My son and I share a special song, one that ties us to a unique moment in our shared history. Well, it’s special for me. I played this tune while he was a tiny, developing baby in my womb. So, I thought it was really more mine than his, considering he couldn’t possibly remember it while he was busy growing fingers, toes, and ears. Or so I believed.
As a nervous first-time mom, I devoured all the pregnancy books I could find. Confession: I skimmed through one of those books between my long naps and frequent bathroom trips. It suggested that playing soothing music for a baby in utero could lead to the baby being calmed by the same music after birth. Thus, “Washing of the Water” by Peter Gabriel became our anthem. I tried other songs (let’s just say “Like a Virgin” didn’t resonate), but this one’s lyrical beauty and haunting melody established our connection.
Whenever I played our song, the little cantaloupe in my belly would stop its acrobatics to listen. When my sweet baby shifted closer to the phone I held low, I’d gladly trade my comfort for a moment of peace. Even if it meant he was now pressing on my bladder, I preferred the deep breath I could take over a bathroom run every five minutes.
This song felt like our first conversation. While our physical bond was strong, our emotional connection was just blossoming, and this tune nurtured that bond. In those moments, everything else faded away; it was just the two of us, and nothing else mattered.
After my son, Leo, was born, I tried to play our song again, but it didn’t seem to resonate with him. At four months old, when I hit play, instead of feeling that magical calm, I found myself in tears. Holding him, I longed for the baby I had carried and the intimate moments we shared in secret. I wished he could remember those times, and the song turned from a source of joy to a bittersweet memory. I stopped listening to it, letting it fade like our 4 a.m. feedings and size 2 diapers.
Then, one day, as we were driving, a small voice piped up from the backseat, “Play the river song.” My husband and I exchanged puzzled glances. Surely he must be referring to a different water-themed tune.
“You mean ‘Singin’ in the Rain?’” my husband suggested.
“No! The river song!” Leo insisted.
In disbelief, I pulled out my phone and played the tune I hadn’t listened to in almost two years. “Is this the one?” I asked.
“Yes!” he exclaimed.
It was a moment of sheer amazement. Just like the time I bumped into Colin Firth (I swear!), this unexpected connection with my son was profound and heartwarming. It reaffirmed the special bond we share, one of those inexplicable moments between a mother and her child.
Now, let’s be real—he is a toddler, and there are moments when he insists “yes” when I ask if he wants to play with a pile of rusty nails and bricks. (Don’t worry—those nails were just pretend!) Regardless of whether he truly remembers the song, I hope he can always feel the love it represented.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the special bond between a mother and her son, highlighted by a song played during pregnancy. The author recalls the emotional connection forged through music while pregnant and the bittersweet feelings that arose after birth. A surprising moment of recognition from her toddler reignites the joy of their shared tune, emphasizing the enduring love between them.