The pregnancy went on with great difficulty. From the beginning I had serious toxicosis. He suffered immensely, afraid for me. Once, seeing how bad I was, he said, “We can go and get an abortion, since you are so ill.” I know that for the sake of me he was ready to deprive himself of a son, but I could not do it, I wanted to have our son, a child with him. He kissed me and said. “I love you, my one and only. Only you can put up with all this, and I am glad that you are mine and are carrying my little one.” I understood his words and how my wonderful, darling, beloved man cherished and understood everything. And what happiness it was to be with such a man.
Our money situation deteriorated, but we nevertheless got ready to travel to Sergei’s homeland, the Ukraine. He very much wanted to acquaint me with his relatives and acquaintances so that they could see me as his wife.
When we met, he told them alclass="underline" “This is my beloved woman”, but after we were married my introduction became: “This is my lovely wife.” The word ‘wife’ began to sound to me like music.
I liked being his wife. He was proud and boasted of his family. He loved us, both me and my daughter.
We relaxed wonderfully and at Sergei’s house I liked it very much: kind, good parents, remarkable, sincere friends. We stayed in the Ukraine two whole weeks, but we had to return. My daughter Lena had to go to her first class.
We quickly decided the question of the adoption of Elena by Sergei and he officially became her father. When she was put on his passport he ran to show everyone that he had a daughter. Lena began school with a new surname and patronymic; she loved her father very much. He did everything for her: she went to the best school. She became our daughter, but he was the father, the only real father to her.
The contractions had begun two weeks earlier. Sergei and I consulted a doctor, and we were advised to go to the hospital immediately. Toxicosis was there from beginning to end. I hadn’t put on weight and my strength had gone. He suffered terribly, but he didn’t lose confidence that we would have a son, a son, only a son. The ultrasound confirmed that was a boy and even took a photograph of him. Sergei showed it to everybody although there was nothing there to see.
Labor was long and hard, but on the next day at 18:45 I gave birth to our son Alexander – Sasha for short. They didn’t give out any information on my condition for a long time, because for a long time it was critical.
For some reason they told Sergei that he had a daughter. The nurse who told him this heard a flow of oaths and curses: he was in shock, offended at everyone and everything. He only needed a son: after 20 minutes he was called at home and apologetically told that he had a son: weight 3.9 kilos, height, 53 centimeters. He said that life came back to him at this moment. His happiness was boundless, he loved us, and we felt this from afar.
Sergei had to drive to earn money: We didn’t have much to live on. But I had to eat well. He worked nights and in the day he spent it all and brought me food in the maternity hospital. He fed our daughter at home and sent her to school. He had all the responsibility. We were discharged on October 14. He met us with an armful of roses and was the happiest father in the world. We lived like friends, and the problems of life only made our marriage stronger; we never quarreled over money. Little Sasha brought still more respect and warmth into our relationship. Probably, this is the greatest happiness there is.
We always had many friends, and they often came over. Little Sasha was surrounded by people from the very beginning. We watched our youngster grow and were pleased: we were so happy because we were together, that we had a son and a daughter. All the adversities, which descended upon us, passed us by, and our bond was tighter, our love was stronger.
On April 18th 1998 Sergei was 34 years old. We celebrated his birthday at home. Early in the morning, I placed a beautifully packaged box on his pillow. Inside was a watch – one that he really liked. Titanium. He had wanted it forever. I was glad that I had been able to earn the money and run down to the shop the night before…
He liked the watch immensely. The whole day he boasted and showed off – he was someone who could pull it off without being offensive. He kept and cared for this gift until the end of his life.
At the end of May, Sergei’s health declined, and pains in his stomach began to intensify. On the right side of it, a lump swelled up. The pain had been there before, but he had not eaten anything and it had passed. In 1989, Sergey had been part of a decontamination team at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant disaster. When, twelve years later, the pain began to disturb him constantly, he went to the Chernobyl polyclinic, where he got an order for an otoscopy. It couldn’t be done in the polyclinic, he had to go to the hospital. He really didn’t want to go to the hospital, and was scared. We phoned various different medical centers to check, but they all said that this barium X ray was only available at the hospital. Sergei lay in hospital. They didn’t examine him and they didn’t even make an appointment for the X ray but only removed a polyp, which had appeared in a completely different place. The doctor simply didn’t get to the source of the pain, because the patient was badly prepared for the operation. Sergei lay in hospital for three weeks. The first time I visited him was on the day of the operation and I was frightened: he was pale green in color and thoroughly worn out. I brought him a basket of roses. He looked after them, watered them. After that I came every day. Before he was discharged I went up to his doctor and asked what the worst could be. The answer came, like a storm cloud in a clear sky. It could be cancer.
The earth went from under my feet, and all the colors of the earth grew dim. But behind me, just five meters away, stood Sergey. So I collected my strength and went up to him with a smile.
“Everything is fine, it is a polyp. In the autumn, they’ll do everything and take care of you for good.”
I did not know what to do. I drove out bad thoughts. However, looking truth in the face, I had to admit it: when he came home from the hospital, his condition was rather worse than when he had gone in. He had grown very thin and the pains had increased. In hospitals they had started spring‑cleaning and you couldn’t get in.
Summer came. He wasn’t happy any more. We didn’t go anywhere. Twice we went to the town, but he felt ill and we had to come back again. We waited for the autumn. On September 8 Sergei was put on a therapy program at the same hospital, and on the next day the first X ray was taken. Afterwards he was moved to the surgery department and I was summoned to the doctor.
I came to the doctor with our son. We sat in the office of the head of the department. He looked at me and asked, “Have you guessed what is wrong with your husband? Do you know anything about his condition?”
Yes, I knew Sergei had cancer. The diagnosis confirmed this, but what stage it was at, and what we should expect, the doctor could only say after the operation. And again, when I saw Sergei, I smiled and said that everything was okay, there was nothing to worry about, we were together.
The operation was set for September 17. In two days time was my birthday. I cried – I could not believe that my Sergei had cancer. No, everything would be okay, I believed. Everything would be fine.
It is a terrible feeling when everything inside is breaking; you want tear out your hair and cry out. But there is no way out.
I visited to him every day. We had things to talk about and we simply loved being together. We liked the doctor. He was the same age as Sergei, very pleasant and attentive.
On the day of the operation, I arrived towards one in the afternoon. The operation was scheduled for the morning. When I went into the ward, I was told that they had just taken him to the operating room. Ten minutes went by. Time went slowly, it was terrible and unsettling. I sat in the hall, with tears flowing, it was so painful.