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Monday, Vienna
-actually Tuesday, 12:30 A.M.1
October 16, 1887
Dear Mama and dear Minna
I am terribly tired and have so many letters to write, but the first must go to you. You will have heard already by telegram that we have a little daughter. She weighs nearly seven pounds, which is quite respectable, looks terribly ugly, has been sucking at her right hand from the first moment, seems otherwise to be very good-tempered and behaves as though she really feels at home here. In spite of her splendid voice she doesn't cry much, looks very happy, lies snugly in her magnificent carriage and doesn't give any impression of being upset by her great adventure. She is called Mathilde, of course, after Frau Dr. Breuer. How can one write so much about a creature only five hours old? The fact is I already love her very much, although I have not yet seen her in the daylight. She was born at 7:45.
Perhaps you are more interested in the mother. She has been so good, so brave and sweet all the way through. Not a sign of impatience or bad temper, and when she had to scream she apologized each time to the doctor and the midwife. When she woke at 3 A.M. with the first labor pains, we decided to stick it out till 5 A.M., then I fetched Dr. Lott and the midwife who lives nearby; during the day we refused all visitors, Eli and Ditta2 among them; luckily it was Sunday, no consultations, no visits to pay. At first things went very slowly. Lott pulled a long face and declared that it could last all