Days came to a week one. I felt stronger. So did my two other companion slashed competitors. I had not made any attempt to communicate with my neighbors. We all seemed to be quiet and kept things to ourselves. I guessed each of us still need sometimes for adjustment with our new habitat….my mother’s womb that is. Once in a while we secretly stared from the corner of our eyes, figuring out each others state of developments. It was a little bit intimidating to comprehend that each of us would probably need to perform our best to live, grow and survive in the first few weeks ahead of us. Each of us somehow sensed that there were elements of danger around that would implicate in our early stages of survival.
Through my mother’s eyes, I discreetly peeped at the book she read, Need to Know-Pregnancy – by Harriet Sharkey. Her face expression was serious but I could feel her body relaxed. She put her feet up straight in bed supported with a pillow, and I wondered why she needed to do that. My dad was not anywhere in the room. He had gone down to the hotel’s restaurant downstairs for breakfast while my mother insisted to have ‘breakfast in bed’’, and by that it would apply to ‘lunch’ and ‘dinner’ as well. She was still determined to obey the “bed-rest” totally. My mother flipped and glanced at the pages of the book in her hand leisurely and then stopped at page 63.
Your partner ejaculates as many as 300 million sperms as you make love. Only one will unite with your egg. The instant the strongest sperm reach your egg is the first decisive moment in your future baby’s life. Whoa! 300 millions? That was shocking news! That shocked me at least. That maybe shocked the other two companions too. My mother’s doctor and his team must have been really tough jury in selecting process of whose going to end up at the jar for the IVF session. I felt triumph and exaltation in my conscience and for a split second I could feel goose-bumps all over the flat surface form of my existence. I was chosen. Together with the other two companion.
It was once though that sperm penetrated the outer coating of the egg by realizing enzymes. Today, science suggests an egg opens its outer membrane and embraces a single sperm. Could it be that egg and sperm select each other? Well…I could tell you now that in my case and my two other companion’s that obviously was not how it worked. We were selected prior to that process and by the current available technological innovation we were chosen to by-passed the sexy conservative ritual. I glanced at my mother’s face as I heard her heaved a soft sigh while her hands lifted and adjusted her spectacles and read on.
Once inside, your partner’s sperm sheds its tail and body and its head fuses with your egg’s nucleus. The new cell that is created is called zygote. Aha!, so…that what they called me at this stage…a zygote. That was kind of a cute name….zygote, and I guessed I would be zygote number one, and the other two would by zygote number two and zygote number three. I wondered if that was the order of the numbering. I would hope so since I was the first to take up residence at my mother’s womb. But did it matter? Would it make any difference? I was not convinced. There should be more to it than just numbering. We would need to demonstrate growth and development for one thing. We would need to upgrade our status from zygote to….hmm…what would be next?
Your body adapts to provide the nutrition and protection your baby needs, and your growing baby is primed to get the very best from the womb environment. Nature works in you favor, and what you eat, how you feel, what’s happening in your life also have an effect. Ok…I see…the next determining factors of what we become would be my mother’s womb and how well she would nurture her mental and physical condition. So far I felt comfy and homely inside. I don’t know what the others would say, but looking at their forms, they came to a good start as well. I would say we were all would have the same percentage of survival here. On our part, the determining factor would be how much we would like to succeed.
Unexpectedly I felt my head spinning….that of course presuming I have formed a head in my zygotty stage. I was sure my forehead, again presuming I had one already, showed lines that indicated I was thinking hard. I started to shape and strategize my plan. What would I have to do to be ahead of my other two companion slashed competitors. Where would I seek extra advises of survival. Would the doctor give me any guidance? Would my mother lend me a hand in this case? Would my dad have a clue to what should be done from now onward and forward? To keep me exist. Please…please help me.
My mother turned her body to one side of the bed, having her feet crossed the left one on top of the right ones. One of her hands reached out to the side bed table and grabbed her breakfast tray. Bacon, eggs, red beans and two slices of toasts. There was a glass of water and a glass of tomato juice on the side. Not bad. Not that my mother needed my approval, but I considered the classic basic breakfast menu was sufficient. She put down the book and stopped reading. She turned the TV on and then unhurriedly started to have a bite of the bacon.
I wish I could tell my mother to flip another page on the book and seek for more information and explanation on my participation in this course. I was curious what would happen next. I gazed to my right and left, and there I noticed two sets of eyes with the same interrogative expression pierced at my direction. Of course, we were all in this together, what was I thinking? We were here with similar interest. Of course they would be as curious as I would. They would potentially become my siblings after all. Of course we would all fight for our existences and we would all aim at winning our mother’s heart. But would I battle fairly? Should I? The answer would be.....an opportunity. And as the old saying ‘may the best man standing’ or… something like that.
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