Abigail Diya John

I sat down in front of the walls, an agonizingly bored white sitting on them. Hanging on to its plain source of life. Bleeding its irked numbness. I found peace in these walls, as I did that one fine day, that painfully beautiful day…

A familiar uncertainty crept into my soul; a feeling of muted noise was in my body, we all felt its screams. Anything could happen; we could all be here for an hour or a full day. We were all waiting for the same thing, but would all have different results. A rather large man was sitting to the right of me and to the left a newborn baby and his mother. They both smelled different. The man smelled of anxiety, and doubtful thoughts. The mother and child smelled of new life and relief.

I’m sure I smelled of deep, meaningless thought, inexperience and undoubtedly bad hospital food.

Just when I felt like letting everything go, letting my eyes well up with doubts and my throat cough up the questioned. We saw a glimpse of purpose. A small text saying, “All good.” Just, “All good.” Who knew that two words would bring a heart rate of 1000 down to its normal pace? I tried desperately to rely on the text, but its importance wore out after an hour or so. My heart rate started climbing again.

The next time I saw my sister she would be half of what she was and there would be a replica of her. A small infant who would have love poured on her from the first day of her life, to the last day, she would be showered with anything she wanted. When she wanted to talk we would sit and listen intently, if anyone was troubling her, we would go to the person and punch him or her in the throat. Love at first site.  I would take a bullet for this small angel and I hadn’t even met her yet.

All this anxiety was numbed by another text. “ Abigail Diya John was born on the 8^th of September 2010 at 5:15 pm weighing a healthy 3.6 kgs” My heart bounced into 5^th gear. When could I see her? What would she look like? Is she healthy? When could I see her? Is my sister okay? When could I see her?

A small giggle bought me back to clear vision, I took my attention off the white wash walls, turned my head and there she was. 6 months along, healthy as ever and picture perfect.