July 7, 2018
My mind raced when I saw the Lyft coming down the street. 5… 4…. 3… 2… 1…. They are here. What’s happening. It’s happening. They are not mine. Are they? Wait. What? Who are they? Who’s he? Wait. Who’s she? What? I’m not ready! What? Oh, God! Here they come!
The moment I laid eyes on Jeannie, I knew she was my mother. Every cell in my body became activated as my spirit screamed, “Mommaaaa!” It was as though a repressed memory from birth rose up like a phoenix and engulfed my whole being. I had to touch her. I needed her next to me again. I didn’t understand my feelings, but my soul did, allowing it to lead.
I read an article on Healthline.com about repressed memories. The article says that when the brain registers something too distressing, it drops the memory into a ‘nonconscious’ zone, a realm of the mind you don’t think about–you unconsciously forget. These memories generally involve some trauma or an excruciating moment.
This concept was developed by Sigmund Freud. He believed that memory repression served as a defense mechanism against traumatic events. Symptoms that couldn’t be traced to a clear cause, he concluded, stemmed from repressed memories. You can’t remember what happened, but you feel it in your body, anyway.
I believe that this is what happened to me when I was born. How else can you explain why I spiritually remembered a woman I never knew existed? I was a newborn separated from her mother. My only desire was to be with her. It was a traumatic experience I had unconsciously forgotten, and it hurt…still does sorta’…
We embraced. I felt the gates of heaven open as I welcomed her back into my heart. I could tell she thought she’d never imagined this day would come. But it did, and I could feel her thanking the Lord.
Sam watched, and I pulled him in too. And just like that, for the first time in our lives, it was just us three. I finally had a REAL birth story. No confusion, no anger, no pain, no agency or foster care, just the three of us the way baby Jennifer wanted on the day she was born.