– You gave birth to four? Take them and figure it out yourself, this is too much! – my husband said to me, barely crossing the threshold.
I looked at him without blinking.
My head was empty.
Labor lasted 18 hours. The flickering light of hospital lamps. The screams of midwives.
My scream, tearing apart the border between life and death.
When the first baby – Petya – was born, I thought that this was the end of the road, I fell into oblivion, although I knew that more would follow. But Masha appeared after him. Then Lena.
And, finally, Oleg.
Sergey stood at the front door of our house, without taking off his outerwear. In his hand – a bottle. Drops from it fell on the worn floor, but I did not care at all.
— I didn’t agree on this, — he continued, avoiding looking at the children.
— I wanted a normal family. Not… this.
“This” — were our offspring. Our flesh and blood.
Our eyes, noses, fingers.
Village women give birth in pairs — already an event. Three — a topic of conversation for many years. Four…
“How are you going to feed them?” — Sergey nervously ran his hand through his hair.
— Where will we get the money? Who will look after them?
I was silent. The children were sleeping.
The world narrowed to a small room with four cradles, made by my father in one sleepless night.
“Tanya, do you hear?” — he raised his voice.
“You knew and were ready, and now you’re saying this? Go away,” I said quietly. “Just disappear.”
Sergey froze.
Then he shook his head:
“You’re crazy. Four children. My God.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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