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Yeah, I’m still young, but to tell the truth, I've been wondering my whole life if I should act or if I’d better wait.

“Waiting for who or what?” you might ask. Good question, I’ve always wondered that too.

But let's go back to the beginning, and maybe together we can shed some light on it.

 

Thirty-nine weeks spent great:

no doubt about who I was, the firstborn;

no doubt about the sex, male;

no doubt about what I would do one day, great things…, most probably, this was my parent’s idea.

 

So, to make it short, I was ready for the great leap into the void.

I had sent signals to all my acquaintances:

“Keep yourselves free in the next few days, I'm on my way! Make yourself available on this day at this time”.

And as you know, silence implies consent.

 

Then, the fateful day arrived but, at the stroke of the scheduled time… nothing happened. That is, no crannies from which to peek, no blinding light to guide me out. In short, there was no sign that the party was starting.

From somewhere, I had heard of a guy, Ali Baba, probably locked up in a uterus like me, who after several attempts to get out found a magic formula.

 

“Open, Sesame!” I screamed, not knowing what I was saying. The result was only a few jolts, nothing else.

 

You shouldn’t think I gave up on the first try, but the more I insisted the more resistance I encountered.

For the first time, I was scared, all my confidence and good intentions were dissolving like snow in the sun (not that at that time I knew what the sun and the snow were).

 

"What do I do now?"

Well, I decided to wait, and wait, and…wait.

And the more time passed, the more my anxiety and fear grew. The only consolation was that the food supply had not been cut. As long as there was food, there was life.

 

A week later, when I had lost almost all hope, a miracle happened: the water broke, the light passed through the crack, and great tremors shook the walls.

In short, all hell broke loose!

"What do I do now? I'll wait, that's what I'll do, and see what happens."

 

Confused? And how not to be. So, it seems that the Big Boss, a cave-opening expert, had decided that I wasn't sick enough to stick the key in, get me out of there, and saddle me with the health card of sick among the sick. 

What an odd decision, was I too healthy to be let out of the cave? If this is the future that awaits me, I don’t know if I want to become an adult.

Just an impartial advice to women in labor: if you are healthy, don’t go to see that doctor!

 

Anyways, seven days later, he gave the go-ahead for the demining and unblocking of my only way out.

They say that the labor was long and tiring for my mother because I had no intention of coming out; after all, when I was ready they were not, and when I was getting organized with the increasingly narrow spaces, they made up their minds and pretended that I jumped out on cue.

 

"What do I do now? I'll wait, that's what I'll do, and see what happens."

...

Extract from the book “We Cannot Escape from Ourselves”.​​