It's hard to imagine anything more devastating than the death of a newborn at birth. Elizabeth McCracken describes this experience in her memoir, An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination. The stillbirth of the baby she and her husband refer to as "Pudding" is the centerpiece of the narrative, which also includes much about their peripatetic and somewhat boozy writing lives. Nothing, however, was ever the same after the baby died before birth. McCracken goes on to get pregnant with her second child while still mourning the first. This book is a quick, intense, moving read. ( )

Yipes. This is the funniest book about stillborn babies I have ever encountered. The chapters are short and few, each with its own heartbreaking, beautiful writing. Worth it as a contrastive companion to Didion's "Year of Magical Thinging" and especially worth it for the description of an intern giving a cervical exam. Oh, and it's not all terrible things happening. ( )

I heard about this on the radio, and chose it for my book club. A bittersweet memoir about a woman whose first baby was stillborn, and how that experience affected her subsequent successful pregnancy.

I read this a long time ago, and wrote a review - then deleted it by accident when GR for some reason recommended a different edition of the same book. ( )

Of course, it is about grief and grieving. I knew that when I added the book to my 'Planning to Read' list. But it does not, let's use a phrase McCracken uses in her book, it does not 'take you by the throat', it does not leave you shaking with racking sobs. It did not make me weep the way I did when I watched a youtube video in memory of a 2 month old who was now dead. It tugged at my heart a lot. It also made me smile in a sad way. For this book, is witty and beautiful. There is sadness, but also, there is joy and hope.

You know what happens in the book - McCracken's nine-month old baby dies shortly before birth. A stillbirth. McCracken goes on to deliver a second baby. Alive and well.

Grief is complex. Difficult for the bereaved, but also to the outsider. How do you console the disconsolate? What words are right? What brings comfort? What words are forbidden? Is it okay to mention the tragedy? Or will that rub salt into the wound and bring forth painful memories? Is it okay to say 'I don't know what to say'? Or is that being a coward? How much time before you move on? Is there any such thing as moving on? How long do you acknowledge the calamity then?

This book does not answer all these questions. But it made me wonder. What do I say? How do I react?

Oh, but I did cry. When I read the tender way in which McCracken describes seeing the baby for the first and only time. A beautiful, new, dead baby in diapers and knit cap. Broke my heart.

Why would I want anybody to read a book that made me cry? That would probably make them cry as well? There is not only death in this book. There is life and love and profound beauty of prose. Even the grief is calm in its pain. ( )

Of course, it is about grief and grieving. I knew that when I added the book to my 'Planning to Read' list. But it does not, let's use a phrase McCracken uses in her book, it does not 'take you by the throat', it does not leave you shaking with racking sobs. It did not make me weep the way I did when I watched a youtube video in memory of a 2 month old who was now dead. It tugged at my heart a lot. It also made me smile in a sad way. For this book, is witty and beautiful. There is sadness, but also, there is joy and hope.

You know what happens in the book - McCracken's nine-month old baby dies shortly before birth. A stillbirth. McCracken goes on to deliver a second baby. Alive and well.

Grief is complex. Difficult for the bereaved, but also to the outsider. How do you console the disconsolate? What words are right? What brings comfort? What words are forbidden? Is it okay to mention the tragedy? Or will that rub salt into the wound and bring forth painful memories? Is it okay to say 'I don't know what to say'? Or is that being a coward? How much time before you move on? Is there any such thing as moving on? How long do you acknowledge the calamity then?

This book does not answer all these questions. But it made me wonder. What do I say? How do I react?

Oh, but I did cry. When I read the tender way in which McCracken describes seeing the baby for the first and only time. A beautiful, new, dead baby in diapers and knit cap. Broke my heart.

Why would I want anybody to read a book that made me cry? That would probably make them cry as well? There is not only death in this book. There is life and love and profound beauty of prose. Even the grief is calm in its pain. ( )

Just finished this book and all I can saw is wow. This is so beautifully written. There are parts that were such amazing moments - pieces that I will forever remember. I am no authority on who should read this. I would want to say that in the unity of motherhood all mothers would take something meaningful from this book - but I do not know that for sure. To know how to speak to someone who is grieving. To find small joys in immense pain. Time keeps coming toward you whether you want the world to stop spinning or not.

Short powerful chapters. A quick read. Really beautiful. ( )

A wonderful study of grief, one person at a time. Moments of levity but not in an overwhelming way- more like the black humor that erupts as a defense mechanism because otherwise a human would implode. So very good. ( )

this is a very well-written memoir about the author's loss of her first baby in her ninth month of pregnancy. ( )

Searing examination of the grief that comes with a stillborn baby. Intense and full of breathtaking moments, time spent teetering on the edge of the abyss, time spent in free fall, and time spent blinking, wondering how everything can look so ordinary after it's all over. But it's never all over.

This is an absolutely lovely book about what it means to be human, what it feels like to hurt in ways very nearly unimaginable to those who haven't been there, and what it's like on the other side of that particular ocean.

Extraordinary. The author's narration is beautiful, too.

Highly recommended. Unless you are pregnant or could become pregnant, in which case stay the hell away from this book. ( )

I adore Elizabeth McCracken. ( )

Read by the author, which is important in so personal a story. Of all the audiobooks I've "read," this is the most similar to the print version. McCracken's voice is a little low and flat, but one gets used to it quickly.

