An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination, by Elizabeth McCracken

I don't remember where I first saw this book or heard about it. But I do remember feeling a very strong urge to purchase it. I sat on that feeling for a few weeks until I did purchase the book. And there it sat for over a year - actually almost 2 years.  I was scared to read it. Not ready to read it. Terrified.

Why?

It is a memoir of her journey through the loss of her son and subsequent pregnancy.  So, this year. This 6th year. This horrid, painful, weeping, wailing, gnashing of teeth year...I picked it up.  I didn't want to face this path alone.

I like EM from the start admits to not being a Christian.  "Good!" I thought. "I am not in the mood for the fluffy, happy, everything is wonderful despite a horrible tragedy christian book."  I could relate to her joy at being pregnant, normal first pregnancy jitters and excitement.  Reading to the baby, talking to the baby. Already reorganizing life to baby.  Then baby is gone.

I appreciated her transparency and willingness to share so much with us.  I cried my own grief tears while reading.  It almost gave me permission to grieve.  to miss my sweet luke.  I found myself jealous at her getting pregnant again so easily.  Or even being able to at all.  I felt anger at the nurse who tried to just blow her off.  I was cheering for her when she said that there can never be closure to something like this.

She said things that I wish I could have said.  She said things that I have said.  But we both have a hole in our hearts where our babies should have been.  Just another way I am certain I was not alone.