Dear diary,
It's been many days since I wrote to you. Well, what can I do? Life is not so easy. Nobody thinks of me anymore, except when they have a stomach ache. And that hurts.
In some ways, my story ends when the baby is born. Of course, I am always there through the little tummy button on the navel. This is the exact spot where we once had a different connection. You might call me a scar but I wear the badge of honor with great pride.
Today, I house bacteria - good and bad. My connection may have been severed with the once-growing fetus, yet I am connected to over 70,000 nerves all over the body.
Like a gigantic tree that has wide, and deep roots, I have deep connections that extend throughout the body. You look after me, and you can tend to so many different parts of your body. I just need a little care. Sometimes you remember and at other times, forget.
Sure, some people like to put a ring in me, while others like to display me. But mostly I’m forgotten and truth be told - also neglected. I almost wish I was something more important like the stomach or the heart.
Yet, this was not the case since the beginning of time. Remember, the beginning? With all the swish, and the swirl of all the liquids inside the mother’s body. How magical was that time! And I do remember well enough when the embryo needed protection and nurturing. When the placenta fanned itself out - like a protective bird nestling its young one. And then I was born, five weeks after conception. I was the lifeline, the essential tube - with two arteries, and one vein. The arteries would carry blood from the left ventricle of the tiny fetal heart to the placenta and receive the oxygen and nutrients from the mother. The vein would carry the oxygenated blood smoothly from the placenta to the right atrium of the fetal heart.
Day after day, over that tumultuous journey of nine months, ~did I carry nutrients, fluids, fats.~ We did everything that delighted the little fetus and watched it grow, and grow. The little heart, the spinal cord, the little ears, eyes…I was already in love.
Everything worked like clockwork. Though it all might look a little fuzzy from afar, the ecosystem inside was truly top notch. Though I was 60-70 cms long, the Wharton’s Jelly would ensure that I don’t get tangled or confused. The Jelly is a rich mass of proteins and carbohydrates that surround the arteries and veins.
Of course, all of us - the placenta, the uterus - were watching over the fetus with delight. We would record every little movement and development within ourselves. How proud we were when the doctor would declare month after month that the baby was developing normally and well. We would wait with bated breath and press our ears against the belly, catch every word and then explode with good cheer. The celebrations that day would beat any party hands down. We would ask some of the special bacteria to glow in the dark for a bit, and would amp up the inevitable music that came from the outside world. (Mommy, too, would be having a party that day.) Of course, the ‘first baby’ as we would call the fetus would look all surprised - but the fetus loved the party we hosted. It would gurgle, and kick really hard and finally fall asleep.
Of course, we would all be a little anxious for the big day. Though we tried not to show it too much. We could hear more prayers from outside and would amp up the sound. If we caught any nervous waves or talk coming from the outside, we would immediately lower the sound. This way, the baby had no idea about the possibilities of discomfort during childbirth. It was all a big adventure for the little one.
The delivery honestly didn’t matter to me. Of course, we would be a little sad - the life inside was wonderful and exciting. Yet, there was a big adventure awaiting the first baby and we were happy to have played our part.
Though there is a tinge of sadness when the doctors decide to cut me after the baby has been delivered healthily. We spent so much time together.
Sometimes doctors cut me after a few minutes once the baby comes out well. They believe that the baby gets better nutrients that way. Cutting me earlier than desired can affect the baby’s growth, according to all those science journals. I hear all this talk in the delivery room.
I’ve realized that each family has their way of dealing with me. Some families use the placenta and me to create a placenta print. I am dried and made into a little artwork which hangs over their living rooms, or in their nurseries. I do admit, we look pretty. A tree of life, as the parents say.
Some mothers get the placenta and me dried and converted into pills or smoothies and eat us. Yes, you read right. Some people even say we help to get over postpartum depression and replenish vital nutrients.
We are discarded as medical waste in some cases while in others, we are wrapped up with the baby until we naturally dry up. Proudly called the lotus birth, some parents believe it helps the child to acclimatize with the new environment. Some even store the umbilical cord blood - they believe that stem cells can be used to cure many ailments in the future.
You may choose to believe in anything - yet I’m staying right here.
One of your first connections with life,
Yours truly,
Tummy button
Based on inputs by Dr. Sharika Menon, Ayurvaidya
