Sharon Hewitt Rawlette writes in her essay, Beyond
Death: The Best Evidence for the Survival of Human Consciousness—It’s very common for intermission
memories to include observations of events in the life of the family the child
will later be born into, events that occurred before the child’s birth—or, in
many cases, even before their conception. In Ohkado and Ikegawa’s investigation
of 21 Japanese children with memories from a pre-birth existence, 15 of the
children (71%) reported being able to see what was happening on earth before
they were born.
In one of Ohkado and Ikegawa’s cases, a
child told her mother, “I saw you in a gorgeous white dress. You were holding a
dog.” The mother clearly recalled that, after her wedding but while she was
still wearing her wedding dress, she had returned to a room where her dog was
being kept and held it.
In a case collected by researcher Carol
Bowman and reported in her book Return
from Heaven,
a two-year-old remembered hovering over his mother before his birth and seeing
her cut her finger and go to the hospital for stitches. He even mentioned that
she’d been wearing a yellow dress. All of this was true, but he couldn’t have
seen the dress after he was born because it had gotten blood on it and his mom
had thrown it away immediately afterward.
In another book by Bowman, Hilda Swiger
describes a trip to Epcot with her four-year-old grandson Randy. It was Randy’s
first trip to the resort, but when they went into a certain restaurant, he
insisted that his dad was about to sit in the wrong place. Randy pointed to a
table and said, “That’s where you sat before.” Not long after Randy was
conceived, the family had come to Epcot, and they’d sat at that table. When his
dad asked how he knew this, Randy said, “Oh, I was following you and Mommy
around that day when you came here before I was born.”
James Leininger’s parents report that,
when he was four years old, he told his dad, “When I found you and Mommy, I
knew you would be good to me.” His dad asked where he’d
found them, and James replied it had been in Hawaii. “It was not when we all
went to Hawaii,” he said. “It was just Mommy and you. ... I found you at the
big pink hotel. ... I found you on the beach. You were eating dinner at night.”
James’ parents had once stayed at a pink hotel in Hawaii, five weeks before he
was conceived. On their last night, they’d eaten dinner on the beach in the
moonlight.
According to two studies, approximately
half of those who have intermission memories recall something about how they
came to their parents.211 There are even cases that include
memories of the events directly surrounding conception, and these memories
sometimes persist into adulthood, as the next few examples demonstrate.
One grown woman remembered her whole
life having a vision of herself floating above her parents in a mountain cabin,
feeling love and excitement. As an adult, she finally decided to mention her
vision to her mother and described in detail the cabin she’d seen. It turned
out this was the place her mother and father had secretly made love for the
first time, a week before their wedding, although they’d always said she’d been
conceived on the wedding night.
An older gentleman named Rennie, who
had a distinguished career as a U.S. Air Force pilot and intelligence officer,
reports that when he was seven, he mentioned to his mother that he remembered where
he was before he was born. Then he asked her, “Was I placed with you and Dad
when you were in the front seat of a car?” She brushed him off, calling his
suggestion “indecent.” But in his mid-20s, he asked his parents about it again.
Specifically, he asked if they’d conceived him in the front seat of their 1917
Overland. They were embarrassed to discuss it, but when he told them the
details he remembered—how they’d opened the car door and his mother had checked
to be sure Rennie’s sister was asleep in the back—they confirmed everything he
said.
A 45-year-old woman
named Nan also reports a verified conception memory. She remembers her father
coming home while her mother was making lunch and taking her into the bathroom.
Her mom insisted she needed to put in her diaphragm, but he said not to worry
about it. “I can remember that,” says Nan. “I thought, ‘Now is my chance. Here
is my door.’” When she was an adult, Nan finally told her mom about this memory
and had it confirmed that she and Nan’s father had had sex in the bathroom at
lunchtime and that it was the one time they didn’t use a diaphragm.
