It was an ordeal that I could have missed altogether. The choice was there but deep down, it was never really a matter of choosing. It was simply an inevitable series of events that led me to the operating table. Dazed as they cut me open and panicking at the thought of people simply throwing my flap of skin to expose my uterus.
I did not really get it at first. It was too cold and too quiet. I could feel the icy slab of the operating table and hear the ticking of the seconds hand of the clock.
Then a loud cry erupted.
I dimly heard them say that it’s time to sew me up.
I woke up and saw her.