Pe Myint - The Consumer Goods Sellers and Other Short Stories

Pe Myint - The Consumer Goods Sellers and Other Short Stories

Consumer goods sellers

Well, I think I should start by talking about women.

My wife said...

I can't say if it's because women are mothers or if their bodies are naturally like that. This woman often says she wants a baby. She says she wants to hold a baby, she says she wants to breastfeed.

In fact, he can't even do what he already has. He can't help but worry about eating and drinking, reading, and getting angry because he doesn't feel like it.

In between, when things are a little calmer, we often talk about wanting children.

As you know, having a child is hard if you don't want it, but easy if you want it. Except for a few rare people.

So, when I asked her, "Why do you want a child so much? Let's have a baby." She asked me if I dared to have a child, but I didn't dare, I was afraid.

They say they are tired of thinking about how they have to raise a child to be a good person, but they are not afraid, they are just afraid of getting pregnant.

Yes, of course, it would be scary for her. This woman is not like other women when she gets pregnant. From the beginning of her pregnancy, she would vomit and scream and not be able to eat or swallow anything until she became completely paralyzed. She was afraid of this terrible pain. And she had a history of having a C-section before, so she would have to have another C-section if she gave birth. She would have to have injections, drugs, and she would accidentally get AIDS from the mother.

That's why when I mentioned a little bit about surrogacy in a magazine, he suddenly stood up and said, "Please read it carefully."

I also had to read the news in the magazine from beginning to end.

A woman and her husband, who are unable to have children because their uterus has been removed due to a disease, go to a doctor who practices modern in vitro fertilization. The doctor fuses the woman's egg with the man's sperm, creating what is called an in vitro fertilization (IVF) baby.

It's a story about a baby being placed in another woman's womb and allowed to grow with that woman's blood, and when the baby is born, the woman and man take the baby, and the surrogate mother is paid a certain amount of money, and that's how it is done.

The woman listened to that and was overjoyed, as if the path had been paved for her. "It would be great if we could do something like that in Myanmar," he said.

“Don’t think too much, I only have to pay ten thousand dollars for a pregnant woman, I don’t know how much I’ll have to pay for the doctor and the clinic, let’s calculate how much it would be in Myanmar currency,” he said, but he was a bit cold.

"It can't be that bad here." "Starting this month, we have to play the lottery regularly every week." "If the lottery is won at the same time as the time when it's possible to do that in Myanmar, it's okay."

Saying that, he went to bed.

By the time I finished reading the entire magazine, the woman was already making noises and falling asleep. I think she was even dreaming about having a baby through surrogacy.

I don't know what his dream is like. My dream is...

I don't know where the story begins. All I know is that a man drove me. A man was either a servant or a driver of a rich man. On the way, I saw tall skyscrapers, two-story and three-story roads. I passed through large courtyards and a rich man's neighborhood. Then I came to the outskirts of the city. After crossing a hill under the scorching sun, I saw huge piles of garbage. From a distance, they looked like huge hills.

Behind the mountain of garbage is a neighborhood. It's a big place. It's the size of a city. But there's not a single house in sight. Not even a wooden house on stilts. All are rickety huts made of earth, fences, and old, old straw.

"The car stopped at the edge of the neighborhood. Get out, you have arrived at your neighborhood," the driver said.

I opened the door and got out. His car turned around. I was left staring blankly at the neighborhood in front of me.

Is this our neighborhood? I thought about that person's words and suddenly I became a date. I'm from this neighborhood? So who am I, what country is this, where is this, is this where I live?

I walked around uneasily and confused.

It became clear to me. Yes, that place is my house.

The house looked like an old garage. But in the dream I knew for sure that it was my house.

When I entered the house, I saw a woman.

My wife was a black woman with dark skin, plump lips, and curly hair. “How did I ever get this?” I suddenly thought. But I didn't think about the dream for long.

The woman was found sitting quietly on a small bench. Her face was not good.

But it's not unusual for my wife to have a bad face. There's just one thing. I think she looks a little worse today than usual.

But I didn't ask anything. If I asked, the woman would answer if she wanted to. If she answered, "What can you do if I tell you?", the husband and wife would fight. So, I decided to listen to what she had to say, and went and sat down where the child was lying.

My son is not feeling well.

The woman looked at me with an unhappy face and stood up from her seat.

The woman was not feeling light. Her stomach was already bloated. In fact, she was only seven months pregnant. Her stomach was hot and felt heavier than usual.

This pregnancy is not for me.

In fact, my wife has been pregnant seventeen times. Of these, only two were with me. The rest were in other people's wombs. In other people's wombs, I gave birth to a surrogate mother.

I don't know how we got into this life. My wife has been working as a paid surrogate mother for other people's babies since we were born, and it's been almost twenty years now. There's no end to the pain.

At first, this job was quite difficult. The owners of the embryo farm often gave my wife, the virtual mother who would nourish their little one until he became a full-fledged organism, food, medicine, and gifts to nourish him during the nine months of pregnancy.

At that time, I was full of merit. I had to eat all the delicious food and fruits that were given to the woman.

At that time, those who had their fetuses carried by surrogates were usually true mothers who had to rely on others because they were unable to carry their own pregnancies due to their health conditions.

Later, this topic became very popular. I want a child, but I'm afraid of having a miscarriage. I'm afraid of having a baby with a stomachache. Women who say they don't want to have a baby in their stomach for nine or ten months. They also have a lot of money. There are many women like that. They live in big houses in big cities.

They entrust their wombs to women like my wife who are willing to accept pregnancy.

More and more women like my wife were accepting the offer. Gradually, it became a situation where the poor wives in our neighborhood were paying for the offer on behalf of all the rich wives in the city.

At this time, middlemen appear, brokers and pregnancy brokers.

In short, the prostitutes in our neighborhood, including my wife, fell into the hands of these brokers. With all kinds of contracts, rules, and fines...

My wife has had two miscarriages. Both times, my wife was a prostitute.

The court ruled that the hospitals and clinics that were opened by the government were not following the doctors' instructions and were therefore fined exorbitantly. My wife had to give birth four times to pay the fine. How can we escape this cycle?