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Marcsi's Pregnant Mother's Plate - Szelles!


Every child's world of study carries life-long learning. The third one for me every year - a series of life surprises and the inability to plan everything. And the outcome of the birth cannot be predicted.

Before the big day, I believed that I had organized everything well. I found the perfect body and birth, I knew I wanted my son to grow up when he wanted, peacefully, in peace, in peace. However, the complications started at the time of birth, because my baby didn't want to leave me at all. Last week, after a big day, I had to go to the hospital, where we had a discussion with the chief doctor, and it would be dangerous to wait and get things started. And at 9 o'clock he broke the casing. It just seemed to miss me because they immediately became my lovely, standard five-minute galaxies. Later I learned that fifteen babies were born that day at St. Stephen's Court, so there was hardly any place for the masses of pregnant women in need. I was lucky, because barely half the room was vacated, and the one I wanted was vacant. The alternative, with a huge bar, a balustrade and a French bed. Hurrб!
Although I had planned candle making and listening to music before, there was no such thing between two of them. I was only looking for warm water and tranquility. Fortunately, I got both. We were not disturbed by a nurse or a doctor. Only my husband was there and Krmermer, my father, was born. The latter, however, is not always, and for this reason I have sometimes succeeded. But he couldn't help thinking that things were going that way. Fate meant that another baby was born just then. I admit it was difficult to share it because when he was with me, his help was invaluable. It was good when he massaged my waist, but even more were his encouraging words that we were moving nicely.
During the first two births, I died of all the deaths, and as soon as my body was spasmodic. Now, however, everything was developing in this calm environment. I didn't strain my pain, I rather imagined it flowed over me and helped me to relax. And when I felt that I could no longer love, Belgium gave me homeopathic berries that changed my pain. I could still feel the distress, but my brain simply did not take it in pain. I was able to sleep for a few minutes, making me feel stronger and fresher. So much so that I was worried after a while - was it still going on that I was not suffering so much right now? There is no denying that I was the last one to wear the last one. There was no hot water there, then I didn't want to go back. I wanted to push, but it wasn't time. She said I had two choices. Either I lie down and the baby wakes up in an hour or so, or I stand up, cling to the pool, squat a little, rock my hips, and ten minutes. The decision was not easy, because barely a dozen minutes was a missed opportunity, so I felt unable to get up. But when he succeeded, things accelerated.
I could have picked any kind of posture to pull off, but since my previous child was born lying on my back, this seemed to me the best. This is when the doctor in the room came into the room, who must be present according to the rules. I admit that without his presence, things would have gone faster. After all, I know now, he would have been in a hurry because the other doctor was in the surgery and he had to personally monitor all the other women in need, but the nausea and tension that felt inside him.
Because the move was not easy. Because I was born with a cut and very fast. When she told me I could press, I figured I'd press both, the baby out and the baby's end. I had no idea that things were going a little bit slower. Just hold it a little, hold it back, push it two smaller - the quirks like this were very strange. In addition, all of this was in front of a rigorous doctor who was looking at her and gave birth to her right now. After all, I know for a moment that the halfway out is completely normal. But I was so upset by this pic of the Doctor, that I pulled all my power together and pushed my son out. Unfortunately, we couldn't put it on my chest because the cord didn't quite do it. It was so short that it had to be done immediately. However, I drank the entire birth without any hesitation, which is why it is very crappy after all.
The little man who ran out didn't seem happy at all, because we could finally be with us. Bende was not at all resting in my arms, just yelling more and more. And he didn't stop. But he had everything - calmness, blanket, father, mother, titty. We rocked it, wrapped it tightly in a red blanket, sang the evening song. He was very afflicted by the forced evictions. I think at least that's what we complained about. He only comforted when Daddy was on our bed beside us. In between, the big windows came over and the three came, and the three of us were very happy to talk, and so we lay in an urn. Little Bende was ours only. They didn't take it to wash it, wash it, swallow its nose, drip it. These were wonderful, happy moments as I absorbed the smell of the new family member, learned all the features of her face, and enjoyed the softness of her little body. And I figured I'd give birth tomorrow to the next. I just need to convince my brother ...