"Little feet in memory, small mouth with fleshy mouth ..." Every time I hear these lyrics, my daughter's fleshy little body, small mouth with fleshy mouth, and small feet with big palms will emerge in my mind.
In the memory lens, I brought my daughter's picture closer. Everything was so clear and so close, as if it was yesterday.
Eleven years ago in the autumn, I finally got pregnant after six years of infertility after marriage. The moment the doctor told me, the joy was really indescribable. I immediately bought a book about prenatal education and read it. I tried to follow the instructions in the book.
How time flies. In a blink of an eye, my daughter has been camping in my stomach for almost eight months. First, she is old. Second, she is a twin. My body has a serious abnormal reaction: edema, high blood pressure and difficulty breathing. Every day is hard for me. At my repeated request, my husband and family accompanied me to the hospital for an early caesarean section. Through the B-ultrasound examination, the doctor said that according to the diameter of the baby's head, the big one can be done, and the small one is a little smaller. You'd better come back in a week. Otherwise, it will be troublesome to take it out and live in pediatrics. When the doctor said this, it was the first day of April in the lunar calendar and the nineteenth day of May in the solar calendar.
One week, it was really hard for me. The doctor prescribed some fluids for pregnancy-induced hypertension at home, and I live near my father's work. On the seventh day of April, it's only been six days, but I feel that time has passed so long. This morning, we went to the hospital to stay. The doctor said the operation was scheduled for the next day. I want my daughter to be born on the ninth day and ask the doctor if I can postpone it for another day. The doctor said that she had something to do and had to do it tomorrow.
I told my husband that I wanted to eat some watermelon before caesarean section, otherwise I wouldn't be able to eat it after confinement. In the afternoon, my husband went to buy me a watermelon.
On the eighth day of April and the 26th of May in the solar calendar, I woke up early and asked my husband to accompany me to take a bath. Didn't my husband say that he had just washed it at home? Not dirty, no need to wash. I'm afraid of the rule that we are not allowed to wash our hair next month. I can't imagine how uncomfortable it would be not to wash your hair and bathe for a month! So, regardless of my husband's block, I struggled to get pregnant and walked into the street. It's too early. The shop hasn't opened yet. I searched several bathhouses in a row, but none of them opened. Accompany my husband to urge me to go back again and again, saying which bathhouse opens in the early morning? But the thought of not taking a bath or washing my hair for a month made me determined to go to the bathhouse. Finally, I saw a small bathhouse with the door open, so I hurried in. The man who opened the door said it was closed now. He opened the door early to send his children to school. I told him about my situation and he said I would make an exception for you.
Back to the hospital after taking a shower, the doctor has informed the operation.
Lying in the operating car and being pushed into the operating room, the feeling in my heart is to welcome the arrival of this little life, not afraid of anything.
After injecting anesthetic into the spine, the operation began after a short pause. Because it is local anesthesia, I know everything and hear everything. I heard the sound of a scalpel stabbing the skin and the sound of tweezers colliding. Although it is anesthesia, it still hurts when cutting.
The doctor was busy for a while, and heard the doctor who was monitoring my heart and blood pressure in my head say that at 9 o'clock 12, the boss came out; Then he said, 9: 15, the second child came out. Hearing two babies crying at different heights, I can't help but sigh the magic of life. It's only been less than eight months since I knew I was pregnant. They, my daughters, actually sent out their loud cries in this world, announcing their arrival.
I heard the doctor say that the blue bedding is wrapped around the boss, and the green one is the second child. She took it back to the ward, and her mother-in-law tied a red line on her boss's wrist to avoid confusion.
Three nights, the nurse came over and said that she was too busy to let the child weigh. The boss is four catties and ninety-two and the second is four catties and forty-two.
Hungry, crying, thirsty, crying, even can't sleep, nothing to do, crying, this is the language that the newborn daughter communicates with the world.
My husband showed me one by one. I watched carefully. That white, square face, long eyelashes and straight nose is the boss, my eldest daughter; The one with dark skin, square face and flat nose is the second child, my little daughter. From then on, we are mother and daughter. They are in my life and I am in their life. No matter how the years will change, what will never change is that this blood is thicker than water.
In my spare time, I often look at my daughters and their five senses. I often wonder who decorated their facial features. The mouth, eyes, eyelashes and eyelids look like masterpieces made by a craftsman.
