As a very
young child, I always had a sense of security and well being.
I felt loved and watched over by God. I knew at a young age
that I had picked my parents and my siblings, and I told this
to anyone who would listen. Of course, no one did.
My pre-birth environment, or "heaven" as I like
to call it, was truly a wondrous place, filled with love,
comfort and understanding. I remember that it was once again
time to go to earth. I believe I discussed the life I would
lead on earth with someone more advanced spiritually than
I. I don't remember speaking, just thinking.
As I selected
my life, I remember having many loving souls around me and
carefully picking my parents and one sibling after another.
I've always been puzzled as to why everyone doesn't remember
this. I even remember them joking about how many souls I was
choosing. (I'm from a family of ten counting my parents) I
remember feeling a deep love toward my family and taking comfort
in the fact that these souls would be with me. (If I had any
idea how much aggravation most of them would cause me, I might
have decided to be an only child!)
were souls with me until the day I was born. I have memories
of flitting in and out of my fetus body. I believe this was
allowing me to get used to my physical earth body. And then
came the actual delivery.
the initial excitement and swooosh of being in a dark tunnel,
suddenly I couldn't breath. Feelings of confusion, panic and
pain enveloped my body. I felt as though I could not take
this earth world. I wondered why I had not been told of this
harshness. Just when I thought it all was over, I was born.
Thank God. I still remember the feeling of relief more vividly
than anything else.
I can remember, I've had an almost phobic reaction regarding
anything touching my neck. Normal things - a scarf, a turtleneck
sweater, a necklace. These things set off a physical reaction
leaving me feeling panicked and confused.
a conversation with my mother when I was sixteen did it all
come together. We were sitting at the kitchen table peeling
potatoes for supper one day. Somehow we got on the subject
of my delivery. She said that, of her eight children, my delivery
was the hardest.
asked why, she said, "Oh, it was awful. The doctor was
trying to deliver you but the umbilical cord was wrapped several
times around your throat. In a panic, he ran from the delivery
room. The nurse ran after him, pleading for him to come back.
To no avail. She came back into the room red-faced, but determined.
She said, 'Kathleen, we are going to deliver this baby together.'"
And they did.
mother finished this story, I felt vindicated. Memories of
my delivery flooded back to me -- panic, pain, not being able
to breathe -- confirming my pre-birth and birth memories.
I believe my mother's story was meant to affirm my connection
to God. Someone up there is watching over me. Of this I am