Though I could give an approximate date of birth and date of death, I don’t know her surname. I don’t even know if it was customary to register the children in a census in those days. If we had done so, I doubt we could have used the father’s surname, which could have been Jürgensen or something similar. Maybe we could have used my surname, but I don’t remember it. As a result, my alleged memories have no value at all for some researchers. We can’t validate them; I can’t prove that my lover, my daughter or I existed at the end of 19th century. I could be making it all up. And this is true. So, as much as it hurts, as much as it frustrates me, as much as I could talk about the depth these memories reach, the first thing I must do is accept it: I am free to tell whatever I want, I am free to bare my soul to the point of making me blush, but this won't be helpful to prove reincarnation. It is going to help only those people who are doubting the veracity of their memories, the very real possibility they have lived before. To you I say: don’t doubt. Sometimes, intuition is above reason. There are things that can’t be made up.
I know the pregnancy was quite hard, not only at a physical level but emotional too, due to the intermittent absences of her father. He was as excited as I was, but his work wouldn’t allow him to be by my side, not even then, when I most needed him.
“I am lying on the bed, wearing a white nightgown, and I know I am three or four months pregnant with Eli. And at my right side, very close, is Jan... just as always, with his blonde hair, his skin so white, his freckles, his green eyes and eternal smile. He is also wearing some kind of long-sleeved, white nightgown. He is turned toward me, and he lays his hand on my belly, and I interlace my hand with his and I almost can feel him. We are so happy together, and I love him so much...”
(Regression June 15th, 2012).
There were many slopes in the town, and I used to work selling fish in the market or helping fishermen in the fish auction. During the first months of pregnancy I had nausea and more than once I had to stop what I was doing to vomit near my stall. I also remembered a day when I had walked down to fetch water in a fountain at the end of one of those slopes. I must have been five or six months pregnant, in the regression I noticed my belly weighed a lot and I got tired easily. I got a little sick and I had to sit down on a stone bench. Soon after, an old man sat beside me and told me it was my husband the one who should carry the water. He didn’t seem to know I had no husband, or that Jan was sailing at that time. When I recovered I went on walking up the slope arduously until I got home, feeling pricks on my abdomen. Once inside the house, a wave of weakness took hold of me and I began to weep: I felt Jan’s absence was going to be really long this time, I was worried, and I really thought Jan should be with me, helping me... It was never easy to be alone, but I take some comfort thinking it happened this way because I had to use my strength to overcome so many obstacles. At the end of the pregnancy, my belly was so big that I could not even to go down to the market, and a neighbor used to bring me fresh fish and other supplies.
I was feeling so happy and proud that it was very hard for me to wait for Jan to return from his journeys. One of the best memories I have from my life in Cardiff is when I went to the harbor to welcome him with Elisabeth in my arms, so that he could see her for the first time. This scene keeps bringing tears to my eyes, but they are tears of pure joy. Jan’s face was indescribable, and the embrace he gave to both of us, one of the strongest and loving I remember. Back home, we lied together with Elisabeth between us, and she fell asleep while his father took her little finger among his. Later on, Jan acquired a rocking chair where I used to sit to breastfeed our daughter.
The birthing chair.
“The birthing chair was the horseshoe-shaped chair in which the woman giving birth sat. The Greek occasionally used a special bed or sofa for such purpose, however the use of the obstetric chair kept being a very extended custom until 17th century, and even in 19th century it was frequently used.”
Translated from: http://el-internauta-de-leon.blogspot.com.es/2009/03/la-silla-de-parto.html
“Many women over time have used a birth stool, as in the Ancient Greek carving above, because birth stools allow women to stand, squat, or semi-squat while actively pushing, then to sit back and relax between contractions.
If the mother stays seated the whole time she is pushing out the baby, a birth stool has the same disadvantages of the semi-sitting position (pushing the tailbone into the pelvic outlet and making it smaller). However, if the mother uses it to give support between shifting positions, it combines the best advantages of both the sitting and squatting positions.
Birth stools of various sorts have been very popular throughout history. Sometimes the care provider would bring the birthing stool with them to births, while other birth stools were family heirlooms, handed down through the family.
Often birth stools were close to the floor and without arms, but sometimes they were full-on chairs with backs, sides, and footrests, as in this European illustration.
Each type of birth stool has advantages and disadvantages, and some midwives and doctors had birth stools custom-made for them based on their preferences.
http://wellroundedmama.blogspot.com.es/2015/03/historical-and-traditional-birthing.html