Immunoglobins

We live … Surviving from the syngamy, when we have to fight against an army of immunoglobulins known and unknown, against Macrophages engulf looking clueless against T lymphocyte obfuscated approaching and menacing against an entire system of peptides, defensins and phagocytic us look surprised with their weapons at the ready … But we survived thanks to our great Mother with her emotional and vehement messages ionic achieved friendship with his immune system and guide for us. We live … survive amid a hail of insults and poisonous abortion, loaded with levonorgestrel, misoprostol and ormeloxifen, seeking to drown our intervillous spaces, so that no nested and so moribund, send the bucket in the middle of clots and bloody gauze … but our great Mother, with that instinct that springs from the silent depths of tissue, the fight against all confused, age, parity, education, the future and sometimes against our own father. We live haunted by anorexia, retching and leucorrhoea and survived that our great mother, breathe deeply, sucking candies acids, eat little by little, it tolerates frequent painful blisters on his buttocks and buttery and uncomfortable apply pessaries. We live …

Surviving and diving into the amniotic fluid, tolerate the vagaries of daily life, everyday, cushioned, stable water, surrounded and fed protein, carbohydrates, lipids, urea and electrolytes … thanks to our great Mother who is in charge of producing the first 4 months and enrich later. We live and survived, fed by the blood peacefully and plasma from our heroine, mercilessly sucking their proteins, draining their reserves of folate, iron and other minerals and electrolytes, causing the poor fight later against anemia, cramps, paresthesia, tingling, gingivorrhagia. We live … Surviving, born in the midst of contractions and dilations, amid hysterical cries of pain and nervous gestures and pleading voices that flood the delivery room, There! … where they cross the pleas and demands, with dripping … oxytocin, sweat and adrenaline!, with the umbilical cord in the neck and death in the back dancing … but our Mother …

our great Mother, do not deny support when , does not surrender to the supreme hour of fighting, without denying support, without accusing cries, smiles rather than mourn, dilates instead of closing, instead of retaining ejected. Thus we are born in the midst of blood, fluid and fluid, with the vernix caseosa on the skin, with fists clenched and eyes too, scared, terrified and open we are with those hands and open arms, with that broad smile, cooing voices who already had heard, with that face full of joy and happiness with our mother and we get if we cry … cry … … Mother, the universal language that all newborns cry at birth, here there and in all corners of the earth … Mother! it means … Thanks, it means … I Love You! … that