Each one of our babies has an album.

Not a baby album, mind you, oh no, those were jettisoned loooong ago.

No, I’m talking about music and for each one of our pregnancies there has been a soundtrack.

Well, except maybe for Max.  In thinking back, things were in such upheaval during his pregnancy and technology so primitive, I’m not sure if he had one.  I’m embarrassed to admit that his might have been Avril Lavigne’s Let Go or No Doubt’s Rock Steady.  We were kids! Anyway . . .

For the others there have been albums.  The bands that get a collection played over and over again, usually as I made dinner and cleaned up.  Like an adolescent, I would wear those tracks into the ground.  God bless my husband (and now my kids) for enduring a single album on loop heard 3 times in the course of an evening.  They deserve a medal for putting up with it.

I’m not sure why it is that I gravitate to this when expecting.  It doesn’t happen any other time – the rest of my life I’m a normal music listener, sampling from this and that and showing some self control.  Perhaps it is the constant change of pregnancy that makes my ears and mind crave consistency. That, and the beautiful memories that surround all of those songs once the baby arrives.

Philip it was The Newsboys Adoration: The Worship Album.  I cried E-V-E-R-Y time I heard the song Adoration. Tess’s was Audio Adrenaline’s Until My Heart Caves in.  I would blast those songs full volume while cooking and waiting for Jac to come home.  Ellie’s was a CD my friend Leslie sent from California, Pink Martini’s Sympathique.  Who cared that I couldn’t pronounce the name? It was amazing and it rarely left the under the cabinet CD player Nana Mickey had sent.  I’m telling you, I mourned the day that CD player died. Gemma’s record was Queen’s Greatest Hits, but I’ve already discussed that here.

And Sixtus?  Well Sixtus’ nine months belong to Mumford and Sons.

Several years ago, Neil and Jocelyn came for a visit and we enjoyed an evening out together.  When they dropped us off at home, we sat in the car at the curb while Neil played his favorite tunes at the time.

Neil’s always been good for good tunes.

He couldn’t believe we hadn’t heard of Marcus Mumford and his amazing band.  He insisted we listen to Sigh No More.  He pointed out the genius lyrics, the Catholic World View.  Jocelyn told him to play White Blank Page.  We listened, impressed.  We took the recommendation to heart and have enjoyed Mumford and Sons in the years since.  But this baby loves some English Folk Rock so it has been all Mumford all the time.

Specifically the Sigh No More album.

It didn’t take much convincing for me really.  I’ve always been a sucker for moody song writers with a guitar (wink, wink, lover of mine) but throw in an English accent and I AM SOLD.  It helps too that the songs have loads of literary references and Catholic themes.  Listening to Mumford and Sons got the boys and I chatting some more about Odysseus and his journey ( the lyrics are “So tie me to a post and block my ears).  Now, Freddy Mercury is good but he’s not quite like that.

Gemma hears the music now and comes running to “Daaanse!” This translates loosely to being thrown about which I can’t do but Jac will.  Ellie, meanwhile, has heard the songs often enough to have know her favorites, sing along and choreograph her moves precisely.  She’s a hoot.

And the babe?  Well, this baby rarely STOPS moving so it’s hard to tell if it has an impact or not.  But someday, when it can understand, I will play these songs and whisper, “These remind me of you!”

*Check out the album Sigh No More, it really is fantastic and that’s not just the pregnancy talking.  The title track is my favorite followed closely by the cave and Little Lion Man.  Thistle and Weeds is fun but a little hard core, just so you know Mama Syd – that one’s not to your liking.  And be forewarned: Little Lion Man includes “unappropriate” language as in the Mother of all bad words.  Yes, I play it anyway as the accent covers it up some.  Really should delete it from my play list . . .