Pathways Speaks with Carol Bowman

Pathways Speaks with Carol Bowman
Author of Children's Past Lives and Return From Heaven....

Listen In as Carol shares some wonderful information on Children and Past Live Memories.

Cousins!

Souls sometimes travel in groups.  The idea of soul mates is common in fiction as well as in serious books on reincarnation.  But what happens when one of two souls with an implicit agreement to travel together exercises its free will and vetoes the plan for the next incarnation?  Like any traveling companions who don't see eye to eye on the itinerary, quarrels ensue.  This next story is an example of exactly that kind of disagreement.  Notice how the quarrel between the two brothers, Sam and Peyton, affected Sam's personality until he finally came to accept his fate.

The story is condensed from the journals the mother, Jodie kept as it was unfolding.  Sam made many more statements not reported here in which he gave accurate details of his birth and at least two past lives, and he described "the other world" where he lived before he was born.  He is one of those young children who have such clear prebirth memories that they can't understand when nobody else remembers, and are frustrated when none of the adults around them can answer their questions.

Sam's first word was cousin.  I recorded this odd fact in his baby book under the entry: "first words."  Now that I know the whole story, I understand why that word meant so much to him. 

Sam was obsessed with his cousins since he was a baby.  When we first took him from Sacramento to visit them in San Francisco, before he could talk, he was visibly changed from the moment he saw them, excited and happy to be with the four cousins and his aunt Molly and uncle David.  But his continuing obsession didn't make a lot of sense because the cousins were much older than Sam - six to twelve years older - and we didn't visit them more than a couple of times a year.  But every visit was a huge event for Sam.  He loved being with that family.

David and Molly are the brother and sister-in-law of my husband, Michael.  The first time we visited them, I noticed in their bedroom a little memorial they had for the twins Molly lost during pregnancy.  But Michael warned me not to say anything about it.  He said no one talks about it, it's too painful for them.  She lost them at eight and a half months.  We learned later that the umbilical cord that sustained both babies was defective and got kinked and both twins died.  They would have been David and Molly's second and third children, after Kevin, who was the oldest; her other three children are girls. 

Even though I didn't know Molly very well, I asked her to be with me at Sam's birth.  I didn't know at the time why I asked her - I had other family who were closer.  When I told her my due date, October 19, she responded, "Oh, my God, that's the day I lost the twins."  She went out of her way to be at Sam's birth in 1994, and again at Peyton's birth in 1996.  Even though Molly and I didn't see each other often, we became very close.

From the time Sam figured out that the car was the vehicle that would take him to his cousins' house, every time we got in the car he would yell, "Cousins! Cousins!"  I would have to break the news to him that we were not going to the cousins' house, but we were going to the store or the library or the park.  He would pitch a fit!  It got so bad I actually avoided using the car if I could walk to where I was going.  Every time we got in the car he would have a meltdown because he wanted to be with the cousins.  When we actually didn't intend to take the family trip to see David and Molly and the cousins, we couldn't tell Sam until the last minute, because if we did he would camp at the front door days in advance, waiting to go, and all we would hear would be "Cousins, cousins, cousins."

Sam also made strange remarks from the time he was two and first able to talk.  He would ask me why he couldn't live with his cousins.  He would say, "If the cousins knew how much I wanted to go to their house, they would let me come over."  He would also reproach me constantly: "why can't you do that like Aunt Molly does it?"  If I made a list of all the things he wanted me to do like Aunt Molly, it would be a mile long.

Once he asked, "Mom, when can I live with the cousins in the big house by the water with the big stairs?"  I pointed out that the cousins live in a big house with big stairs now.  He said, "Not that house, Mom.  The other house.  The stairs which didn't have carpet and I could hear them walking up and down the stairs.  So when can I live in that house with them again?"  I had no idea what he was talking about.

"You can't go live with the cousins, Sam.  You live here."

Sam cried, insisting I let him go.  He brought up the house by the water again a few days later.  I cut him off with, "No, you can't go live with the cousins." He got angry and ran out of the room.

Sam was a high-energy child and he was often angry; he was so wound up inside he didn't know how to release.  But when we had these run-ins about the cousins or the way Aunt Molly does things, he would really lose it and throw an awful tantrum.  I was completely baffled by his strange behavior.  Looking back on it, I probably made it worse because he had worn me thin and I lost my patience with this cousin nonsense.  I would tell him to stop talking about it, I didn't want to hear it, and no, we were not going to the cousins' house.  I was always pushing back.

As he got older, Sam began insisting that Molly's family was his real family.  I would have to explain to him that they weren't.  This went on for about two years.  About six months ago, when he was four, things began to escalate.  These episodes usually happened in the car or while cuddling at bedtime, but this time it popped up while I was in the kitchen reading.  Sam burst into the room mad, hands on hips, extremely excited, and asked, "Why isn't Kevin my big brother?"

