It was dark and gooey.
A little smile spread across my face. I was definitely happy. Something was about to begin. Although I had an awareness of a big event, I wasn’t certain what It, the event, was. It had a sense of adventure. I had the sensation of starting on a new path. The thought that it was important to remember that in a moment or two the planets would be aligned just so kept crossing my mind. I wasn’t sure why. I also thought that maybe I was dreaming, or dreaming within a dream. Everything seemed to be just a little too surreal. My hand curled to form a fist and shook in front of me, as if it had a mind of its own. I could not control it. My knees were curled up to my chest and I was under water, or in water. But it was thicker than water. More comforting than water. I had been aware of my surroundings for sometime now. I was cozy and comfy. I was happy. My environment glowed. Suddenly my body jerked without thinking. My legs shot out, straight behind me and I unintentionally pushed off of the wall that was my enclosure, my home. I slowly closed my eyes. It was a sensation like a sea otter taking a dive down into the ocean. As I caught the current, a big hand shot out to catch me as I dove, not through water, but rather as I flew through the air. I thought I was just going to the other side of the pool! My eyes opened and I laughed. It was the middle of the night. Sometime after 3 AM on a springtime April morning. But I was wide awake. I was aware. It was dark outside, although how I knew that I do not know. There were no windows in this room. A couple of people dressed in white were fussing over me, hitting me on my backside. I was supposed to cry, but all I could do was laugh. They began sticking things up my nose and drying my skin. I was trying to shake them off. Get away from me, I kicked. That was a good swim. That was a good entrance. I was born well.
The room was big and made of black and white tile. I don’t know if it was really black and white. They say that we can’t see color when we first arrive, so black and white made sense to me. There were also four columns of white light in the room – two at my feet and two at my head. Although, because I was so small, as they stood close and they seemed like less than four. But there were definitely four. Four columns of unearthly bright white light that surrounded me as I lay on the table. They hovered over me as if to inspect this new little thing kicking and jerking, laughing and smiling. It was important that I remember that they were there. I must always remember that they were there at my birth.