Yes, it’s all about me!
I recall those days of my early youth when, knee-high to a protozoa, I floated lazily down the long, dark corridor that would soon be my home. I could not have know then, of course, that there was a whole other world awaiting me on the outside of my cozy little 1-womb home. How could I? I was little more than a pulsating blob of tissue then, stuck inside a wetworld that could never be fully explored, largely because of the pronounced absence of limbs or organs that seemed to afflict me in those dark times.
The days were long then — hours upon hours spent listening to the beat of a thunderous heart and with nothing to do except for those few blissful moments of entertainment kicking at a swollen bladder. What is an embryo to do? (See my tips and tricks if you’re looking for ideas). I did what any multi-cellular organism would do under the circumstances: I grew, and grew and grew. Until the Great Exodus.
I was born on December 5, 2003 sometime after my host’s supper. I know this because there was a rush of nutrients before the moment of eviction from my home. At first, it was just a bit of discomfort that I attributed to yet another of my hosts’ swollen organs. But this time it was different…the organs seemed to be pushing in unison, then stopping. I sensed I was about to begin a long journey…perhaps even a new adventure! Inside my wetworld there was an unusual murkiness that seemed foreboding and troublesome. I prepared myself for the journey. But then, something strange happened.
As I moved into position ready to swim towards the light, the sky ripped open and some giant device or creature reached into to my very private space, wrapped its tentacles around me and pulled me right out of my wetworld right into a cold, bright and horribly dry environment. It was a moment of unspeakable terror. Instinctively I screamed but nothing came out. Blood rushed to my head as I was swung upside down towards some kind of measuring device. I heard sounds, like the sounds I heard before the Exodus but louder, clearer, less musical. Something struck me from behind and I coughed and found I could scream now. So I did.
It worked. Suddenly I was wrapped in blankets and placed in close proximity to familiarity…soothing sounds (voices, it turns out) that I had grown accustomed to. In this dryworld, I was heavier and moving required more effort…I grew tired quickly. Though terrified, I felt some comfort hearing familiar sounds again. Soon I was fast asleep.
While 2003 was little more than a blur with sound effects, 2004 came in like gang-busters. For one thing, I could see … opening my eyes really, uh, opened my eyes. Read my blog to see the blow-by-blow tribulations of life after birth.