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我的孕期是拖沓的惊险系列剧,每天一个悬念,从无一日消停。那是我第三次入院,邻床来了一对笑眯眯的小两口,对我客气地打着招呼。我敷衍地问:“孩子多少周了?”小媳妇微笑着说:“孩子没了。三十八周,胎死宫内。”我大吃一惊。他们来自赤峰小城,连去两家医院都听不到胎心,医生说:“你们赶紧去大医院。”她入院的时候,小媳妇还穿着棉拖鞋。她爷们儿说:“走得忙,没来得及给她换鞋。”
My pregnancy is procrastination thriller series, a suspense every day, from the day without stopping. That was the third time I was admitted to hospital, and next to my bed was a smiling young couple, greeting me politely. I asked perfunctoryly: “The number of weeks the child?” The little daughter smiled and said: “The child is gone. Thirty-eight weeks, fetal death.” “I was taken aback. They come from a small town in Chifeng, even the two hospitals can not hear the heart of the fetus, the doctor said: ”You go to the hospital.“ ”She was admitted to the hospital, the little girl was wearing cotton slippers. Her husband said: “Going busy, did not have time to change her shoes.”