Nos petites bulles (Our Little Bubbles)

Aline, a 30-year-old woman, and her husband David have been through five miscarriages in three years. A difficult path of joy and grief that tests both their love and their resilience. But Aline and David refuse to be beaten, and decide that these five lost pregnancies will not be the end of their relationship, nor of their plan to become parents.

For three years, Victor, a young director, followed their wish for a child up close with his camera. An intense, intimate story, just the three of them behind closed doors. When Aline gets pregnant again against all odds, their life is transformed and lit up by this new hope. But hope doesn't come alone: with this unexpected news, Aline's deep fear comes back too, the fear of losing this pregnancy as well.

As the months go by, a new horizon opens up for the couple while the pregnancy reaches term. For Aline and David, this last pregnancy allows them to put into words what each of them has been through over the past four years. A dizzying realisation, filled with hope, joy and guilt.

Our Little Bubbles is a sensitive, luminous film, a notebook of friendship and intimacy that bears witness to something young women today often keep quiet: how hard it can be to have a child. A film without shame and without taboo.

The film

One summer, I go for a walk in the woods with my friend Aline, and she opens up to me at length about how she is feeling.

I've known Aline's gentle, affectionate eyes since we were twelve, but over the last three years a sad weariness has worn down her gaze.

She lost her fifth pregnancy last March. This fifth loss is a serious blow, and I sense that the decision taking shape will be a major turning point in the lives of Aline and her partner David.

Aline is starting to consider IVF (in vitro fertilisation). Until now, it was a step she had refused to take. Even though her early miscarriages had left her very weak, a natural pregnancy was still possible. The doctors agreed: "There was nothing more to worry about, it was just a matter of time."

I can feel that the trauma of these last three years is still very present in Aline's body and mind. Aline and David refuse to admit defeat. Their determination moves me, but it also worries me for Aline's health.

It's hard for family, friends and acquaintances to talk to them about miscarriage. There is a kind of reserve, and a reluctance to talk about something that didn't "exist". Little by little, a heavy silence settles around the couple as they face these obstacles. Very recently, Aline has started talking about it on social media. She writes open letters to explain what she feels, and she is starting to receive private messages from people who have been through the same struggles and who thank her for opening up the conversation.

That evening, sitting at the table with them and listening to them talk, I feel for the first time the need to go with them on this journey and, in my own small way, to create a space where the couple could share their story and invite us into their everyday lives.

What they are going through, many other couples have already had to face. That year, four of my friends went through pregnancy loss. I had no idea it could be so common.