Haunting

I recently commented on a BBC birth board, offering virtual hugs and hope to a woman who just miscarried.  She was blaming herself and I offered the 1 in 4 statistic. And yes, I noted that I refused to blame myself for my eight losses.


She replied and asked how I kept going.


I kept going because I truly believed that the spirit of the baby I was trying to have was haunting me.


I always worry that framing my perseverance this way makes me out to be a loon, but sometimes vocabulary fails us, and honestly, it's the most accurate way I can get my point across.


There's a movie out on Netflix now called "Private Life" and by all reports it's a horrifyingly accurate portrayal of a couple in their forties trying to have a baby, ultimately exploring donor eggs and adoption.  The reviews of it on various support boards have all been positive so....


I downloaded it last night and wanted to check out a few minutes of it.  The opening scene has Paul Giamatti stabbing Katherine Hahn in the ass with what is supposed to be a progesterone needle.  Everything about the staging, her position on the bed, his apology for hitting a nerve, the bad of frozen peas, every fucking thing about the first four minutes of this movie told me I need to get in the proper headspace to watch it.  It was TOO real.  Not that I watch much these days, because S is only sleeping in 3 hours stretches at night right now.


I'll try to watch it this weekend and post a review, but keep in mind my inlaws are staying over this weekend, so watching a movie from start to finish is sort of aspirational.  I gave Viking the heads up that he might want to see it with me, he loves Paul Giamatti.  But I am also worried about being a crying mess from it.