When I was writing my novel The Pile of Stuff at the Bottom of the Stairs I wanted the hero, Joel, to create a CD to play during the birth of his first child. I wanted this act to be a symbol of his devotion to the mother of his child and his desire to do find a role for himself in the whole messy birth business.
Prospective fathers are much mocked for their obsessions with researching the best buggy and their impotence in the labour room, but all the ones I know are just doing their utmost to be supportive. A man and a woman who’ve always found themselves to be equal are divided as soon as she gets pregnant – she is the centre of all the attention and pain, however much he tries to share in it. Creating a playlist, however small a gesture, is his attempt to show that it means as much to him. I enlisted the help of my friend Dave Barker to come up a selection of tunes, since my musical tastes stop somewhere roundabout Britpop (though they all had to precede 2005 so as not to be anachronistic). His first thoughts were of a couple of songs written for children, Bob Dylan’s Forever Young and David Bowie’s Kooks, though the latter pained him by being one of Mr Jones’s lesser tunes.
Then there are general love songs, the more tender the better. Into this category come Van Morrison’s Sweet Thing, Ship Song by Nick Cave, At Last by Etta James and I’ll Be There for You by Primal Scream.
Dave suggested some general songs that evoke nostalgia for the moment, such as Lou Reed’s Perfect Day. This leads to the characters in the book discussing whether it’s appropriate to give birth listening to a song with drug associations.
Given that most labouring women are screaming for the pethidine or something stronger, then its opiate reference seems prescient. A generally happy song to throw into the mix is Mr E’s Beautiful Blues by The Eels, which was also allowed entry to the birthing suite. Lastly, Bedbugs & Ballyhoo by Echo & The Bunnymen, not because it means anything but it sounds appealingly childish and nonsensical.
Maybe Joel / Dave has got it all wrong. Maybe what’s needed in the throes of birth isn’t whimsy and love, but a muscular rhythm or the sort of dance tracks they play in gyms to get you grunting. The more homeopathically minded might opt for a bit of whale song. Nor do I know if anyone’s actually ever managed to get their playlist on at the right time or whether any labouring woman’s ever said, ‘You know what? Forget the epidural – give me my iPod’.
Perhaps the best thing about compiling a playlist before the birth of your first child is that it might be the last time you ever get to spend so long contemplating something so personally gratifying. If nothing else, it provides you with a snapshot of a life that’s just about to be replaced with a whole new one.
You can listen to the playlist here.
Christina Hopkinson has written for The Daily Telegraph, The Times, The Guardian, Grazia and Red. Her second novel, The Pile of Stuff at the Bottom of the Stairs, was published in March. You can follow her on Twitter here.
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