When women are pregnant, we spend a lot of that time thinking about firsts. Our baby’s first cry, their first tooth, first steps. We spend so much time thinking about all the events that will happen in their first year that we can’t even comprehend that there is a lifetime of firsts ahead of them.
My son was my first child. I remember the exact moment I became a mother. It wasn’t when he was born, but actually 36 hours later. I came home with him after just one night in the hospital to find a message from his pediatrician. I needed to bring him back to the hospital right away because they were worried he might have strep B, a common infection that my OB should have checked me for, but didn’t. Because he failed to do so, I didn’t get the antibiotics during labor that would have protected my son from becoming infected.
His dad and I were living with my parents at the time, and my mom had brought me home. We turned around and she drove me to the hospital lab. When we got there, the lab tech told me he needed to draw blood and get a urine sample. I held Matt in my arms as the lab tech inserted the needle into Matt’s foot. Matt screamed and started to cry. There was nothing I could do to make it better, and I had no choice. At that moment, I realized I would give anything in the world to bear that pain for him. My instinct kicked in, and I knew I would protect him with my own life, if necessary. Although I gave birth to him the day before, it was that second day when I finally understood what it meant to be a mother.
There have been countless other firsts since then. The first time he played a song on a little Kermit the Frog Casio keyboard…he played “Mary Had A Little Lamb” and he was two. I would listen to him make up his own songs on the 16 little keys, and I knew then that he was a musician. He wasn’t just someone who played music, but music was his identity.
Eventually there was the first time I heard him play the cello, his first drum set, his first guitar, his first band, the first time he performed on a stage… He was in high school when he heard the local junior college radio station and said he was going to “do that” one day. My biological father was a radio engineer, and my mother met him while working at a radio station, so I guess he was genetically predisposed.
After high school, he went to one semester of college then drifted for a while. It was five years before he finally decided he wanted to go to school. We agreed to pay for his spring semester as a Christmas present. He had talked to various people about degree choices, and I did some research online. When I saw the Music Business degree plan, he agreed it was exactly what he wanted to do. The required courses would cover music production, radio production, music composition, and promotion. In addition, he would have to spend at least one semester as a dj on the radio station.
Today was the first time I heard my son’s voice on the radio. He said he was going to be on this station someday and he made it. I could not be more proud. I know it will not be long until I hear one of his original songs on the radio.
I have been proud of Matt every step of the way…don’t get me wrong, there have been a few disappointments, too, but the good far outweighs the bad. I’ve been to every concert, dragged him to piano lessons, drum lessons, bought software and hardware…now the result of all his efforts is paying off, and it’s only up from here.
I guess what I want to say is never tell your child that their dream is silly, or wrong, or impossible. If you believe in them, they will believe in themselves, and no matter if that dream materializes or they get a new dream, you get to go along for the ride. What an amazing ride it is.
You can listen to Matt’s original and cover music at http://www.MatthewWrightMusic.com. To hear his radio show, tune in to KSYM 90.1 San Antonio on Wednesdays at 1pm central, or online at KSYM.org.
“You shape our world with every step.
Oh, the will to fly is in your eyes.
Our strength and love all in your blood.
Our hope and pride all in your eyes.”