Life is magical. I thought so in my mind more than once.
I thought of myself. When my mother was pregnant with me, she must have great expectations for me as the third child. She dreamed that it belonged to a son. However, I am still a daughter. Life is so artificial, but it is impossible for people.
Small body in memory
Because the two daughters have only been held out for less than a month, they have little meat and are thin, and their knees are covered with wrinkled skin like old people. The next month, I wrapped them in diapers and gave them to anyone who needed milk. The eldest eats more, and the second eats less. Obviously, the weight of the boss is increasing day by day, and the weight of the second child is not as obvious as that of the boss. Weigh yourself at the full moon, with the eldest weighing eight pounds and the second weighing six pounds.
Since the full moon, children have been like the saying goes, "Children are like tender pumpkins, even one day". Children grow up so fast. A month or two later, both of them are fleshy, especially the boss, holding the whole piece of meat in his hand.
Although I stopped breastfeeding for physical reasons when my child was less than three months old, the child quickly adapted to eating milk powder and grew up quickly. I remember when I was three or four months old, my neighbors praised my two children for their delicious meat, especially the boss. The meat on his little arm is gourd-shaped, very fat and really cute.
Small mouth in memory
The boss's mouth is angular, and it is a thick gap when closed. When he laughs, his mouth is square, even his tongue is square. Crying is a "wow" sound, loud, powerful and blunt, much like a boy, but it is still obviously different from a boy, and there are obviously soft elements in a girl's voice.
The second child's mouth is flat, and when it is closed, it is a slit like a thin line. It has a round smile and a sharp tongue. The crying is "uh-huh", and the continuous "uh-huh" sound is sharp and loud, which sounds like calling grandma. Nowadays, the sounds from the mouths of 10-and-a-half-year-old daughters are ever-changing, but the sound that remains in the deepest memory is still the most disgusting sound from the meaty mouth: the "wow" sound of the eldest daughter and the "uh-huh" sound of the younger daughter. The small mouth is still the small mouth in memory, and the beautiful voice is still the voice in memory.
The little hand in memory
Once upon a time, I touched my daughter's little palm and little finger and often lamented the magic of life. I often wonder who helped her little finger separate them. Such a small palm, such a small finger. Is there anything like giving birth to a grandmother as the old people say? Grandma sent the baby to help them rub it, right?
My little daughter always scratches her face with those little hands, and there are always scratches on her face. Especially the lively penis, there are more scars on the face. I have no choice but to put small gloves on them.
I don't know when my daughters can drink milk and eat cookies with their little hands. When I was one year old, the boss grabbed the bowl and spoon from me with his little hand and ate it himself. However, due to uncoordinated movements, very few can be sent to her mouth, and most of them flow away along the water film around her chest. Now my daughter's hand is gone. Not only can she write and play the piano, but she can even sew her own cracked trousers. But I remember my daughter's hand as the little paw that danced around.
Little feet in memory
After the daughters were born, their little feet were printed on the birth certificate prepared by the doctor. What small feet! The thumb is so big that the little toes are scattered on the toes.
Today, my daughter's feet can wear size 37 shoes, and she is not tired of climbing and jumping. In my memory, the little feet of my two daughters are still black and thin, and a pair is white and slightly larger.
Fat little body, fleshy mouth, long eyelashes, beautiful double eyelids, magical little paws, little feet ... all these once made me feel extremely surprised and magical, and lamented the wonder of life again and again, as if it were just yesterday.
However, I don't know when my eyes have fine wrinkles and my head has white hair-signs of aging have quietly come to me. That white hair actually scared me for a while. I quickly asked my daughter if I was old, and her daughter said, no! I asked them to help me find the white hair in my hair, but they didn't find it.
White hair was conceived in such a casual day, and my daughter grew up in such a casual day. Many times, I will have hallucinations in my mind, and suddenly I feel that my daughter is still young and I am still very young. Then, suddenly, it seems like this: my daughter's height is 1.5 meters, and I became a real middle-aged woman. The thousands of days and nights I grew up with my daughter will have faults in my memory, as if I had cut that time.
Actually, how fair time is! I seem to grow old inadvertently, and the days when my daughter grew up inadvertently really existed, slipping through the long river of life like the old days.
New life comes all the time, and withered flower of life withers all the time. People touch time on the way of birth, illness and death, and feel everything that time has given us. ...