So warm. So very warm. Why am I warm? It is winter outside. Why is it so warm? Last thing I remember was coldness. Burning coldness. But now it is warm, so that is all that matters. I open my eyes. It stings and it is dark, so I close them again. Now that I pay attention to my surroundings, I feel naked. And some kind of fluid is surrounding me. I try turning to my other side... it is hard. Something is preventing me from doing it easily. A feeling of clumsiness but not really, now that I think about it. How dull. I can't even find the right word to describe the feeling. Ah, wait. I remembered the word. Helplessness. I feel helpless that I can't even turn to my other side without problems. I didn't even know I could feel such a feeling, since usually I went with the flow and didn't have any problems.
How boring. I still am in the liquid-like space. I tried stretching but quickly found my movements to be limited. So I am in a confined space with liquid. And I can't breathe. When I tried to take a deep breath, I quickly stopped, since the fluid surrounding me entered my body and made we want to cough, which I can't do either, if you are wondering. What surprised me was that I found out that I didn't need to breathe. Somehow, don't know how, air reached my lungs on its own.
Counting has officially become my favourite pass-time, since that was the only thing that kept me sane and let me know that time is actually moving forward. Took me many tries but I have learned to count to ten thousand without mixing it up. And that is saying something. I have spent here many days, maybe even a month, if not longer. Stretching has become my second favourite pass-time. Why? Because I learned that after many stretches my bubble, as I have started to call where I am, it becomes bigger for some time, but then it shrinks again. I like when it is bigger, makes it easier to move around.
What's happening. I'm being moved form my bubble. I can feel it. Someone is forcing me out of it. It is getting suffocating tight and I am being pushed out of it, like an icing out of its containment, when decorating a cake. And I'm the icing. And I must say, I will never look at icing the same way. It hurts. And saying it hurts is an understandment.
After some time, which felt like hours, the torture finally ended. But now I am cold. And wet. I felt the liquid from my bubble around me and on me, which felt quite disgusting. I tried to open my eyes for the second time. This time I was greeted by blinding light, so I quickly shut them closed. Where they trying to make me blind? I heard voices around me, but I didn't understand what they said, since they were muffled and in a foreign language. Definitely not English. Suddenly, I was suffocating. I needed air, but before I could remember by myself how to breathe, after months of not breathing, someone took me by my leg and hit my but with such force that my vocal cords burst into a cry or pain and tears sprung my eyes, but I quickly forced them away. I was a big girl and big girls didn't cry from pain. They cried of a broken heart and someone close dead and now was neither the case.
Along with my cry, my eyes opened again. After few moments my eyes got used to the light and I took in my surroundings. I was taken aback on how big everything was. And that I was up-side-down, held by one leg. I glanced around the room and saw that is was a medical room with multiple doctors in it and a female in labour. Wait. Why are they so big? Could it be? No, it can't. It is impossible. Have I been the females womb and been born? That is impossible. This has to be a dream. A bad one. Of all the wacky dreams I have had, this one tops them all. Yes. It has to be a dream. I fell asleep in the burning cold and now am dreaming. It has to be it. Or I am about to have a heart-attack from the shock of being born.
Okay. What to do in shock situation? Ah, yes. Breathe. Take a deep breath, hold it for few seconds and let it out slowly. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Gah! I can't hold my breath for more than two seconds. My lungs are puny. Okay, still, breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Yes. That's it. Just breathe. Everything will be alright. I will wake up from this dream and everything will return back to the way it was.
Odd. Usually I understand what people are saying, but now they are speaking a foreign language. No matter. If I am a baby in this freaky dream, I don't need to understand them. New born babies aren't supposed to understand what grown-ups are talking anyway. And this is just great. My calming activities made me miss my new name.
Now I am being taken away from my new mother to the incubator or what-ever it is called; the room where babies are put to wait for their mothers to get well again and pick them up to take them to their new home. What a horrid place to be. It stinks of pee and poop and other babies are crying. Isn't this place supposed to be sterile? Oh wait. My bed is clean. So another baby pooped in his diapers. Ew. That is just gross. I hope I don't get to that part. Ah, the nurse is coming. Quick. Get rid of that poop. It stinks. And the cries of the brats, I mean, the babies, are giving me a head-ache.
