When I Was Born

Those who don´t believe in reincarnation might not care to read this. Actually, these distant memories came to me as a "great surge" about two years ago. I´m 48 now, and I know that children have the strangest ideas about their lives, so the craziness of the below may just be from the general silliness of the memories of a very young child.

I´m going to write later about what happened when I met Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. when I was only two years old…it´s even wilder and crazier than this. I wrote one sane version of that story, and I´m going to write the insane version, which is basically from the "dreams" of a silly girl toddler.

What could I write if I didn´t know what to write…when I was born? I was in my mother´s womb. My first memory is I woke up, realizing something was changing. The next thing I knew, I was slurp out of there, in bright lights, and the doctor was saying, "You´re destined for great things, little girl." I recall a Chinese looking orderly, and somehow at the time I seemed to know what he was. I was mystified by this strange knowledge. Then, a female nurse took me to a nice warm bath, and all the wet, gooey gunk was bathed off of me. Finally, I was put into a clear plastic container and wheeled down a long hallway.

I remember the many bumps as we rolled over doorway stops. It shook me, and I decided to have faith that all was going to be well. I told myself: soon I´ll know what´s going on. I was rolled into a large area, and my plastic container was lifted and placed into the midst of this area. Far away, I could see a plate of clear glass, and the bright indoor lights were glaring down on me. I knew I was in a waiting area of some kind, wondered how it was I knew these things, and figured I´d be in for a long wait. I knew someone was going to eventually show up and claim me; the word "family" came into my head.

As I waited, I noticed a short, dark-haired nurse among the taller, lighter nurses, and thought to myself that I´d best not think she was inferior. I wondered what that meant. I thought, I have to police my thoughts now, and not get caught even thinking of…racism. I wondered why that was so important, and a voice came to me, regarding my need to feed off my mother´s breast, "You´d better be a lesbian, when it comes to suckling on your mom, anyway."

I decided I didn´t want to be a lesbian, and as I waited and watched, trying to police my thoughts and keep from hearing further voices, my family magically appeared behind the plate glass. I saw my short, dark sister Connie, and realized it was her that all the racism fuss had been about. I sighed with relief, knowing that the people I could see lined up – my mom, dad and two sisters – were going to take good care of me.