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  • Preface

    Though there is the element of reasonable expectations within the context of planning and managing our lives, I don't expect anything of anyone other than myself.
    My dreams and visions manifest not because I expect them to, but because I love them, whether they've materialised or not. And sometimes we don't see when or how they have already manifested.



    circa 1995

    I was participating in a marriage for seven years before I saw the sign to be a father. Standing outside in the strong moonlight from a not-yet-full moon, I saw a face coalescing out of what appeared to be thousands of tiny phosphorous stars. Not a lot of detail to remember, but a face. I was actually looking straight ahead, which was weird, as it seemed that the stars were everywhere - though there was a strong sense of the vision being 'skyward'. Yet I was not looking up.

    Suddenly it was there. Full already with serene movement. Continuing, with a soft, melding, morphing. Gently swirling, little pale yellowy-green stars, some of which then coalesced. To form a face. Then zap! Back to localised consciousness. Wondering. Fascinated. Feeling. Tranced. Knowing. It was then that I looked up and saw… the stars and the waxing moon.

    "Mmmm….strong vision, that one!", musing to myself. I remember the strong feelings of 'connection'. A knowing that 'this spirit' was waiting to come and that Now was the time. I also recall the feeling of resignation or surrender, for want of better words. A path that seemed to be impossible to avoid. The path of not knowing what was to come next. A feeling of a million things to do, and where do I start? Oh, duh! "Oh well…let's just go with it and see what happens."

    I knew that deep, connecting, feeling of spirit. I had never felt it before. At that level. Of that type. But I knew it. And sometimes there is a feeling of not needing to be in control! Allow yourself to be guided. A sign is a sign. Coupled with the feelings, those particular sensations, it could not be ignored. A new part of a journey beginning. With the sound of the sprinklers and red-dog, Touchwood, as witness.

    Intuitively I did know the guide. After three months in the womb the ultrasound appeared to show a normally developing pregnancy. From then on I spoke to Baby almost every day until she was born - sometimes briefly, and many times for longer periods. We chose not to learn Baby's sex. I addressed the baby as 'Baby'. Speaking clearly, happily and lovingly in pidgin grammar and accent. After a while, somewhat of a routine developed. With variations on the theme.

    "Hello Baby, this Daddy! You inside Mummy! Woaah…it's fun out here. Can you hear those birdies? You hear them fellas? They singing to you! They happy fellas! Ahhh… that’s nice eh!? Can you feel that sun? Nice and bright that fella! Wahh, nice and warm that fella eh!? Woaaa…look at that this! That's doggy fella! You feel him? Oh, he's talking to you! Can you hear him? Yeah, that's him. That's Doggy fella! You inside Mummy! Can you hear Mummy? - Say something Mum! - Can you hear Mummy? Soon you gonna come out and run around and have fun,.. and we gonna play .. and swim.. and climb .. and sing ..and dance ... and laugh, and do all sorts of things! Lots of good things! That's good eh!? You gonna come and talk to us!"

    I’d sometimes present Baby 'instructions' on how to do certain things, like walking, swimming and singing. It's like, talking about it in a fun way and providing the rhythm of the action through hand contact on mum's tummy. Yep, even for singing.

    The routine quickly developed to where at the end of each session I would always say, "OK Baby, when you come out… you remember to wave to Daddy eh!? You remember to wave to Mum and Dad OK? You take your little hand and wave like this, OK? Like this", applying the waving rhythm to Mum's tummy. "You say hello! OK? You don’t forget to wave OK?"

    Emy was born via an emergency cesarean delivery about one o'clock in the morning. I was present. After her mum was stable the nurse asked if I would like to go down to the baby room to see daughter. I'm flippantly thinking, "Silly question, or what?" So I went down to the newborn room where I was asked if I would like to give daughter her first bath. Another silly question, or what?

    Baby was wide-awake and swimming! Lying on her front, kicking those little legs, flailing those little arms, trying to raise her head and succeeding, (and they say they have no control of the head), eyes wide open, catching the experience, as I supported her in the shallow tub. The nurse was great, provided some advice, and then left me with it. Talk about magic! We sang a little song, Baby and I.

    I had to work that day. After work I went back to the hospital and firstly visited Baby's Mum. She was recovering OK, though tired and sore. The moment she saw me she said, "You gotta go down to the photo room and look at the photo. You will know which one she is!" She's explaining that they take a photo of the babies as soon as possible on the first day of life. I'm responding, "Yeh, OK", as I go to be seated beside her. But she is insistent I go! Like, Go Now! Oh, OK. Well I went down to the photo room. There were like, forty to fifty photos, plastered all over three walls. And yep, Mum was right! I did know which one Baby was!

    Following the birth they wrap the babies up tightly in a small baby blanket keeping their arms inside the wrap. Now looking at all these photos, all these little faces poking up out of their tight little wraps, most asleep, or at least with their eyes closed, and some awake. And one, so evidently and conspicuously different, eyes wide-awake, little hands forced up out of the wrap, waving! To have freed her hands, to wave, at the time of the photo was… amazing!

    Now here’s a thing! Some reckon it's chance or co-incidence – that there is no significance. Others say there is no such thing as co-incidence only synchronicity. And perhaps other explanations one could conjure up. Well to me… I just knew nothing other than it was simply – communication!

    About six years later while studying early childcare I came across the concept of ‘hothousing’ – the communicating with the baby in the womb. Apparently to some so-called specialists (at that time) it is not a good idea! For me, to do, or not to do, would be a personal approach. I'm happy to have not seen that information beforehand. At the time I just followed what guided me, and I reckon, done innocently, with love, there are only benefits!
    Love benefits all.

    This is a stand-alone extract from a book-in-progress essentially about the spirit of humanity - the heart and communication.
    Photo: Emy, approximately 8 hours old. 'Day One' photo Courtesy of Royal Darwin Hospital. Photographer: Unknown Duty Nurse.
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