Creator's World

  As I held my newborn baby in my arms, I could not help but sigh. My wife, Tabitha and baby were safe at home. I had sent her to the Central Hospital about a week ago to deliver our baby, much to Tabitha’s displeasure. She had complied, however, and had stayed in the hospital till she was delivered of her baby. I was happy to see them again. But that scar… I couldn’t bring myself to look at it yet. In fact, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Tabitha in the same way ever again. I felt so betrayed by that scar!             Prior to her pregnancy, Tabitha had been porcelain perfect: not even a hint of an injury could be seen on her body. She was perfect, and I had gloried in that perfection. She had all the curves to make other women green, a dazzling white smile to put the sun to shame, and a musical laughter which could clear the darkest clouds of depression. Tabitha was the perfect hourglass. I had always been proud to be seen in her company, and although she was the reserved sort,

            “You and your baby are going home today, Tabitha. Aren’t we glad?” Dr. Tablus asked me cheerily.             Yes, I was. This was my first pregnancy and it had taught me a lot of interesting things, the last of which has changed my perspective about having children forever. I had a smooth pregnancy, I mean, no morning sickness, no loss of appetite, no crazy cravings, I had that pregnancy glow which made many people compliment me every time. I was strong; I could walk the distance and carry loads that were safe for pregnancy. I only went to the hospital when my antenatal visit was due. Everything was great until my due date came. And passed. And I had still not delivered.             I remember my midwife recommending a hospital stay until I had delivered, which I had been against. I mean, if my baby was ready to be born, my body would be set in motion, wouldn’t it? I had gone home to my husband who, to my utter shock, packed me out of our apartment and drove me straig