Sweet Sounds of Motherhood


I joined the sisterhood of motherhood three months ago. Leading up to my initiation into the club, I studied up as much as I could about what to expect upon my little one’s arrival.

Of course, I read plenty of articles about the 5,000 weird and gross things a person sees her body go through after giving birth; however, most of what I read about and learned from veteran moms was how wonderful it would be to finally meet my little girl. The feel of her in my arms. The sight of that chubby, squinty-eyed face. The smell. Oh.my.gosh. The ridiculously wonderful baby smell!

However, nobody prepared me for the sounds of motherhood, which have turned out to be some of my favorite parts of this experience.

The sound of my girl’s first sweet cry in a delivery room at East Cooper Medical Center filled me with amazement and joy, not to mention relief that my four hours of pushing were finally over.

The sighs and snorts I hear coming from her bassinet at night bring me reassurance that she’s still alive and breathing, and also some peace of mind for not getting up to check that she’s okay for the fifth time in the last hour.

Her precious snores when she falls asleep on my chest melt my heart.

I can’t describe the sound of baby girl’s cries as sweet or all that enjoyable, but I am impressed with the extra-high pitch she can reach when she is really unhappy. The silence that is achieved once she is fed, changed, swaddled, or whatever was needed to make her happy can be described as nothing short of golden.

Her red-faced grunts and subsequent farts and explosive poop sounds are just downright funny. How did nobody tell me that babies can pass gas like a truck driver?

Hearing my husband’s funny, made-up on the fly songs as he puts her to sleep at night make me remember why I love him so.

Rambling conversations filled with “ah-goos,” gurgles, and squeals of delight are far more wonderful than I ever could have imagined.

And the last but certainly not the least sweet sound of motherhood I’m loving is the sound of the pop of the cork, because boy, did I ever miss my wine for those long nine months.