"Judith Merril - That Only A Mother" - читать интересную книгу автора (Merril Judith)

have visiplates on the incubators, so the fathers could get a look, even if the poor
benighted mommas can't. They tell me I won't see her for another week, or maybe
moreтАФbut of course, mother always warned me if I didn't slow my pace, I'd
probably even have my babies too fast. Why must she always be right?
Did you meet that battle-ax of a nurse they put on her? I imagine they save her
for people who've already had theirs, and don't let her get too near the
prospectivesтАФbut a woman like that simply shouldn't be allowed in a maternity
ward. She's obsessed with mutations, can't seem to talk about anything else. Oh,
well, ours is all right, even if it was in an unholy hurry.
I'm tired. They warned me not to sit up too soon, but I had to write you. All
my love, darling,
Maggie.


February 29
Darling,
I finally got to see her? It's all true, what they say about new babies and the face
that only a mother could loveтАФbut it's all there darling, eyes, ears, and nosesтАФ no,
only oneтАФall in the right places. We're so lucky, HankтАж
I'm afraid I've been a rambunctious patient. I kept telling that hatchet-faced
female with the mutation mania that I wanted to see the baby. Finally the doctor
came in to "explain" everything to me, and talked a lot of nonsense, most of which
I'm sure no one could have understood, any more than I did. The only thing I got
out of it was that she didn't actually have to stay in the incubator; they just thought
it was "wiser."
I think I got a little hysterical at that point. Guess I was more worried than I was
willing to admit, but I threw a small fit about it. The whole business wound up with
one of those hushed medical conferences outside the door, and finally the Woman
in White said: "Well, we might as well. Maybe it'll work out better that way."
I'd heard about the way doctors and nurses in these places develop a God
complex, and believe me, it is as true figuratively as it is literally that a mother hasn't
a leg to stand on around here.
I am awfully weak, still. I'll write again soon. Love,
Maggie.
 March 8
Dearest Hank,
Well the nurse was wrong if she told you that. She's an idiot anyhow. It's a girl.
It's easier to tell with babies than with cats, and I know. How about Henrietta?
I'm home again, and busier than a betatron. They got everything mixed up at the
hospital, and I had to teach myself how to bathe her and do just about everything
else. She's getting prettier, too. When can you get a leave, a real leave?
Love,
Maggie.
May 26
Hank dear,
You should see her nowтАФand you shall. I'm sending along a reel of color
movie. My mother sent her those nighties with drawstrings all over. I put one on,
and right now she looks like a snow-white potato sack with that beautiful, beautiful
flower-face blooming on top. Is that me talking? Am I a doting mother? But wait till
you see her!