The memories given by a Queen Mother are incoherent in the beginning. Most of their infancy in the tank is spent sorting them out, deciding which ones are the most reliable, how they relate to everything else, and which ones matter the most. Mother tries to influence this process, leaving little footnotes along the way, links to other thoughts that might help make sense of it all.
Brothers and sisters are there too, felt by vibrations in the water, and the tingle of metal in their blood, but communication is muddled and disconnected. The little flickers of electricity they emit are usually only capable of conveying feeling, though Mother's are generally more understandable and consistent. After a while associations begin to form. When Mother relays a certain feeling, the temperature will change, while a different one means there will be more nutrients in the water soon. The worst is when she tells you she has to leave, even when she says she'll be back soon.
She is easier to sense than the others. She's larger, and stronger, but more importantly, she has a host. The host has a heartbeat that mirrors and strengthens Mother's, sending vibrations through the tank. The pulsing pushes blood through her body, hot blood with traces of the same metal that is in Mother's. There's a spot where the pulse is strongest near the center. Upward it is weaker, but still stronger than everywhere else. That spot is important to them, but things are still too muddled to know why.
All this occurs before conscious thought. They swim in the tank, absorbing nutrients, and sending automated pulses of electricity through the water. Mother knows this will not last long, that they will soon develop a sense of self. She feels it when the signals they send begin to convey curiosity, even though she can't tell what most of their questions are.
There is one question she knows they are asking. They all begin to send out the same feeling, more and more as they realize all of their brothers and sisters are asking the same question. It starts out as a vague curiosity, and then they realize the implication, and worry overtakes them. They want to know if there is something wrong with them. They have realized that they all share this problem, so something very important must have gone wrong. It's one simple question that Mother can't explain to them because the electric pulses are so limited. Why is everything so dark?
They know there is a world outside the tank. Mother gave them memories of it. It is bright and colorful, full of sounds and smells. They can feel vibration, waves in the water, but it is a very different concept from music. Where is the light? Why are all of them blind and deaf? Mother knows she can't help any more than she already has. She left links in their memories pertaining to that particular question. It is a lesson in biology; the difference between the symbiont and the host. She cannot tell them why, not in any satisfactory sense. Nature, out of spite or carelessness, did not deem them worthy of sight or feeling, and yet allowed them full knowledge of what they were denied.
As they become more complex, they can almost talk with Mother. They have uncovered enough knowledge of her to translate some of her signals. At least, they and their Mother wish to believe so. Perhaps they are really only speaking with their memory of Mother, with the careful network of memory and feeling she left inside them. In this regard, they will carry Mother with them for the rest of their lives.
She tells them about the world as they sort through the knowledge she has left them. There is limited time and space to write information into their genome. She cannot teach them everything, and there are gaps and blurry areas in what she can. She tries to teach them about math and science, but there are blank spots in some of the lessons, and they will have to learn them for themselves. She tries to teach them of history, and the nature of their brothers and sisters, as well as the tau'ri and unas they will come to rule, but she knows her experience is limited. Beyond that, each of them will find the memories in a different order, and each will interpret them differently. She does everything she can, and knows it will never be enough.
Finally they are strong enough, and they leave the tank for the pouch of a jaffa. Mother sends them one last electric signal, one that triggers the memory of her own incubation. It will be dark for a long while. They will feel the jaffa's heartbeat, and may even feel the vibration of it's voice, but no one will be able to communicate with them. The only coherent passage of time is the schedule by which the jaffa meditates, and even that may be unreliable. It will not speak to them; no one will. They are to continue studying the memories she has given and learn from them. It is all they can do for the next hundred years.
If they are strong, and the jaffa is strong, they will keep each other living and healthy until the symbiont matures. If not, they will both die. It is hard to remind themselves that longer in the dark is better. If they live into adulthood, they will take a host, and finally see light and color for themselves. They will hear music, smell incense, and feel textures. They can make a place for themselves in the world, attain status and power, and by doing so, never be blind again.
If they repeatedly find themselves in a sarcophagus, as most do, it will change the chemistry of their nervous system. It will add additional stress, fear, and paranoia to that which they already have. They try to uphold an air of confidence and strength, otherwise they know they will fall. They pretend, even among themselves, that they do not still contain that primal fear they have had for so long. It is their greatest punishment, both for each other, and for hosts who do not accept their place. Their living spaces are overly bright in an attempt to fend it off. They pose as gods, demons, and all manner of supernatural beings to maintain power. They create a civilization that spans almost the entire Milky Way, and yet each and every one of them is still terrified of darkness and silence.