My first memory in my new life was of a warm place, it was a blissfully warm place. Unlike the cold winter weather outside, I snuggled down into my warm blanket trying to remember that place. I remember even the constant loud drums were comforting, and I remember it because someone had to interupt my comforting slumber.

In retrospect, I think I was in the womb, the loud drumming was my mother's heart beat, and the interruption was my twin in the womb. He kept pestering me to pay attention to him, and often punch me for a reaction. And so I punched him back. I am not quite sure, I think I even even traded places with him by kicking him closer to mom's you know what, the exit...just to stay in that happy place a bit longer. Hey, if you got a piece of heaven, wouldn't you try to stay there as long as possible?

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I remember the excruciating birth, the voices speaking in an unknown language. I remember being handed to someone and being taken away. Far away from my mother who was on the bed. My parents and the people in the room, everything was a blur, I don't even remember their faces. Why was I taken away from my birth family? I was hoping to start over with a new family. Disharkened, I welcome the sleep of babes.

I complained-cried to my care taker. He had a nice soothing deep voice that resonated well. He said something short and curt, which I can only conclude as, "Be quiet!" I laughed enjoying his voice, but tried to remain quiet, unless I needed something...like milk and a diaper change. And yep, I needed a diaper change.