The Human Harvest

Is this normal? Does every woman experience pregnancy symptoms all the time? I have been wondering this for years. As a newlywed, the late period, the swollen and tender breasts, the need for a million hours more sleep made a lot of sense. At 43 it wasn’t a completely welcome idea, but it was also a beautiful thing to consider and I started to feel really excited about the possibility of bringing another child into the world.

And then I started to hear about these symptoms in a lot of the women I know who are also contactees, or people who have had been abducted or otherwise in contact with alien beings. So, I wasn’t the only one who thought she was pregnant—or in the least very confused because they are not currently sexually active! What is going on? Could this be some sort of mass human harvest?

I didn’t want to take a test. Maybe it was wishful thinking; maybe I had lost my mind. I resolved myself to going to sleep and waking up with an answer. “My subconscious will tell me,” I told myself. I did get an answer that night. One I won’t forget. And it is an answer I should have figured out as this isn’t the first time. I was in a dream state, in a hospital room all by myself. I didn’t know how I got there. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until I felt labor pains. I climbed into a large sink or tub that was very familiar to me. I noted in the dreamscape several times, “Oh I remember this from before.” I delivered, by myself, a bouncing baby boy. I remember cleaning him up and showing my children. My eldest named him Wesley Bertram—not a name I would choose—but it stuck. I woke up quickly after and thought, “Well maybe I am pregnant,” and reached out to touch my husband on the other side of the bed. My hand hit something cold and flat. I grabbed my glasses and threw on the light. “Those bastards!” I yelled out, waking my husband in the process as I realized what my hand had grazed.

Those Bastards

There, between the pillows, was the business card for the alien contact support group I started. And there was the answer. I was pregnant, but I am not any longer. Oddly enough, my husband had a dream that night that we had a son and we were sad because he was leaving. In the dream the boy was in some sort of incubator tank full of liquid. I don’t think it a coincidence we both dreamed about a son at the same time.

As I said, this isn’t the first time a baby has been taken from me, and I doubt it will be the last. I explored one traumatic experience in my article, “Dirty Little Secret,” in which I woke up during a fetus extraction only to see humans overseeing the operation. I have had countless dreams of giving birth, but most of the babies are so small—much smaller than my palm—which connotes an underdeveloped fetus leaving the womb too soon. I have memories of being on a ship and being introduced to the children. I know their names: Nathan, John, Nicolette, and now Wesley. Nathan is tall and thin, large black eyes, odd shaped head, bald, but has a typical human flesh tone I would recognize in my family. Nicolette was shown to me as a tiny toddler, head so big it looked like she could barely support it, wispy blonde hair and bigger-than-big blue eyes. John was an infant when I met him. He was loving and clingy, otherwise human looking aside from his eyes. With each child I felt a connection and a serious disconnect. I knew I was their mother immediately and yet felt so removed from them that I didn’t know how to interact.

It is not only girls who experience this. I have one close friend who remembers waking from what he would normally call a “wet dream” to hear a voice say, “We need enough for six.” Another good friend has very real memories of being introduced to his child, in-utero, being able to communicate with that child and later meeting her on a ship. The love felt for and the pain of separation from these children is something that is difficult to express in words. Not only have we lost children, but no one is going to believe us when we talk about it!

The DNA Trail

Some people believe “they” (for lack of another term) are monitoring bloodlines, watching DNA patterns over the generations. But for what purpose? My grandfather had UFO experiences. One story I was told is that he was walking home from courting my grandmother in the middle of Nowhere, Texas, before streetlights existed in that area, and sporting a good case of tonsillitis. A huge light from above shone down upon him. He looked up but couldn’t see the source. He said he ran all the way home, the light keeping pace with him and even peeked through his bedroom window as he dashed into the house, into his room, and dove under the covers. He eventually went to sleep, and in the morning discovered that he had been miraculously cured!

My father, son of the man just mentioned, has had multiple UFO sightings, and has suffered from depression and other issues most of his adult life that makes me wonder if he has had contact. My brother, all of my cousins from that side of the family, and I have all had paranormal, psychic, and UFO sightings and contact to varying degrees. I seem to be the most vocal, but this isn’t something most people want to talk about. My children and my cousins’ children also seem to be touched with psychic gifts. I know both of my children have been contacted. “Thanks for putting me back in bed, Mom,” my daughter told me a couple of years ago. She has also fallen into the harvesting cycle, being very late this month with pregnancy symptoms like me and so many others I know.

I never felt more powerless than when I realized my own children were being manipulated and hurt just as I have been. I can’t seem to help myself, so how can I possibly keep these two safe? These two children I was allowed to keep, are joys in my life, and uplift my soul, and yet I feel I was manipulated into having them so that the family lines would continue. How dare any creature outside of myself dictate when I can have children and which ones I would get to raise myself and bond with. And how dare they come and mess up the lives of these beautiful girls now, too.

A Couple's Experience

As I stated at the beginning of the article, I am a newlywed. It was such a relief to find someone who shares this trying, scary, and sometimes devastating aspect with me. Finally, I met a man I didn’t have to worry about getting creeped out because I am so weird. When camping once with his dad, sister, and two nephews, one of the boys revealed to me that he was afraid of the little man that keeps looking in his window. I told my husband what he had said and he and I both immediately knew that he was being contacted. I asked if anyone else in the family has a history of experiences. His sister has some events that have occurred that make us believe she is a contactee as well, and upon consideration, my husband’s mother suffered much the same way my father does now. Not that we have definitive answers, but I wonder if those who don’t have an outlet or even the solid recall for what they are experiencing tend to internalize, self-medicate, and struggle throughout their lives.

I am so glad my husband and I have each other to lean on through these experiences. I am glad we are able to believe and validate ourselves as we navigate this new territory together. But I fear for other children that may enter the picture. Will we get to keep any? Will they all be taken? And why are some family lines watched so carefully? How do we break the cycle? How do we become free of the manipulation?

If you have experiences like this, you are not alone. Reach out. Connect. Find your tribe for support. We need each other now more than ever.