I tried to stay cool.  I explained to him that Kevin was his cousin, not his brother; Peyton was his brother.  But Sam would not accept this.  "Why isn't Kevin my big brother?  Why are you keeping me here?  I want to be with him right now.  Why don't you ever listen to me, Mom?"

I said, "You have to stay here because this is where you live.  We are your family.  Peyton is your brother and Kevin is your cousin and nobody can change that."

He ran out of the kitchen, crying and whining between his sobs, "I want to be with them!  Why does it have to be like this?"

"Why Didn't We Get Born Mom?"

Then one evening a few weeks later, we were all winding down before bedtime and Sam asked, "Mom, do you remember when I was in your tummy?"

I said, "Yes."

He asked, "Do you remember when Peyton was in your tummy?" Again I agreed.  Then he said, "Do you remember when Peyton and I were in your tummy at the same time?"

I explained, "No, that's not the way it happened.  You were in my tummy first, then you were born.  Then Peyton was in my tummy, and then he was born."  I pointed to Peyton, who was playing quietly on the floor, sucking on his pacifier.

Sam got a blank look on his face, like someone who has misplaced his car keys.  Then he started laughing with relief and said, "Oh, now I remember.  You're wrong, Mom!  We were in Aunt Molly's tummy at the same time and we didn't get born!"

I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.  I immediately understood what he was talking about.  Sam and Peyton had been the twins that Molly lost ten years before my two children were born.  Everything began to make sense.  But before I could collect myself, Sam got very angry and began yelling at me, "Why didn't we get born, Mom? Why didn't we get born?"

Then, before I knew it, he took off after his little brother, screaming, "It's all your fault!  I told you I wanted to get born really bad and you didn't want to!  Tell me how you took me out of there!"  I lunged at Sam and grabbed him and held him back because he was so furious I was afraid he would hurt his little brother.  His anger really scared me.  I told him to stop, that this was a crazy conversation, and he had no idea what he was talking about.

Sam stopped abruptly, spun around, and corrected me.  He said he knew exactly what he was talking about.  Again he confronted Peyton, yelling, "How did you do that?"

Peyton just sat there with his pacifier in his mouth, watching his brother.  Peyton, unlike Sam, is a calm baby and rarely gets upset.  But I was concerned how he would react to Sam's angry challenge.  Peyton pulled the pacifier out of his mouth, and his little face got more angry than I have ever seen it.  He yelled at his big brother, "I wanted Daddy!"

Sam fired back, "I didn't want Daddy, I wanted Uncle David!"

I was shocked.  I yelled, "Sam!"

 My scream shocked him back into his senses.  Immediately he stopped trying to attack Peyton and his angry face turned very sad.  "I'm sorry, Mom," he apologized.  "I didn't mean it.  I love Daddy, but I wanted Uncle David, too."

Not sure what to say, I offered, "Didn't anyone come here to be with me?"

That melted Sam.  He came over and cuddled in my lap and said, "Mom, you're the best mom.  I love you."

I started thinking about how I would explain this to my husband, Michael.  Would he believe any of it?  Then Sam said, "I've got to figure this out."

I said, "No, I've had enough of this conversation."  We all started to calm down.  Peyton went back to sucking on his pacifier.

But then Sam jumped up on the bed and started counting on his fingers.  "First I was in Aunt Molly's tummy and I didn't get born.  Then I tried to get back into Aunt Molly's tummy but Sophie [Molly's youngest daughter] was there in the way.  So I tried to kick her out."  Sam must have seen the surprised look on my face because he repeated, "I tried to kick her out and that didn't work, Mom!  Then I got in your tummy and then I got born."  He paused and then said in all seriousness, "I sure did work hard getting here, Mom!"

I didn't know what to say.  He jumped off the bed and asked triumphantly, "Now can I go back and live with the cousins?"

This was all a little too much for me.  I suggested we go get a drink of water.  Sam took my hand as we walked down the steps.  He asked me, "Does Peyton always have to follow me every time I'm born?"  I told him I didn't know, that he probably remembered better than me.

He ran back up the steps to Peyton.  I followed, curious to see how Peyton would react.  Sam told his little brother what he had just remembered.  Peyton started laughing.  To my surprise he seemed to understand completely.  I sat there thinking, "These two are talking about something that happened long before they were born, in a world completely unknown to me.  And they're acting like it's normal."  It was all very strange.

Switching Tummies

Although Sam is more vocal than his younger brother about all this, Peyton clearly has memories too.  A few days after this outburst, I noticed that Peyton, who had just turned three, was staring at a picture of Uncle David hanging on the wall in our bedroom.  I picked him up and said, "Do you want to see the picture?"  He started hard at it.  I asked him, "Who is that Peyton?"

