I am running a race. A race to create a life. A life which spreads happiness. I am running with a huge crowd. As huge that you will never believe the number. I am one among 200 million. Yes, 200 million. Isn’t it a huge crowd after all? But the number doesn’t matter as ultimately only ONE will be crowned the winner.
Now where are we running to? It is to reach an egg. A single egg, which is desired by every one of us. Why is it so special? Because it has the power of creating a life. A life which has an eminent value. So where are we running? We are running in a maze. A beautiful maze built by the nature, where we encounter different obstacles at every single twist and turn. How do we know the route then? No, We don’t. We travel only with hopes that we will reach the egg. Only sheer luck helps us to find the egg hidden in the maze. We take a wrong path, we are out of the game. We reach a little late, we are out of the game. We hit an obstacle, we are out of the game. But today one lucky winner won the ‘super duper lottery’ – the egg. And that’s me. And I am the sperm.
Now I am a tiny little creature, more fluidly- fluid than a solid. I float around my mother’s womb playing hide and seek. Whenever I feel hungry, I steal my mom’s food, without her having the slightest hint of it. I love this new surroundings as it is protective, warm and cozy.
Days pass and I eat a lot of new food. Ultimately I grow up and now my mom finds out about me- ‘the little culprit’ who stole all her food. But she isn’t angry on me. Indeed she is very happy. I can feel her warmth and love towards me. I have not seen my mother’s face yet. I don’t know if she is rich or poor, tall or short, lean or stout, but still I know that I love her.
Days pass on and I develop tiny hands and fingers. There beats my tiny heart ‘lub-tub-lub-tub’ playing a sweet lullaby making me sleep all along. Now that I can’t swim around, I kick my mom’s belly and play with her. She feels the pain, but still enjoys it. My mom takes care of me so well, and so much touched by it, I make a wish to the God ‘Let me see my mom’s face first once I enter the world’.
And finally the day comes, when I am over grown to still fit in my mom’s tummy. I feel the need to come out and start kicking my way out. She feels pain agonizing her body and I am guilty for hurting her. I know that she is crying and I wish I were there in front of her to wipe off her tears. Moments pass and now I can feel that something is terribly wrong. The once safe and cozy womb is no more so. I feel suffocated. I feel the panic in her and rush to get out of her body. I kick, I push, I use every tiny bit of my energy to get out of her. Then I hear her scream, a loud scream. I am out of her body!
I wanted to cry, but didn’t. I wanted to kick, but couldn’t. In the hard game of getting out, I forgot to breathe. And now I am floating again. But the hardest thing is that, I still didn’t see my mom’s face.
P.S: I dedicate this article for every women who had had a miscarriage. The hardest thing in the world is losing your loved ones. And a child is always special for every mom. Your baby loves you even before it sees you. Please avoid aborting those little creatures unless it is indomitably needed. There are still a lot of petty villages where pregnancy labor is still done without doctors. If a doctor’s sole aim is to save lives, women in petty villages are lives too! I can blame any of these reasons for what happened above. But a blame always remains a blame, untouched, until it creates an impact. Hoping this created an impact…