The other day I wrote about Littleman’s love of books. The truth is, he comes by it honestly. Both his paternal grandparents are retired English professors. D isn’t a huge reader, but I have always loved books. I was an early reader and, for as long as I can remember, I have always had a novel on the go. For me, reading is a way of relaxing at the end of the day. Of allowing myself to escape from the craziness of work and the business of life.
When the fatigue of early pregnancy set in, most of the novels I chose to read were pretty light and easy. I had a number of books lined up on my eReader so that I would always have something to read during my public transit commute to work or when I got into bed at night.
The crazy thing is, EVERY SINGLE book I’ve read since I lost the baby has had a storyline revolving around a baby, pregnancy, adoption, infertility or loss. And only ONE OF THEM even mentioned the word “baby” in the description. Let me break it down for you:
Book #1 (I was reading this book when I found out about the miscarriage) included an infertile woman who suffered a miscarriage and then went on to have a baby using an egg donor and a surrogate.
Book #2 was about a career-focused woman in NYC, who had gotten pregnant unexpectedly as a teenager and given up her baby for adoption. She had kept the pregnancy and adoption a secret from everyone in her life, until her daughter showed up to find her years later.
Book #3 focused on an infertile woman whose teenage stepdaughter got pregnant. The woman ended up raising the child as her own.
Book #4 (my most recent read) was one that I purchased after my miscarriage so I was more careful with my selection. The description made it sound like it was focused on the families of some teenagers in Nantucket so I thought it was fairly safe. NOPE. One of the families struggles with fertility and then loses a baby to SIDS at eight weeks old. And if that wasn’t awful enough, they threw in a uplanned teen pregnancy too.
Maybe I’m just overly sensitive these days and hyper-aware of these situations. Maybe I wouldn’t have even noticed some of these plotlines at any other time in my life. But, I’m starting to think it may be time for change of genres. Supernaturals, perhaps? I do love some good vampires, witches and werewolves…