Matrescence: On the Metamorphosis of Pregnancy, Childbirth and Motherhood

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Generally it seems like the author was, prior to and during her matrescence, securely ensconced in the sort of “feminism” that expects women to desire nothing more (or less or different) than the peak of capitalist achievement, and then those women turn 30 and realise a kid would be nice too, and expect that they can slot that in like taking up knitting. The Times and Telegraph named it a book of the year (2020) and the paperback became a Times' bestseller (2021). Jones never becomes bogged down in the material, which is quite an achievement considering its scope. Radical, questioning and profound, it urges us to recognise and honour the many transformations of motherhood.

I just wish it had been published a few years ago- it would have been much better for me to have read it before I had my own children! I'm in matrescence now and this book is the first one who's helped me throughout this tough, amazing but overwhelming and socially neglected period of my life.

However, even if you've had a straightforward birth and received support for childcare, every woman (not just mothers) can relate to the stories in this book.There were some I wasn’t comfortable hearing, but the criticisms were nonetheless worthy of consideration. BUt moving beyond this close personal group, you are bombarded with sights and sounds and advices on mothers whose bodies bounced back, mothers who are climbing the corporate ladder AND mothering, mothers who are excelling at work and also helping their school going kids excel. View image in fullscreen Lucy Jones: ‘great on the impossible rules, and the lack of correct information meted out to pregnant women’. On one page, the phrase “This is how big it needs be” is repeated in a formation that reveals the size of a cervix in its centre. I wouldn’t have wanted to read this brutally honest book whilst pregnant (or attempting to be…); but 23 years later can say that so much resonated.

Jones sheds a fascinating light on the plethora of issues surrounding how childbirth and mothering fits (or fails to fit) into the current social and economic systems of the modern, western world. She reveals the dangerous consequences of our neglect of the maternal experience and interrogates the patriarchal and capitalist systems that have created the untenable situation mothers face today.In meticulous detail, Jones quests to bring us an impressive array of answers to the question of whether “nature connection” has a tangible effect on our minds, and how, and why? I'm going to be interviewing Lucy in November, and I'm looking forward to finding out how she wrote such an incredible book. If at times there is an uneasy tension in this book between the science, memoir, social commentary and flashes of creative writing, this is a testament to its ambition.

This book is the kind of book we must ensure every one of us reads; every single person sharing this earth side by side with our kin of every form. To have journeyed , and still be journeying, through this wild, raw, many coloured land of such unknowns, and to share that journey-the pain and the joy; the grief and love; the anxiety and the hope - in this way is nothing short of grace. I think had I read this whilst pregnant it would have made me feel rather fearful of early motherhood, whereas I think if you do have a fantastic support network around you, you are able to focus on the more joyous elements of mothering.Describing how it has enabled her to re-experience the past, she conjures “the scrape of armbands removed from an arm, the lemon-pine smell of hedgerow leaves and shrubs at adult-knee height, the dried-out film of a dead snail … the warm smell of swimming pools, the scent of my mother’s navy mohair cardigan”. It’s a transition period, like adolescence, that involves radical physical and mental changes and has lasting effects. Her fascinating exploration of the new science of our connection to the natural world emphasises the untold psychological cost of environmental degradation and climate catastrophe. There is a trap for any critic reviewing books about motherhood who is also a mother: the trap of “this is not how it was for me”.