I wish I could say it was a dark and stormy night when I was born, that would make for a better story, but it was just cold.

  My birth was rather unexpected. Not to my mother, having been advised of the possibility some months ago, and partaken in activities which might have led to it. Nor to my father who had been there during conception. No, my birth was a surprise primarily to me.

  It shouldn’t have been. I’d spent enough time swimming in the darkness listening to the sounds of the world around me filtered through skin and water to have some idea where I was. The how was a much greater mystery. How had I been reborn into a baby still in the womb? Was it a great cosmic coincidence, or the work of capricious gods? But it still came as a great shock when that darkness ended and the world of light intruded.

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  The birth itself shall not be described here but suffice to say it went exactly as you are imagining. I came out a perfectly healthy, mewling infant with the appropriate number of appendages and then had to suffer through years of nappies, cooing and the insufferable insistence that I play with dolls.

  --- Journal Entry