The March of a New Man
On the first day of March, two nurses frantically wiped me down clear of the warm amniotic fluid I lived in for nine months, oblivious of my screams. The room was very cold, very loud, and very bright. Everyone around me had smiles on their faces and a gentleman with average height (who seemed to be struggling in maintaining his weight) stood afar video taping the whole ordeal. A woman strapped on a table appeared to be in discomfort. The nurse carried me over to the woman and the man called over for her to look in my direction. She set eyes on me and teared.
I was put in a diaper, wrapped in two blankets and placed in the arms of the man who sat by the head of the woman. The woman couldn’t stop looking at me and her eyes remained teary.
After a while I was transferred to a corner of a huge room but was surrounded by curtains. They kept asking the woman if she can move her legs Read the rest of this entry