Jones favors plain, accessible language, and she keeps her self-reflection in the realm of common-sense, approachable thinking without diving into psychological theory. This, together with her stated identity as an African American woman from a large family of sharecroppers, means her story will connect with an audience that understands the desire to appear strong while managing internal pain—readers who may not find appeal in expert-centered approaches that presume whiteness as a default. Jones’s honesty about the emotional conflicts that arose through her step parenting experience is particularly touching. Basic exercises at the end of the book offer less guidance than readers may need in order to use them effectively, but the frankness with which Jones shares her own struggles makes her ultimate recommendation of a count-your-blessings approach to life sound intentional.
Jones’s placement of blame on her own negative thinking about her endometriosis as a primary cause for her infertility is a hard sell in the context of self-care or causality, and she walks an awkward line in touting the power of positive thinking and faith while simultaneously categorizing that her thought-induced trauma as irreversible. Readers looking for hard data on the prevalence of infertility—or hearing about new technology—will miss this in Jones’s strictly personal approach, but those who appreciate authenticity will applaud her bravery in telling the story.
Takeaway: This true-life story will make readers facing infertility feel heard and understood.
Great for fans of: Anne-Marie Scully’s Motherhoodwinked: An Infertility Memoir, Sarah Kowalski’s Motherhood Reimagined.
Design and typography: A-
Marketing copy: A