Article by Emma Devlin Art by Kristopher Ligtenberg
At first there is cold and light and hands spanking your bum. A cry reluctant to escape your stomach, sticking to your throat, not knowing that this world requires air. Then you scream and this makes them happy. You are placed into a woman’s gentle arms. Love is the only thing you know. You've been born.
Stars dangle over your head. They are attached to a plastic machine that plays music when you sleep. When you pull one of the stars, it jumps and twirls around. You find this trick funny. When you laugh, a man and woman laugh with you. You often see them pointing a device at you. Sometimes it flashes and blinds you. Other times, it releases an alarming sound and is placed at the ear and you see their mouths moving: blah blah blah. You do not yet realize these are conversations. Words are an enigma.
The orange mush tastes better than the green one, you’ve decided. It comes from a clear glass in a large, silver shape that hums and gurgles and smells of many unknowns. When the woman or man brings a spoon to your face, you suck on its contents and attempt to chew without teeth. You know what food is now, though not exactly. You know food is what goes into your mouth, but not what it stands for. Survival. You will understand what this means after enough living.
You are dressed warmly because you are outside in the snow. It is white, a color you will learn in preschool; it numbs your fingers, which you don't like, so you scrunch your face. The man carrying you makes you watch him sculpt a snowman. You hear this name and save it in the back of your mind until you can make sense of it. It is time for bed. You tire quickly. The woman cradles you while the man points the device in your direction. The flash is startling. You wonder why there are so many flashes in the short period that you've existed.
A furry creature licks your cheek. You grab its nose and it sneezes. You squeal. It licks you again. You grab its nose and it sneezes again. You are not aware that it is a dog, but you know that you love it. This feeling comes often nowadays. You feel this way towards the man and woman, who give you kisses and hugs and pats and scratches and baths and blankets and juice and mush. When you are not near them, you cry.
The tub is decorated with floating objects. A rubber boat. A purple octopus. A sailor with half a face. You scratched off its paint. The woman sits by your side and rubs goo in your hair, behind your ears, between your toes. You do not mind because the goo creates bubbles in the water. You pop them one by one. The woman yawns. It is late. You do not understand that you are being bathed because you made a mess of yourself in your crib. Orange mush everywhere. You are cleaned at least twice a day. You smell like strawberries.
You are strapped to a car seat in a speeding vehicle. You are mesmerized by what’s outside: blurry trees, blurry houses, blurry people, blurry animals. When the vehicle slows, your head stops spinning and you piece together what you've observed–you do not yet realize that you are forming a vocabulary list. Along this journey, you close your eyes and, once opened, see another woman come to your window. She shares your mother’s features. She holds you like she's done this before. She caresses your head and rubs your feet and brings her face close to yours, cooing like the birds on your windowsill. You know she is someone to be loved.
Your reflection takes you by surprise. Pink nose. Pink cheeks. Chubby fingers. Wrinkled neck. Big brown eyes. Small lips. No teeth. Reddish blob on your face. You are tempted to grab the mirror and take a closer look, but you forget you can't walk. You are tempted to tell her, well, anything, perhaps how beautiful she looks, but forget you can't talk. You wonder what to think of yourself. Should you love her like the man and woman and older woman and furry creature? You will learn over time the importance of self-love. When someone frowns upon your birthmark, you will see it is part of who you are and therefore unique. When a classmate makes fun of your passion for classical music, you will recognize how cool it is to like what others don't. When you experience your first heartbreak, you will realize you deserve better. Through these moments, you will reflect upon your worth and acknowledge your potential. Sadness doesn't last forever, as you will discover.
You are a baby
That much is clear
With soft skin and hair and eyes
Curiosity ever-consuming
Vulnerable to everything that fascinates and frightens you
Searching for answers without knowing how to find them
The meaning of life
A blank in your brain
Unformed, undefined, unleashed
You are hollow
And ready to be filled