Happy Reading..

In the past few weeks, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I have learned of some fellow pregnant peers who had lost their babies. That, along side of the steadily dissipating group of women on my Babycenter birth group has led me to mild nervousness. I am eager to know our kid is kicking it up in there. That s/he is diggin the flat and growing up accordingly. I have also tried to limit the amount of time I read or watch anything too emotional or negative. The other night we watched Slumdog Millionaire and there were times in that movie I wasn’t sure if I was going to throw up, start hyperventilating, or collapse into a ball of tears. That, I told myself, would be my last really painful media input until I know a little more about the kid inside me. So I put down the pregnancy books and went to the bookshelf. Most of the books I have provoke emotion or memories that unsettle. I like that about reading. Getting really involved in characters and living along side them. I tried to pick one out that wouldn’t be too negative. Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have read this book a few times before and always really enjoyed it. It is a small book, one that is good if you haven’t been reading for a while, and it is a collection of short stories. The commonality is that the characters are Indian. Some are from India, others are of Indian decent but are American. That is all I remembered. That and the short story the book is named after is about an Indian man who is a language interpreter for a doctor. I read the first story last night and had to laugh. A story about a couple that fell apart because of a miscarriage. Fuck.