He said, "Daddy."  He repeated insistently, "Daddy. Daddy!"

About five pictures down from this was a picture of Michael, his father.  I asked Peyton, "Well then, who is that?"

He had a very puzzled look on his face and questioned.  "That's Daddy?"  Then he pointed back to the picture of Uncle David and asked, "That's not Daddy?"  I said, "No, that's not Daddy.  It's Uncle David."  A look of recognition dawned on his face and he muttered under his breath, "Ooooh."

Recently we were making a homemade birthday card for Aunt Molly.  I asked the kids what they wanted me to write on the card besides "Happy Birthday."  Sam said to write, "I miss you and I want to see you soon."  Peyton said, "Tell her I was her blue baby and now I'm Peyton and now I'm red."

I exclaimed, "What?"  He repeated it in exactly the same words.  I decided not to write that in the card.  I wrote "I love you" instead as his contribution.

Sam and I reached a turning point one day in the car on the way to school.  He told me about a dream he had.  I wasn't sure if he really had the dream, or if he was gradually distancing himself from the direct memory.  But he said it was a dream.  He said, "I was two boys in Aunt Molly"s tummy and then we had to switch tummies.  Peyton was the other boy.  Then he was really mad because he couldn't come with me this time and be in your tummy with me.  He was really mad.  You know what I mean, Mom?"

For the first time I didn't fight it.  I confirmed to Sam, "Yes, I do.  You were in Aunt Molly's tummy."

That was a big moment for me, because up until then I had resisted what he was trying to tell me and didn't want to hear any more about the cousins.

Then, in that moment, instead of pushing against him I joined him.  And from that moment, Sam began to change.  The arguments stopped.

I told Michael about these incidents.  He didn't know what to think, but he didn't laugh it off either.  He thought it was time to tell Molly and David what was happening.  The next time we visited them we broached the subject delicately, telling the story of some of the things Sam and Peyton had said.  I was afraid how they would react.

But to my surprise Molly was overjoyed.  She said it explained so many things; why she just had to be at the boys' births and why she loved them so much, like they were her own sons.  She thanked us and told us what a great relief it was to know that her twins were back.

Getting it all out in the open gave us a chance to confirm some of the things that Sam had said.  We asked her about the house near the water with the uncarpeted stairs.  She said, "Oh, my God.  When I was pregnant with the twins, we lived in a house right on the bay; it was the only house we ever lived in that had uncarpeted stairs.  We moved from that house three days before the twins died!"

Molly and I arranged for her to spend some time the next day alone with Sam.  While they were together, she showed Sam a picture of herself pregnant with the twins.  She asked him, "Do you know who's there in my tummy"

Without hesitation he answered, "Me and Peyton."

She continued, "But you weren't born, Sam.  Can you tell me why you weren't born?"

Sam thought about it for a second, and then told her about his dream where he was two boys and switched tummies.  Molly, hoping for insight into the loss of her twins, asked again why he didn't come.  But Sam just got a funny look on his face and wouldn't say anything more.

The next morning I asked him if he had told Aunt Molly about the dream.  He said that he really couldn't tell her everything.  When I asked him why not, his response surprised me:  "I couldn't tell her because they would laugh at me."  I assured him that no one would laugh at him.  He countered, "They would laugh at me because they know it's not allowed."

I didn't understand what he was saying and asked for clarification.  "What's not allowed?"

He said, "Switching tummies.  I had to get permission for that."  Then he got very quiet and guarded, as if someone were looking over his shoulder.  I realized there was something that he wasn't supposed to tell and I wasn't supposed to know.  So I dropped it.

Sam brightened and said, "Mom, I'm going to let you be my mom, and you can tell me what to do. Okay?  He said it like it was a solution that had just occurred to him.

I said, "Thank you, Sam.  That will make my job a whole lot easier."

Since that day I acknowledged Sam's memories and he accepted me as his mother, his behavior has been totally different.  He's not dark and angry anymore.  He wakes up in the morning with a sunny smile on his face.  He's much more relaxed and easygoing and his frequent temper tantrums have almost completely stopped.  And he openly accepts us as his parents.  Recently he told me, "I'm so glad I have you as my mom," and he told Michael, "I'm so glad I have you as my dad."  We all feel much more at peace. (Sometimes, though, I still have to remind him that he gave me permission to be his mother.)

And Aunt Molly's life is changed too.  She feels that if my two kids are the same souls as the twins she lost, she is blessed to have the privilege to be a part of their lives now.  Last month she baby-sat Sam and Peyton on the anniversary of the twins' death.  That was an emotional day for her.  I know it helped her get closure on their deaths and get closer to Sam and Peyton.

(Return From Heaven, excerpt is shared with the permission of the author, Carol Bowman - pages  166-175) 

(C) Carol Bowman - All Rights Reserved