The other baby answered, “Why, yes, of course. There has got to be something after delivery. Perhaps we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”
“Nonsense” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”
The second replied, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we cannot comprehend right now.”
The first snorted, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. And the umbilical cord is so short that life after delivery is illogical.”
The second insisted, “Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this cord anymore.”
The first replied, “That’s stupid. If there is life, then why has no one ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”
“Well, I don’t know,” answered the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”
The first laughed, “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s moronic. If Mother exists then where is She now?”
The second replied, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by Her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her our world would not and could not exist.”
Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”
To which the second responded, “Sometimes, when it’s quiet and I focus and really listen, I can perceive Her presence, and I can hear Her loving voice singing over us from above.”
— written in 2012 by Czech psychiatrist Jirina Prekop MD, who authored Erstgeborene and has co-authored Auf Schatzsuche bei unseren Kindern.