It is quite possible and very likely that Josefine can hear what's going on outside of her warm little cacoon. This is intriguing to me and I wonder how distinctly can she hear? Does my voice sound like the teacher on Peanuts? Waa, waa, waa, waaa, wa. Or can she hear us singing in the choir? Does it sound like the warble, warble of an underwater sea song?
I began to think more about this last night as I was tooting along (sorry, there is no better word for it) on my bass clarinet during a concert. There were times tears came to my eyes (which is NOT a good thing when you're trying to read music and follow a conductor) at the thought that she can hear this beautiful and powerful music. Then, I was pulled out of my dreamy state and the reality-driven side of me said "No, all she can probably hear is the low, tonal vibrations of my bass clarinet. It might sound terrible from her perspective!"
On the contrary, during the handbell pieces she would bump around like I had just eaten a teaspoon of plain sugar. "Wow, maybe she likes the handbells...it's a soothing sound and might have a lullabye affect on her." Then it dawned on me, "Wait a minute...lullabye's put baby's to sleep. She definitely not sleeping! Maybe she prefers the bass clarinet rumbles to the soft sound of handbells. That's my girl!"
Either way, and I'll never know for sure, but I think it's amazing that she can experience everything I experience by way of sound. Even the hilarious ways Jim tries to communicate to her by saying "Poppy loves you!" through the imaginary microphone of my belly button. Oh. My. What a guy!