Thank God the nurse heard my silent plea and took the stench away y turning on the ventilator and taking the pooping baby to wash it. Wait. Did I just call a baby 'it'? Meh. Doesn't matter, since I don't know if the baby is a he or she. And what better way to refer to the unknown gender baby than 'it'? Yes, definitely the best. But I am rambling here. But what else I can do than ramble in my head, since I can't talk. Wait. I can't talk? Why I think that I can't talk? Oh, right. I'm a fricking baby. But it doesn't hurt to try, right? And so I tried to say an easy word, but all that came out was a gurgling sound of my saliva making bubbles then bursting. Ew. All that saliva I hadn't swallowed is now dripping down my chin. It is so disgusting. I tried to wipe it off, but my limbs didn't exactly follow my commands, or more precisely, they were so undeveloped that they couldn't do what I told them to do. So I decided to cry, like babies do when they want something, but not with tears. That would be bellow me.
Soon a nurse came to me, to see what I needed. The instant her face appeared above me, I stopped wailing and tried to talk again, letting the saliva drip down my chin, hoping that the nurse would understand that I wanted her to wipe off the liquid off my face. Alas, she didn't understand. She started to coo at me and picked me up and carried me back to my dream mother. I looked at her to see a woman that was to be my mother in this dream to see a heart shaped face and long wavy black hair with no fringe and bangs framing her face. Her eyes were acorn green colour with a yellow flower around her iris. What interesting eyes. I haven't seen such eyes before.
I was put in her arms and my head was moved to her breast. Wait. Breast? Breast-feeding? No way in f-ing Hell. No. Bad me. I must not swear. But still. Breast feeding? Not happening, not on my watch. I put my puny hands on the naked breast and pushed it away, as much as I could, but still it was shoved in my face. I held my mouth shut, as I frowned and pushed the breast away from me. The nurse said something in a confused voice and the breast was covered. How nice. I let out a giggle to let them know I was pleased that their puny brains understood that no breast-feeding was going to happen. At least for now. Hmmm. The woman's hold was warm. Sure, I was in diapers and blanket, but that didn't mean I didn't want additional warmth. After the burning cold and feeling the wombs warmth, I wanted warmth very much. I carved it. So I moved closer to the mother figure, which caused the two females to giggle. Must have been a cute sight, a drooling baby moving closer to its mother. All would be nice if I could get rid of the dripping saliva. Oh, I got an idea. Why not wipe it off in the hospital grown? So I did that. Still think I'm cute? I was taken away from mother. Thought so. Not so cute after all. There was a lot of drool to wipe off, which is why I giggled again.
But in the reality I wanted to cry. I was not waking up, which made me think that I might have died in the snow. Now that I think about it, it was stupid of me not to seek for shelter before falling asleep. It would have taken a miracle for me to survive a winter night out in the snow with no source of warmth. I must have really died. And reborn. As a baby. And why do I still remember my old life. Do all babies remember their old life and then forget it? Or only those whose soul is reborn? I remember reading that souls have multiple lives. The older is the soul, the wiser is the person in life. Of course, it is just beliefs of the living, with no proof to back it up. Would be cool if I don't forget my old life and still have all the knowledge of my old life. School would be so easy, since I would already know everything. Except history and my new language. All I can tell from what I have heard is that it I Latin origin. I hope it is Italian. I always had wanted to learn Italian, but fell asleep before I could. Yes, I'm still having the more pleasant option in my mind that am sleeping and that it is a long dream.
Suddenly, I got very nauseous. So I puked on the nurse. She was not happy. She took me back to the crib and put me in it, after which she went away, probably to clean herself up. I giggled. That was fun. Except the stomach acid aftertaste in my mouth. Hate it. No. Strongly dislike. Hate is a powerful word, just like love, and should not be used lightly. I dislike when people describe shallow emotions with strong words. Anyhow, I'm back in my crib, bored out of my mind. It seems it is time for me to do my favorite past time - counting.