I cannot explain to you with perfect accuracy the experience of childbirth unless you have seen it for yourself; unless you have a foal. While the mares in my life say that I still don’t understand the experience, being a stallion and unable to give birth, I quietly believe that they are wrong.

The birth of a foal is something that, statistically speaking, is relatively common. With enough research, we could tell how many foals are born every day. However, for the parents, it is something so staggering that even the father, who is not entirely necessary in the whole business, does well to listen to the breathing lessons given to his wife during the pregnancy.

After the year or so before the big day, or longer, if the couple plans their child, anxiety grips the imaginations of the would-be parents. Fears of birth defects, problems during birth, twins, triplets, even outlandish and uncommon fears like hermaphrodism or conjoinedness toss and turn in the expectant minds. This, of course, accompanies what are considered “normal” fears, whether the foal will be a colt or a filly (and the associated prayers for one or the other), what the foal’s talents will be, and of course, countless scenarios involving the foal’s growth, from lessons on bullies to dealing with the foal’s first date, first kiss, first time, etc.

All of these fears well up inside the parents, and just as powerful are the hopes and dreams for the happiness of the foal, along with the incredible, overwhelming power of love for one’s spouse, should the couple be exclusively together, otherwise further fear ensues at the prospect of facing the future more or less alone. All this good, all this bad, and all the more in between, comes to a head once the foal comes, and there is not a damn thing Celestia or Luna or even the demons of hell can do about it once it’s time.

This is why birth is called a miracle. It is a test like none other. The future is laid bare, a yawning abyss of possibility, and what seems like a narrow road to traverse it safely.

But as I stated earlier, objectively, birth is not inherently special. However, exceptions do exist.

I tell you this because this context is important for understanding the circumstance of my birth. Was it extraordinary? In some ways, yes. In others, no. There were many other foals like me out in the world, but my parents were normal ponies, and as such I was out of place. Some of the more superstitious took my birth to be a sign and others had been so disenchanted with the notions of the supernatural that they believed I was simply another quirk of genetics, a fortunate birth defect.

Try as they might, however, no one could quite explain how I came to be. But, in keeping with the proceedings of birth, I was what I was, and that was that.

In that sense, my birth was quite normal. I was a healthy colt, a little early, and I grew normally. But my life was forever marked by my birth, and in that sense, it was extraordinary.

After all, it’s not every day an alicorn is born.

Author's Notes:

I know, having the main character be an alicorn is a cardinal sin. But humor me. You might enjoy it.