The mysteries within my stomach

I am putting together the most complicated mechanism known and I’m doing it without a manual or prior experience. I’m creating a little human being as I’m typing this line. And it’s nothing like anything. We live within the physical limits of our body but are hardly ever aware of those limits. It’s a porous boundary that expands as we indulge and contracts as we punish.

Only a pregnancy makes you truly aware of your body. And I am not talking about the physical discomforts of a pregnant body.

I mean the sheer science and logic behind creating life. The way my uterus, that once snugly fit into my pelvis, has grown in stature within it’s world a.k.a my abdomen; the way the other organs that inhabit this cavity have made space for the ballooning life inside…And how there are still some secrets to making life that science hasn’t unravelled. Like the actual chemistry of the amniotic fluid that surrounds the fetus within the womb; the exact trigger for labour; or what odds decide if a baby would be a boy or a girl…

It is a process that engulfs you leaving nothing but a changed environment. And if you are someone who wasn’t really planning on getting pregnant then this is most definitely the turning point in your life. Say hello.

You move from being terrified to guilty to resentful to accepting to resentful then back to guilty. And then out of nowhere comes the excitement of the first ever kick or flutter.

That is a moment that I have not been able to forget despite being someone with a notorious grasp on events. It is a sensation so alien to you that your mind is scrambling to make sense of it. I was at work when I felt the lightest swirl within me and I was embarassed at first…I thought I had farted. Yes.

Then my mind went back to all the times I ever farted and decided no, that wasn’t a fart. Then, was it a burp? Am I just plainly hungry? No and no. And then finally I remembered that I was at that time in my pregnancy when I am supposed to begin feeling the presence inside me. Philosophical as that sounds, it was simply the first time I was introduced to my baby…and it was definitely the moment that set off my transformation for good.

That moment makes the whole affair so real. You have just been kicked from within!

There is someone alive within you and that isn’t something you can ignore or wish away anymore!

You become slave to that little squirmer within your innards and in a few months you even get instructed to keep a daily count of the number of times you get kicked.

You have been scientifically convinced that this person within you can hear you now… and you are watching what’s coming out of your mouth like never before; you hear any soppy crap about motherhood and you are surprised by how close you are to bawling your guts out; all of a sudden you are in the clutches of superstitions and old wives tales and you find yourself losing any rationality you might have been proud of pre-pregnancy.

You have been defeated in this war and very soon a new existence will be carved for you by your conqueror.

This is a war between your old self and your future as a new species called Mother. And this war is happening on the battleground of your body and soul. And it is the only war where every woman knows or at least suspects she is headed for colossal defeat. These nine to ten months are her last moments with life as she knew and understood.

I am now in the very last month of my metamorphosis into a mother. I am now reminded of a time when I believed I was infertile (without any tangible proof that I was actually barren); there was another time when I was so terrified of pregnancy and labour talk (by women who were already mothers) that I begged people to stop; and then there is now when both those fears seem obscure. I am carrying my child inside me and I am getting ready for the challenge of giving birth. But it is not fear that fuels my preparation. Just good old conviction.

I have never been more alive than now; I am never alone — and I wouldn’t ever be complete without this extension of me. Cliched as it sounds, I am headed towards a life or death situation and I hope my body has the reserves to come out alive.

And then, there will be a baby and its mother. Not me.