Armen Ashotyan

A small, still senseless, but inexpressibly beautiful and dear face was looking at her. A wave of pity for this helpless creature swept over her.

With a quiet, involuntarily escaped exclamation, “You are my dear!” she pressed this little body to her. Not embarrassed by the doctor, she released her breasts, moved the nipple to her son’s mouth.

The baby was just waiting for this — greedily clung to the nipple, smacked. Satisfied, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Amalia felt the sweet languor of satisfied maternal instinct.

Looking at this wonderful scene, the doctor and the nurse rejoiced at yet another human being, already claiming the right to life. Somewhere in their subconscious lived an unspoken pride: it, this creature, was born not without their help. The nanny took the baby to the nursery, and the doctor went into the waiting room. There, Arkady and the Boyadzhyan family were eagerly awaiting him. Congratulating his father and grandfather, the doctor admitted:

— The birth was difficult, protracted. I was about to do a caesarean section. Fortunately, it wasn’t needed.