"grief lasts longer than sympathy" ( )

Far too intense and personal to assign any sort of rating to--to judge this one by silly stars seems disrespectful to the incredibly painful subject matter. It's excellent, though; rarely am I as empathetically involved as I was with this memoir. Probably not a good book to read if you are or plan to ever be pregnant on grounds of sheer horror and tragedy. (Though the sorrow was gorgeously balanced with humor and humanity.)

I think I'm through with my streak of harrowing motherhood memoirs: good to end on an up note. This book is lovely and sad and funny, and it's very well written. ( )

This is a well-written book about a very sad subject, giving birth to a stillborn baby, but strangely the book failed to move me. ( )

I found this book extraordinarily helpful as I navigated the grief associated with a pregnancy loss. While the physical aspects of our losses were different, many of the emotional aspects she described were the same. In fact, I read the book with a highlighter in hand marking the passages that expressed the way I was feeling better than I was able to express myself. I highly recommend this book to anyone who has experienced a pregnancy loss. I am very thankful to the author for sharing her story in such a wonderful, readable way. ( )

Exact Replica is a touching memoir about a woman who has gone through the unbearable pain of losing a child. Her son is stillborn after a healthy, normal pregnancy. McCracken does an admirable job of expressing her grief. Her sadness leaps off the pages and yet I wasn't sobbing all the way through like I predicted. While perhaps not everyone can relate to losing a child, its her deep pain, unbearable feelings and especially her cautious hope that anyone can understand. Her pain is somehow rewarded by the birth of another child whose sweet presence is known from page one. She juggles her grief and new-found joy carefully. And I can't help but admire her strength and even humor in the wake of such a life-altering tragedy. Whether or not you have children, you'll appreciate this book and McCracken's very personal story. ( )

Listened to audio version. Very good. Never realized the impact on a woman who has a still-born child. Although the book at times was very sad, she also added some appropriate and very funny humor. Good memoir. ( )

It's so hard to describe this book. It's heart wrenching and joyful all at the same time. I was touched and moved. McCracken's writing style, her ability to be funny while recounting very sad events, is just amazing. Highly recommend. ( )

After reading a positive review on the NPR website about this book a few weeks ago, I picked it up from the library along with an armload of other books. And yet, it sat on my shelf unopened. untouched, avoided. Unread. I just kept putting it off. The pile dwindled; the other books got returned; it got renewed, still virginal. How could I have thought that I would ever want to read a book about such a heart-rending subject?__But yesterday, I forced myself to start, remembering that positive review. And I could not put the book down. It is not so much about the stillbirth, but rather about everything that surrounds it: hope and despair, excitement and foreboding, guilt and forgiveness, incomprehension and a refusal to submit to platitudes about death. It is about grief and loss, the kindness of others - and their insensitivity, too. It is about a love between a husband and wife, a love that did not falter amidst such tragedy. It is deeply wise, hauntingly well-written, filled with unforgettable metaphors. The structure of the story-telling reflects life: it starts out and turns back in upon itself. We know from the beginning that the baby dies and yet we do not experience that birth until the end of the book. We see, too, how our lives run on parallel tracks as the new pregnancy accompanies the fresh grief of the old. __McCracken says that "closure is bullshit." Bullshit: that is what is so lacking in this book. It is searingly honest. When I finished the book, I could not figure out how my emotions were so deeply touched and yet the ultimate emotion was not sadness. All I can tell you is that in some way, a way that I can't figure out, this book, without being maudlin or sentimental, touched me deeply. ( )

Sad story about the death of a baby, a stillbirth. Took place in 2006 and 2007, ending with the birth of her second child who lives. It would be interesting to read how she feels now - sometime later. It is a sad story, full of her grief. But still she seemed to whine a lot, to be quite unforgiving of "friends" who just didn't say the right thing. ( )

powerful and good for the right reader, but not my cup of tea: sad

4.09 ( )

Simple, gorgeous and moving. Plus, her voice is just one that I completely love. She does the sad/funny thing so well. Also, she is my height. Which makes me love her even more. ( )

This book broke my heart then stitched it back together again. It is gorgeously written. ( )

A beautifully written book that, for the first time, made me realize what my mother must have gone through when her middle child was stillborn. ( )

I think there’s an old saying that you should never have to bury your child. Outliving my kids ranks number one in things “I don’t want to happen,” but sadly, there are parents who face this reality every day.

While some parents lose children days, months or years after their births, some parents lose their child before the baby is born, experiencing a stillborn birth. This happened to popular novelist Elizabeth McCracken and was the subject of her memoir, An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination.

I have never read a book like this before. As a mom, I am uncomfortable with the thought of losing a child, so I was not sure if I could read McCracken’s story. But with McCracken’s easy writing style, I finished her memoir in one day. Every page sucked me in. And while it’s filled with sadness, you get equal doses of hope and warm memories. She touched on so many important parts of the grieving process, and her reaction to other people’s reactions taught me a lot about how to support someone experiencing a loss.

There were touching moments too. Her chapters about her husband and best friend’s support made me teary-eyed. What a lovely tribute to them both.

McCracken took an uneasy subject and made it very human, very real and very approachable. While it will strike a familiar note with women who experienced the loss of a baby, I think all parents can learn from McCracken’s story. Having gotten to know her at this level, I hope to read her fictional books some day. ( )