First time I knew I'd left my body was when I was birthing my last child, my second daughter, Morgan's mom. She came faster than expected, in the labour room and I was haemorrhaging and the docs couldn't get an iv started. They finally called to the ER for a nurse who was really good at it. Anyway, the whole time I was floating just above my body. I could see it, plus everyone working frantically on me and the baby, and my mom, who'd had five kids, but never seen one born. There she was watching the birth, the baby, and her youngest going through exactly what had happened to her when she had me. I remember asking my doc if I was going to die and he told me, emphatically, "NO!" He'd been my doc since I was 8 and I believed him. To this day, I am sure that is one major reason I slipped back into my body.

When my mom was passing, very quickly, I went into my sanctum, lit the candles and incense, and *talked* to her, telling her it was okay to go, her children would be okay. I SAW her in the hospital bed AND all of her deceased family there with her, welcoming her. This was not my imagination; it was not expected, it just happened and it was beautiful and peace-filled.

kat