I could hear my mother’s heartbeat in the womb—
steady, rhythmic, soothing.
I was supplied oxygen and nutrient-rich blood,
while carbon dioxide and urea were removed
through the lifeline between me and my mother.
I was growing, and after about
forty weeks in the womb, I came out.
The outside world was a shock to me—
loud noises and bright lights terrified me.
Then I was placed on something soft
and heard the familiar rhythmic beat.
Someone guided my mouth to warmth,
and I began to suck.
I got my first taste of food: mother’s milk.
It tasted sweet, and I loved it,
drinking whenever I could.
For the next six months, it was my food.
The skin-to-skin time with my mother was soothing,
as I could hear her heartbeat.
As I grew older, I was given other foods too,
but nothing tasted like breast milk.
I didn’t want to grow,
but that is the law of nature.
So I try to enjoy the closeness
and the milk as long as I can.
