100 Books Like Motherhood

Unlike Ivey’s other book The Snow Child, which grapples with the grief of infertility (a book I also love!), this book considers the opportunities a life without children allows for.

It opens with Lieutenant Colonel Allan Forrester as he prepares to lead an expedition into Alaska in 1885. His wife, Sophie, is an explorer in her own right and plans to accompany him—until they realize she’s pregnant and decide she has to stay behind.

Spoiler: Sophie miscarries and learns she will likely never be able to carry a baby to term. But this isn’t an endpoint for Sophie: instead, it sets her on a path toward professional and creative success, as well as love and happiness in her marriage.

We’re used to reading about how motherhood gives life meaning—I loved Ivey’s portrait of how not having kids can do the same.

This book sticks the reader in the middle of a maternity ward in poverty and flu-stricken Dublin circa 1918. I was totally rooting for nurse Julia Powers, an experienced maternity nurse who works long, thankless shifts trying to keep women and their babies alive.

The lack of medicine, staffing, and money is appalling as women enter the hospital to give birth. Yet through empathy, determinism, and quick thinking, Julia, her trainee, and her patients find ways to help each other. It’s a tour de force in female friendship, intelligence, and problem-solving and an indictment of the medical incompetency of male physicians.

It illuminates a cross-section of Dublin citizens struggling with poverty, the Great Flu, and the aftermath of a horrendous war. I found the story moving, gripping, and somehow hopeful.

This book is a tour-de-force—a beautifully written story about Marian Graves, an Amelia Earhart-type adventurer during the prohibition era, and Hadley Baxter, the actress set to play her in a movie more than half a century later.

I really enjoyed how the two stories are in conversation with each other; both women determined to chart their own courses in very different eras and what they learn about themselves in the process. I was also struck by the intense obligation the actress feels to get this character right and the personal toll it takes as she discovers how similar their emotional lives may have been.

This book provided a true escape just when I needed it most, and I could have kept reading long after I turned the final page.

Lily King’s Writers & Lovers is set in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1997, where my own novel takes place a century earlier. It’s a fictional coming-of-age story of a young woman who tries to write her way into adulthood.

Casey Peabody works as a waitress in Harvard Square, spends time with her aspiring writer friends, walks along the Charles River, and sits for hours at her desk trying to write, all of which I did in those same places at her same age and often with the same sense of longing—and which, incidentally, Victoria Swann does, too, albeit while wearing a floor-length skirt and using a fountain pen.

Casey, Victoria, and I, (and I assume Lily King herself), were not alone: so many people I’ve met over the years have spent time in their twenties hanging out around Harvard Square, anxious and waiting to become the grown-ups we hoped to be.… show more.

This 1965 novel by English author Margaret Drabble follows protagonist and PhD student Rosamund as she becomes a single mother.

Educated, upper-middle-class Rosamund narrates with a quintessentially British and—for me—highly enjoyable blend of primness and humor. Fascinatingly and somewhat frustratingly, Rosamund keeps her pregnancy a secret from her daughter Octavia’s father, even after Octavia is born. She’s like a strange English Virgin Mary who studies Elizabethan sonnets and really doesn’t want to “put anyone out”.

Her story also offers an interesting glimpse into class issues in 1960s London and the way that experiences of pregnancy and motherhood can both transcend and accentuate class divisions.

Kristen is a friend of mine, and I felt a strong sense of kinship to her work not only because I admire her personally but also because it deals with so many of my novel’s own themes—grief, family, unplanned pregnancy.

Motherest’s main character, Agnes, is a college student who describes her life on campus, her pregnancy, and the loss of her beloved brother through a combination of traditional narration and a series of letters written with increasing urgency to her absent mom. Agnes’s voice and letters are both hilarious and heartbreaking. Every once in a while, you meet a character who you miss when their story ends—for me, Agnes is one of them.

I loved this novel for its savage intelligence and frank exploration of the problems of inhabiting a body while trying to live a “life of the mind.”

Protagonist Dorothy is an adjunct English professor whose ectopic pregnancy and miscarriage are not so much the subject of this book as a metaphor for Dorothy’s life in general: her hopes have not materialized, and her nonstop thoughts rarely lead to action. Readers who have struggled to claw their way up the academic ladder (particularly those who’ve spent a lot of time at the bottom of that ladder) will especially enjoy this book.

Be prepared for visceral descriptions of Dorothy’s body—of all that it produces, and all that it fails to produce.

This blunt and surprising short novel is translated from Italian by Ann Goldstein and narrated by Leda, a middle-aged divorcee, professor of comparative literature, and self-identified “unnatural mother” who becomes infatuated with a younger mother she meets at the beach while vacationing alone. It’s an engrossing yet uncomfortable read; Leda’s descriptions of her maternal ambivalence are unnervingly yet refreshingly candid and often dark.

Readers who are prone to categorizing characters as “likable” or “unlikeable” will probably put Leda in the latter category, but one of the things I love most about Ferrante’s work is the way she explodes those categories, not focusing on the rightness or wrongness of her characters but rather honoring their complexity with brutal honesty.

Any "New Mom" book that is written with humor and honesty is OK is my book! Ms. Wilder's book is refreshing, honest, and funny on many topics "new mom" related. She discusses many issues a "new mom" will encounter. She starts with the issue of "instant bonding"—what a relief to know that I was not only one to take a few weeks to fall in love. From there she discusses other biggie "new mom" topics - the realities of breastfeeding, bottle feeding, baby-blues, feeding solid foods, babysitters, venturing out with your newborn, other new mothers, handling friends without children, sex after baby, A-type mommies, and different parenting styles, and much more. This is a book you can read in one sitting or one topic at a time. The author's honest, witty style is engaging and entertaining, and I suspect will give many "New Moms" a peaceful night's sleep.

I love the way Sarah Menkedick draws from her experience as a first-time mom and researcher of mothers suffering from perinatal conditions and institutional racism to illustrate the ways living a fear-based life has become normalized in American motherhood. I was encouraged to read her candid discussion about the paralyzing anxieties new moms face while trying to meet unrealistic societal expectations. 

I appreciated her keep-it-real speak regarding mothers’ feelings of anguish that go beyond the category of “postpartum depression” in the years that follow childbirth. This book really helped me feel less alone, especially as a mom from a historically marginalized background. I regained some hope that one day I too can reclaim my identities (those that are outside of motherhood) without fears cramping my flow.