I live in Music City. I work as a doula. Our Nashville hospitals are within miles of famous, or infamous, Music Row. I have always been a musician, in his own right my husband is a musician. Our best friends are amazing musicians: Shirock. It is not something we do, it’s as integral to our lives as eating, sleeping, and breathing. Which is why, when I heard the following story, originally heard on npr’s all things considered, I had to give it space here.
Marco Benevento lives in New Jersey. He is a pianist and jazz musician. His most recent album is entitled “Between the Needles and Nightfall.” Without having heard his music, you guess he may play some intense music. Or have an intense drug issue. After all, where do most folks imagine needles in association with musicians? Sorry guys, I’m afraid Lost’s Charlie has propagated the stereotype even further.
But find Benevento’s music, hear the beauty in the jazz, and now learn why needles. Benevento’s second daughter was born at home, and to induce labor his wife experienced acupuncture treatment. After the treatment their midwife commented that “Hopefully, you’ll have your baby between the needles and nightfall.” Their daughter, Ila Frost, was born just before dark.
Somewhere between Music Row and downtown Nashville, somewhere between your bed and your bath, somewhere between the east and the west, babies are born everywhere, all the time. Somewhere between inductions and c-sections, somewhere between acupuncture and moxibustion, somewhere between foley bulbs, prostaglandins and amniotomy. Way to go Benevento, you have won me as a fan for your educated decision to have a homebirth, and to chronicle it through your music. Another event in the circle of life, music, and death.