A letter to my unborn
My child, as I put pen to paper and jot down this letter. I have an abundance of thoughts but a drought of words, because no matter how I put forward my opinions it is going to seem nothing more than just an excuse. Ever since I was blessed with the seeds of life, roughly fifteen years ago, I have pondered and wondered of how you, my unborn, were going to look like, in anticipation of your arrival. I wondered what your gender would be, and whether there would be one or more of you. I wondered whether you would have my nose, my eyes, my feet or even my determined spirit.
If I have been so curious, then why did it take so long to have you here?
Well, child, a lot of the points and facts I am going to outline here, will only make sense to you once you have grown up yourself. The dynamics and setup of the society of my upbringing is such that though it had been physically possible for me to reproduce since a decade and half back, there were other factors that needed to be taken into consideration before such an act could be fulfilled. I will attempt to list these factors here:
- Independence: – in order to not be entirely reliant on support structures such as parents, relatives and the government, in terms of social welfare, I had to first attain independence. Failure to which, would have meant that you, my unborn, would have likely been a burden to those taking care of me, because on top of that, they would have had to take care of you too.
- Maturity:- in order for me to be the best father I could be to you, I needed to first travel on this gravel, rocky, hilly and dusty road of life. I had to first experience the heat of summer, the coldness of winter, the blossoms of spring, and the harvests of autumn. I had to first experience trials and tribulations, the heartache and joy, the sorrow and happiness of life. I had to first find my way through these obstacles in order to pave a better way for you. So that your troubles, are exponentially lower than mine, as my wealth of experience could be used to guide you into the right paths. My maturity is to your benefit.
- Your mom:- finding the right field to plough, plant and harvest my seeds has not been an easy task. In my search for her, I always had your best interests at heart, hence the qualifying criteria was nothing less than unreasonably stringent. She had to be of the right height, have the right body, the right colour, and the right religion. She had to have the right smile, the right charm, and the right laugh. She had to be perfect in every way thinkable and possible. She had to cook right, iron right, clean right, eat right, think right, talk right, walk right, dress right, look right, and be right. Because you, my unborn, had to be better than both of us combined.
You, my unborn, had to have better opportunities, and better life than we did.