Small Bump by Ed Sheeran Leaves Small Wound

Ed Sheeran has betrayed me.

I love music. Not in the way where I have any special musical abilities, I was last chair in band and I sing like Scuttle from The Little Mermaid. I don’t have any sort of information beyond the average person, I know the lyrics to songs that date back nearly 80 years, but couldn’t tell you who sang most of them.  I don’t even keep up with the new and noteworthy musicians, Scuttle was my topical reference. But the love is strong.

I should feel more guilty about this one sided relationship, music has been so good to me. It has taken me out of times I didn’t want to be in, taken me back to times I was missing, and assisted me in creating a plethora of fictitious experiences. We have been through so much together. That is why I was so surprised when I was sitting at work, minding my own business, and BAM, betrayed by one of its own. By Ed Sheeran no less! How could music let him do this to me? Allow me, please, to walk you through my ten minute experience.

Imagine, if you will, a nearly five months pregnant me sitting at my desk, working hard, letting Pandora work its shuffle magic, when all of the sudden I hear this.

You were just a small bump unborn, in four months you’re brought to life,
You might be left with my hair, but you’ll have your mother’s eyes,
I’ll hold your body in my hands be as gentle as I can,
And now your scan on my unmade plans,
Small bump, in four months you’re brought to life

Oh my goodness, this song is about my baby. I need to slow down and hang on every word. When you realize that Ed Sheeran has written a song that fits your life perfectly you pay attention.

I’ll hold you tightly, I’ll give you nothing but truth,
If you’re not inside me, I’ll put my future in you

You are my one, and only
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight
Oh you are my one, and only
You can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight
And you’ll be alright.

Heavens to Betsy, it’s from my husband’s point of view. I need to stop everything I’m doing and stare at my computer as if Ed himself were inside singing directly to me.

That is exactly what I did. For the remainder of the song I sat in awe at this amazing song that Ed had written. I told myself I need to add it to my Spotify. I made a note to play it for my husband when I got home. I fell pretty hard for this song. That is, until he got to the very last line.

You were just a small bump unborn, for four months then torn from life
Maybe you were needed up there but we’re still unaware as why

…Why Mr. Sheeran? Why did you do this to me and my baby?

Now I am not an emotional person in my everyday life but when I am  at work I am a robot, there is no crying in office management, so I had no idea how to handle the emotions that had just been thrust upon me. This song sucker punched me right in the feels. There is nothing like listening to a song about losing a child in the 5th month of pregnancy while you are in your 5th month of pregnancy to cause a mild breakdown. I had grown attached to the small bump he was singing about, his small bump was my small bump and this loss hit me hard. Luckily, I was able to control my emotions and my co-workers were none the wiser.


That brings me to today, about a month and a half after my encounter with Ed Sheeran and “Small Bump.” I have forgiven music for its betrayal. We agreed that a good song should elicit some emotion, though I feel a disclaimer would have been nice.

It took me a month and a half to share this tale because it wasn’t until this morning that I heard those opening words again. My wound healed, a callus formed, I was stronger this morning then I was the first time I heard the song. I was strong enough to throw my computer out the window. Not true, no computers were harmed during the auditory consumption of “Small Bump” by Ed Sheeran. I did realize, however, that it is very possible that those pregnancy hormones people keep talking about may have bested me that day. It’s a beautiful song, a sad song, but nothing that would ordinarily send the mascara down my cheeks.

Photo by Lunchbox LP