The delivery of the baby (aka me) did not go without complications. Both mother and child where exhausted by the ordeal and required a lot of time to recover. 

So for the first days of my new life I was alone with my new mother and the servant nursing us back to health. I took most this time to get accustomed to the idea of being reborn. My thoughts went something like this: 

Holy shitballs what happend? Where the hell am I? I literally just died and then there was darkness and blood and screaming and holy crap was I just squeezed out of a vagina?!!!

So to sum it all up, I was very confused. I knew I was reborn, the evidence was too strong to deny. And I certainly knew I had died before, because I could still remember it vividly. So a lot of my time was spent trying to sort out my previous memories, and honestly, trying to handle the depression of realizing that the only life I had known was over. All of this was very hard for the brain of a newborn baby to handle. 

But even tho I still have the mind of my 29 yo self I seems by brain still suffers from the physical limitations of a baby. Even if I could still remember my previous life and all it entails my brains main focus is on the simpler tings: food. Sleep. More food. More sleep. The embrace of my mother. If it wasn’t for the nightmares of the screams of my first mother as I lay dying on the floor everything would have been great. 

The rest of my time was spent in the company of my mother. And it is scary how much I trust and love a woman I basically don’t know. But against all reason I just do. The bond between a mother and child goes both ways. 

——————————-

Several days was spent in peace and quiet. I tried to work on my speech and movement, but there is much limitation in such a small body. At times I was so frustrated I simply started crying. But my mother was always there to soothe me. 

One day as I was waking up from one of my nightmares my crying didn’t bring the warm embrace of my mother. 

“Oh no the baby is crying” 

A voice I recognize as belonging to one of the hands that usually brings me to my mother approaches my crib. 

“What should we do, the lady usually calms her down. And she isn’t here anymore” 

An new voice joins the first and adds in a shrill voice. 

What do they mean? My mother was just here. Is she in another room? 

As my poor little baby body can’t handle too much stress and the adrenaline caused by my nightmare still courses thru my veins my crying intensifies. I can still hear the panicked voices of the maids as a loud bang stops both me and the maids. 

“What’s going on? Why is the baby crying?”

A burly voice asks as it comes closer to my crib.

“my lord the baby just woke up and started crying. We can’t get her to calm down. She misses her mother”

The last part was said in a hushed voice with both sadness and fear. 

“Hmph. Well there is nothing that can be done. She is no more. So make the baby stop.”

“But my lord, the baby probably needs to feel safe and the warmth of family. So if the lord would hold the baby she will surely stop”

“Hmph such nonsense. She can’t even tell a person from a sheep, so how would she know who is holding her?”

The burly voice said so in an dismissive voice, yet stepped closer. He stretched out his arms and slowly lifted me up into his arms. His hands were rough but gentle, holding me close but like I was to break at the slightest touch. 

“See my lord, she is calm now. She certainly know who her father is”

The man doesn’t reply. Instead he leans close to me and looks at me for what seems like the longest time. Even tho my eyesight is rather bad I can still see the lines of sorrow in the mans face as he is looking at me. And for just a second his face turns gentle and he murmurs 

“Truly her mother’s daughter”