I know I’m not alone in feeling this way, but I just have to say it: “I AM so excited to come into this life with these parents, siblings, friends I’ve had the privilege to choose to experience this life with and to come into this body that’s female and white and ready to take on all the experiences I’ve chosen to help me grow. I know it is as possible to experience negativity as it is to experience positivity; that’s what the contrast and duality of the third dimension contributes and I will not ever be able to miss a beat in choosing which way my mind interprets the things that are happening.”
I’m just a bit hesitant. Mainly that’s because I don’t particularly relish the idea of “forgetting” all I know right now. Once I enter my body, it will serve as a veil between all I know now and a brand new clean slate. Wow! That’s an awesome thought! I know me. I’d best get on with it without taking too long pondering all the ramifications of that.
Interesting. There’s a preponderance of feeling, thinking, smelling (ooh, gag), hearing, noticing stuff awfully close to me and infringing on me, seeing and I guess that weird sensation must be tasting. Odd, but no one seems to think I might like to comment on any of it. I’m also getting a sense that I may not know how to let anyone know what it is that I think.
Possibly, everyone is distracted. That woman on the table, and, by the way, she’s the one I feel most connection with, doesn’t seem to be doing too well. The faces of everyone else in here seem very concentrated on trying to come up with a way to help her. I would think they would be more welcoming of me, but, honestly, I seem to be just an afterthought. I can entertain myself with my observations, but, man, I do seem to be lacking in knowing much of anything.
Whoa! I seem to be losing consciousness. Lights out, I guess. I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I think they may have drugged me through the process of my arriving here, and yowzers, I’m tired.
I seem to have lost track of some of what’s been happening to me. It seems to be one endless round of loud and startling noises, lots of bright lights, smells way bigger than my ability to take them in, strange poking and manhandling and stuff that I’m not sure I want.
The language of those around me seems unclear in some way I’m not sure I understand yet; but for the most part everyone seems eager to greet me and, at least attempt to make me feel special. I find I quite like most everything about me. It’s a little lonely feeling knowing I have no way of speaking my wants to the people I’ve seen thus far. I feel kinda crummy that I sometimes resort to tears and wailing like a banshee in frustration, but, generally that’s been received with immense patience and obvious efforts to alleviate whatever must be bothering me.
I can’t help but wonder why I no longer see the woman that was on that table in that first scene I told you about. I notice a feeling of longing, kind of an ache, whenever I think about her. It’s a definite disadvantage having the language barrier, I’ve got to admit. I would certainly ask some questions if ever I could figure out how.
Some people I come in contact with go ahead and talk to me, or, at least that’s what it seems like it is. I feel sincere appreciation for that and continue to make my efforts to get what they’re saying. I feel like I might know what two or three words are meant to convey and that spurs me on to keep trying.
I’m sorry to disappoint if you were hoping for more details in the birth process. I seem to have forgotten all that thoroughly. I AM curious, though. Is that something you have a clear memory of?