What To Expect When You're No Longer Expecting - Roe Rowe Productions (1 February 2025)

I don't know how to review this show. At least not as a theatre critic. I don't want to talk about lighting or set design. Or critique performance and execution. 

I want to talk about how it made me feel. 

I want to talk about how it made a roomful of people FEEL.

If one of the prime motivations of theatre is to be authentic and truthful in the moment then this is a stunning example of exactly that. 

Everything else is secondary. 

I laughed. 

I cried. 

I could feel the honesty and compassion radiating from the stage. 

Roe Rowe and her husband Chris told the story of their pregnancy and loss with a generosity unlike anything I had experienced before.  

Anticipation, excitement, dread, devastation, and grief followed by bewilderment at the lack of support after such unbearable heartbreak. Everyone was nice, everyone was professional, but how does that acknowledge let alone begin to heal the loss Roe had experienced?

This is the conversation Roe and Chris wanted to start to address that gap. 

A vital conversation. 

A conversation that could prove to be a healing factor for so many people. A conversation that banishes any thought of shame. Or that couples are alone in facing this. A conversation that helps family and friends support their loved ones. 

There is great humour here. 

And raw emotion. 

And glimpses of anger.

But never any shame. 

It is Roe being utterly fearless and vulnerable and truthful. 

It is Chris by her side, on this journey together, every step of the way.

Roe sings. Chris plays guitar and piano. 

Original songs add to the emotional truth - not only in the lyrics but how they are delivered. 

The wistfulness of "Who Will You Be" as Roe wonders what sort of person her baby will grow up to be. The frustration and hurt of "How Are You? Not Okay." The anguish of "Goodbye" which is heartfelt in such a profound way.

There are tears and sniffles all around me. 

I'm one of the people holding back tears and failing. 

Tears for Roe and Chris. 

Tears for a friend and her husband. 

Tears because I am part of something that feels extraordinary and meaningful.

The conversation crucially includes Roe forcefully detailing what you should expect when you're no longer expecting - no more platitudes but tangible support mechanisms that help heal body and mind. 

The production honours this by creating a supportive environment with a breakout area at the back; a memorial wall for the names of lost babies; and messaging that details where *assistance can be sourced. Even the encouragement to step out if you feel overwhelmed.

The show may end but the conversation doesn't stop. So many women talk to Roe afterwards about their lived experience. Chris and director Vanessa Jensen are also on hand to discuss the production and issues it has raised. 

I thank them. For their generosity. For their honesty. And for an act of kindness I'm grateful for. 

Each person will react differently based on their lived experience and circumstances. Whether that be a form of catharsis; the ability to share their story; to begin to heal; or to walk out feeling lighter knowing they're not alone. For family and friends it gives enormous insight into what loved ones might be dealing with.

It's a wonderful show. 

An important one.

There may only be two performances in this run - grab a ticket for Sunday 2 February at 3pm - but somehow I suspect the show will have a long life far after Fringe World has finished. This is theatre in its most compelling form - raw, honest, vital, and necessary. 

*For support after suffering pregnancy loss the production suggests the services offered by Pink Elephants and Red Nose Grief and Loss.