Films has always been an important part of our “leisure zone”. Bad day at work – dinner, wine and a light comedy movie. No ambitious plans for the weekend – something out of Hollywood novelties. We need a little bit of reflection – a reliable European cinema. So when in the eighth month of pregnancy, I finally got home, all the clothes were washed and ironed, and suitcase to the hospital was repacked fifteen times… I could devote myself to my film addiction..

Let’s start from the TV series. In the evenings, together with M, we were eagerly watching Homeland. When I stayed alone at home in the morning, hormones took over control of the remote. With a mixture of horror (a sane me) and fascination (a pregnant me), I discovered series on channel TLC, based on real life of real people. And yes, I was moved by the cry of every newborn child on “Maternity Ward “, suffered with patients from “Embarrassing Illnesses” and considered the sense of plastic surgeries on “BodyWork”. With the arrival of Halina, my strange fondness for TLC has disappeared. There was only the love for “Grey’s Anatomy” left. Although it is also gradually dying, because how to live without Derek and his beautiful hair?!


Expecting that soon I’ll have much less time for such things, we were bravely visiting the cinema too. Our last pregnancy screening was debatable and terribly long “The Wolf of Wall Street”. I’m not mentioning its length without reason – a place at the end of the row, belly making it enable to move effortlessly, Halina working on her marching step on my internal organs, and more than three-hour movie proved to be a combination beyond my strength. I remember this day for another reason. That day, the first and the last time during the whole pregnancy, I felt what feminine solidarity and support is. During nine months I stood bravely in all queues. After two failed attempts of fighting for priority, ending with a spectacular quarrel (another time about that), I gave up. I also had such an ambitious plan when I saw the crowd in a cinema toilet. My face must, however, express such a combination of desperation and determination, that 30 women gathered there, parted without a word, like the Red Sea. And although this story helped restore my faith in people, we gave up on cinema since then. Later, when H arrived, I was getting ready for Baby Cinema, but I started it when she was already a rugrat. It was much more convenient for moms, who brought to the cinema barely contacting babies, that just slept or ate through the movie. If I ever had such chance again – I’ll try and I’ll report. Now, I’m gradually coming back to dates in the cinema with my own husband – I highly recommend it, because after such a break, it’s almost like at the beginning!


Finally, TV. I, the admirer of news programs, because of the level of stress funded by local politicians, I had to switch to breakfast television. Pathetic – you’ll say and you’ll be right, but… Although hormones and parenting effectively washed me out of ambitious tendencies, they didn’t deprive me of the rest of my brain. And so I treat programs airing in the morning (if I have time), as a intellectual entertainment and sociological experience. Because how much joy comes with a 15-minute material about the horse painting pictures. After all, it’s freedom for art in all its glory!

When it comes to the TV, apart from breakfast television, there are also movies. You know that they are re-runs. They are oldies, but it’s also no surprise. But take a look on what they emit at 3 am! Thanks Halina and her abstract bed time, we watched, for example, a film about murderous creeper from a Mayan temple, which allured its victims by pretending the sound of a mobile phone. SERIOUSLY. The story was so surprising, that in the morning I was convinced that it was only a dream. How surprised I was, when I discovered that M had the same dream.


So – I recommend cinema to singles, sleepy parents and pregnant women. Watch out, however, to choose something from the multitude of films, that won’t necessarily be remembered as a nightmare.

Photos: Pinterest

translation: Agnieszka Wawiórko