirting with one of the nurses. Almost all in the surgery knew they were lovers. Dasha also knew that. So it was nice for her to fall asleep surrounded with the fluids of secret love floating over her. She closed her eyes. The anaesthesiologist’s last words: «Dasha, count up to 10!» – sounded as if in the microphone, then dissolved like an echo in the mountains. She was smiling full of trust towards the doctor.The she fell asleep…

Though Cadet Sviridenko was preparing himself to the forthcoming change in his life, the telegram about it was all of a sudden for him. It came like a bolt from the blue. He was shocked. What to do? Where to go? What to speak and to whom? «Son born.» His son was born. HE… HAS …A SON!!! No! – can it be? Maybe it’s just a mistake. Is it real? Maybe, it’s merely a dream. Perhaps, some other man became a father. SON! He is a father now, isn’t he? What does it mean – father? What does it mean – son? It happens time and again. But could it happen with him. At that moment he was eager to be a free poet, to die young like Pushkin? And now he has a son! It’s time to write a cradle song – that’s what he must do! He went to the company commander. An hour later Cadet Sviridenko got a leave warrant for a day.

Arriving in Rostov, he headed for the local maternity hospital. But he wasn’t allowed to his wife. He wrote her a message and went to his mother-in-law. She cried nervously at him: «You’d better buy flowers! Daddy!».

Then he was silent – Dasha’s mother was calling the shots around:

– Wash your hands! Change!

He was exhausted by her commands completely. Why doesn’t she realize? His son was born! He became a father! Not she!

When she was ironing diapers hurriedly to carry them to the maternity hospital as soon as possible and asked him to do something again he threw on his jacket and was off. Cadet Sviridenko spent a night under the hospital windows. The words of a cradle song occurred to him. He wrote them down on a sheet of paper.

In the morning he returned to his military school. «I have a son!».