Asasuzu and the Summer I Became a Mother

At dawn today, Aki spit up.

Spitting up is a common occurrence during the nursing period.
Whenever I think, 'She's drinking well today,' she usually ends up spitting it back up.

Past 4 a.m., after finishing washing the soiled pajamas, I looked out at the sky from the bedroom window.
The last quarter moon was shining near the constellation Orion.
I felt like looking at the sky for a while, so I lit a mosquito coil and went outside.
The pre-dawn starry sky was spread out before me.

In that silence, I heard that cry again this year.

'Kiriririri...'

Eventually, it passes the baton to the sound of cicadas, and by the time it's past 5 a.m., it can no longer be heard.

To me, this cry is the very essence of a summer morning.

But strangely enough, I only started hearing this sound after I became a mother.

Before I became a mother, I almost never woke up before dawn.

The summer I was pregnant with Shino, I was in my final month and often woke up at dawn.

The following year, I was awake for nursing.

The summer I was pregnant with Fu, I was also in my final month.

The following year, it was nursing again.

The year after that, Aki was in my belly, and I was before my maternity leave.
My days were hectic from the morning, preparing to go to work.

And this year, it is a summer spent nursing Aki.

Before I knew it, I had been spending my mornings at this hour for years in a row.

That is why I have heard this cry every year.

Without even knowing its name.

'What kind of creature is it?'

Even as I think that, I am the only one in the family awake at that hour.

Another year passed without me asking anyone about it.

Today, curious about that chirping, I asked ChatGPT.

"It's an insect that chirps like 'kiriririri...'"

"Maybe around an A-sharp."

Wait, no.

"It might be an E-flat."

Perhaps it's a habit from when I played music, but I found myself describing it by its pitch.

"It ends with a feeling of 'ri-ri-riri'."

As we traced that vague description together, the name we arrived at was the Japanese chirping cricket (Kusahibari).

I also learned that because it often chirps in the morning, it has a beautiful alternative name: "Asasuzu (Morning Bell)".

The moment I learned its name, the "summer I became a mother," which I had experienced many times, became a single memory.

Back then, I thought they were just sleepless dawns.

I thought they were just mornings sleepy from breastfeeding.

I thought they were just hectic mornings heading off to work.

But looking back, the Asasuzu was chirping through every one of those mornings.

For the first time this year, that sound has a name.

From now on, every time I hear this sound, I will likely remember the summers I spent becoming a mother.

To me, the Asasuzu is not just an insect that signals the season.

It is the sound of a small bell that has been quietly ringing through the precious moments of my life.