In contrast to these conception cases,
other children don’t seem to find their parents until the pregnancy is some
ways along. An Indian Christian named Prashant still had a memory at age 40 of
coming down from the clouds toward Earth, “zooming in” until she noticed a kind
of market or bazaar where there was a joyful couple singing together while they
clasped hands. “The man was wearing a light blue sweater and blue jeans,” she
says. “[T]he woman was dressed in a traditional Indian orange sari.” She got
even closer to the woman and remembered entering her uterus and what it felt
like to be inside the womb. When she was a child, Prashant thought of this memory
as a dream, but at age 17, she told her parents about it, and they confirmed
that, when Prashant’s mother was four months pregnant with her, they had worn
those precise clothes to the engagement ceremony of a friend. It was the only
day they’d ever held hands and sung in public, and they were at the New Delhi
South Extension market.
Finally, I should mention that there
are children and adults who remember pregnancies associated with themselves
being miscarried or aborted. Often they returned to the same mother in a later
pregnancy, or sometimes to another family member.
One of the most detailed memories I’ve
seen in this category comes from a case reported by Elizabeth and Neil Carman
in their 2013 book Cosmic
Cradle. It involves another
Elizabeth (not identified as the author of Cosmic Cradle)
who, as soon as she could talk, told her mother, “I was in your tummy twice.
The first time, I washed away. The second time, I came out like a zipper.” Her
mother had never talked to Elizabeth about her miscarriage. And coming out
“like a zipper” seems like a pretty accurate way for a toddler to describe a
C-section, which was how Elizabeth had been born.
Many years later, at age 28, Elizabeth
still had a vivid memory of the miscarriage. She said,
Mom was taking a shower.
She had her hands on her head shampooing her hair. The last thing I saw was her
looking down at me; then I went down the drain. I did not feel pain. I remember
the strong thump of hitting the shower floor, shaking everything within my
core. I recall falling out of her body in slow motion and the emptiness and
vastness. I felt exposed, no longer being in the womb, feeling unprotected. The
drain was dark; it slowly started closing up, and at that point, I died.
Everything stopped. I ceased to have awareness of that experience.
Elizabeth’s mother confirmed these
details. When she was 12 weeks along with her previous pregnancy, she felt
something fall out of her in the shower: a white glob two or three inches long.
Interestingly, Elizabeth actually remembered
initiating the miscarriage. When she was seven,
she was riding in the car with her mom in a neighborhood she’d never been to
before when she pointed at a non-descript building and said she’d been in that
building before. Her mom confirmed that this was the building where she’d gone
to the doctor during the pregnancy she’d lost. “That was me,” said Elizabeth.
“I was a boy, and you and dad had a fight. I chose to leave and come back as a
girl.” It was true that her mother had sensed her baby was going to be a boy,
and she’d fought with her husband about whether to circumcise him. Neither of
them was willing to budge on the issue. Once she was an adult, Elizabeth was
able to explain that she’d known her parents were in danger of divorcing over
the circumcision question. “I needed them to stay together to fulfill what I
came here to do,” she says. “So I chose to leave.” Though her mother had never
previously connected the two events, she did confirm that the miscarriage had
happened the morning after the circumcision argument.
Intermission memories clearly provide
an essential piece of first-person evidence for consciousness apart from the
body, expanding on the experiences of provisional death provided by NDEs and
the evidence provided by the memories and personalities of deceased persons
that recur in new bodies. Intermission memories provide crucial evidence that
memories of previous lives are not caused by mere psychic access to the past
but are due to an actual continuity of consciousness stretching from death in a
previous life through birth into a new one.
I want to emphasize that intermission
memories of using apparitions, dreams, and poltergeist effects to contact
people left behind complement NDErs’ memories of contacting people through
apparitions. Together, they provide crucial evidence that, when these phenomena
occur after death, they are at least sometimes not mere super-psi simulations
but actual reflections of the ongoing, first-person consciousness of the
deceased.
Sharon Hewitt
Rawlette has a PhD in philosophy from New York University and writes about
consciousness, parapsychology, and spirituality for both academic and popular
audiences. She lives in rural Virginia. She received an award from the Bigelow
Institute for Consciousness Studies for her essay “Beyond
Death: The Best Evidence for the Survival of Human Consciousness,” available at https://bigelowinstitute.org/contest_winners3.php. Footnotes in the essay are not
included in these excerpts.