I remember my birth. 1947. Nasty energy. Smelled fear from my mother. Milk was terrible. She must have eaten onions before labor. I hear it was a long one, like 24 hours. I remember digging in my heels for a time and finally agreeing to come. Sorry about the long labor, Mom.

Great story, thanks for sharing.

I have generally been good about accepting other people's experiences without questioning that someone's experience could be very different from my own. A year ago, I asked myself when I did judge something as impossible. I thought of a time when I was 14 and someone around the same age told me he remembered when he was born. I'm sure he could tell I didn't believe him, and he didn't tell me another word. Looking back, I wished I had been more open and had asked him a million questions. Thank you for sharing your memories, now that I am ready to hear.