After my first miscarriage in 2001, I searched in vain for books on the subject. In this lonely and barren place, a book such as How to Expect What You’re Not Expecting, edited by Jessica Hiemstra and Lisa Martin-Demoor, would have been most welcome.
In her memoir, Make Me a Mother, author Susanne Antonetta recognizes the many ways we informally adopt children—as grandparents, stepparents, friends, and family members who bring children into our lives.
In Maria Hummel’s debut poetry collection, House and Fire, we inhabit a mother’s world as she cares for a chronically ill child, a timeless space where past, present, and future blur together beneath longing for health.
In many ways, language itself is at the heart of this novel. In literature, as in life, mothers get blamed for just about everything. They are held responsible for being overly attentive, or not attentive enough; for providing bad examples, …
Laurie Kruk is too good a writer for her work to be read and evaluated merely as “women’s poetry,” “mother poetry,” “feminist poetry,” or whatever ghettoizing label might be deployed to foreground thematics and downplay poetics. Nearly every poem in her 2012 collection My Mother Did Not Tell Stories contains at least one turn of phrase truly stunning in its simple perfection; in particular, Kruk specializes in final lines with an unexpected grace and ineffable power.