“Look, Daddy, I can see the head!”
It's so far. After having had contractions for almost a week in my own sense, I know the time has come. Of course in the middle of the night. It's a nice timing. The obstetrician rolls up her sleeves. 'Nice, full access! ' The real work begins.
I roar half the world together.
“Shh, “my husband says. He doesn't want our three-year-old son to wake up by my primal screams. But the injustice has already been done, a little boy rubbing his eyes comes to take pole height. When my husband wants to force him to leave with a soft hand, the obstetrician stops it.
'Let him take a look at his mother, he is awake now and most likely will get himself all kinds of things in his head. '
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