Niko sat like a little buddha in the belly of his mother. Bald-headed, cross-legged and his arms folded on his chest. He had grown into an impressive being these passed months and it became time to leave this cave. But he refused to manuver his body into a position that would have made the birth easy or at least easier for him and subsequently for his mother too. Nothing could convey him to move his mighty head towards the cervix, to turn his body a 180 degrees downwards.
Sometimes he saw a feeble light shining through the abdominal wall of his mother, there, where his bow legs pushed against it. The light made him curious, sure, but it didn’t convince him to turn his body.
The notion of bringing a child into this world legs first scared Niko’s mother. She knew that it couldn’t be much longer to the point when the water would break and initiate the birth process irrevocably.
The midwife felt the enormous belly with her fingercups, pressed here and there strongly against Niko’s cave and shaked her head.
– Nothing, still nothing, she said discouraged. It seems to be a pretty big chunk. If it doesn’t choose to in the next few days, then …
Niko’s Mother stood up from the couch.
– I’ve tried everything, she said. I even lit the way down with a candle. Somehow I hoped the light could bring it to move itself into the right position.
– In many cases it does, the midwife said. In many cases. But sometimes the kids choose to in the very last second. So you still have to try.