I
t is the wee hours, about one or two o’clock in the morning. I am outdoors lying on my back in a grassy meadow.
It is a pleasant, warm, quiet night. A full moon bathes everything in its blue-white glow, in which I am basking.
I am still myself — a man. But I am fully pregnant and moments away from giving birth. It will not be a son or daughter, however. The person I am about to give birth to is… Myself.
There is no pain, just an exhilarating, quietly radiant joy suffusing my entire body and mind. I am completely in the moment, anticipating what is to come, yet already fulfilled, wanting nothing more, nothing less. My whole being is full, my heart filled.
As I look up, I see my mother and my only sister standing above me in attendance. They do not say anything but they too are happy, quiet, and expectant.
I am at complete peace, awaiting what is about to happen.
That is all.
