Before Fifi was born, we took several childbirth classes and learned in awe how baby is born. Every time I watched the raw footage of labor in documentaries, I had to brink away my tears the moment the baby was pushed out of the exhausted and excited mothers. I imagined how monumental the moment will be when it comes to me- how emotionally overwhelmed I will be. And then, the moment came- Fifi finally slided out, after 22 hours of labor, covered in blood and fluid, and the nurse pushed her firmly into my arms. She didn’t cry out really loud, instead, she’s whining like a little cone-headed animal, wounded all over, after a long and lonely journey, soft, warm, moist and sticky, a tiny piece of pink flesh, with temperature and breath. I looked at her, like looking at a extraterrestrial creature falling onto my arms from outer space, not feeling it’s coming out of my own body. All other possible emotions at that moment are submerged by suspicion and curiosity. I, looking at this most strange creature of all, with my most fresh eyes, like another new-born in the birth room… Then nurses took her away for cleaning and measuring. I heard her crying a little harder, which reminded me that I had not wept with excitement yet-like I had always envisioned. Nonetheless, the moment is gone.
* Fifi was born March 2nd, 2007, a week before her due date.