I've become a bit obsessed with a song by an Australian band, The Vines. Much like the ups and downs of a high risk pregnancy, The Vines enjoyed dizzying highs of making the cover of "The Rolling Stone" to the lows of the band capitulating and cancelling tours at short notice. They've had their successes along the way and I've loved their music including their grungy rockers and their soft melodic tunes. As an idea of how much their songs relax me, 2 of the 3 songs played before my wife came down the aisle were by The Vines.
Spaceship from their Vision Valley album was always a nice melodic song to me but it has never resonated with me like it is now. The song just seems to scream the emotions that I'm feeling so well. I've become a bit compulsive with it and I'm at times finding myself looping it repetitively in the car on the commute to and from work. I have no idea what Craig Nicholls, the lead singer, was trying to convey. I'm sure it wasn't to capture the journey of a high risk pregnancy but I don't really care at the moment as it's giving me the meaning that I need.
At around 6 minutes, the song feels like it goes on forever and is somewhat of a divergence from most of their songs that often check in at the 2-3 minute mark. It say's "I am here and I'm going to take some time to get through". This coupled with some of the agonising slow drawn out single notes heading in a downward progression feels like that pain of getting slowly hit with one setback after another. A feeling that I see myself slipping in and out of constantly during this high risk pregnancy. Last Thursday, my wife had to have another unexpected amniotic fluid drain. She was discharged Friday and we were back at hospital at 6am Saturday as she was suffering abdominal pains. She came back home on Monday and that uneasiness of what setback might today bring has been lingering.
The song also hits you with a guitar solo that feels like a transition from slow despair in to a pent up frustration released as a rage. I think a high risk pregnancy is tough enough on individuals and, whilst family support is priceless, it's also tough to see your family experiencing the same pain. It's incredibly tough at the end of the day to hear your wife say "I hope my babies don't die". It's tough when you find yourself planning to buy a people mover for your expanding family whilst making the logical decision not to buy it just yet, just in case. You feel like a logical but heartless bastard. I think it's human to get angry, to release something back to say "This isn't cool, I'm not OK with it, I'm angry". There just isn't an obvious recipient for the message.
The final solo has to me a more of uplifting feel. It feels like a celebration after the slow periods of despair infused with transitions in to an anger. Like there is a happy ending to it all. Like I will get my dream of holding my healthy twin boys in my arms.
The Vines, to the best of my knowledge, never put together any form of video clip so I've developed one in my mind. Maybe this is a form of therapy that I need but I feel happy making the familiar repetition. I think if I had any kind of video skills I think I'd be attempting to make a video clip as a kind of healing process.
The video would be weaved with common themes of light and darkness as well as time moving both quickly and slowly. The central theme would be a father desperately trying to keep 2 candles alight. A job that is like a long slow vigil as well as a frantic rescue. The ongoing struggle is highlighted by time shifts of forest transitioning from natural beauty in daylight to an uncomfortable darkness overnight. There would be ultrasound videos weaved in. I've played this over and over in my mind so many times that the themes go in to great detail that I think I could write a script and would be disappointed at how much I'd have to remove due to the song only being 6 minutes long.
Psychologists probably have some complicated name or theory for what I'm doing. I think at the most basic form its a visualisation. I think it's working well for me due to the painful honesty about it. The 6 minute song is dominated with a stressful, unhappy outlook. However the journey littered with constant setbacks can have a happy ending. A journey that my wife and I can look back on some day and be happy of what we achieved and grateful of the loving support we had around us to achieve it.
22 weeks and 2 days today, still in no hope land but getting painfully close to the incredible lift in survival rates experienced 24-28 weeks in to a pregnancy.
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