The story of a 61-year-old woman who served as the gestational carrier for her grandson.
At the beginning of the book, Connell’s struggles with her fertility don’t seem that unusual. In fact, she isn’t the most sympathetic narrator, as we see her dismiss Western medicine entirely after a single appointment with a gynecologist with a bad bedside manner. After spending two years trying acupuncture and herbal tea in an effort to restart her cycle “naturally,” the author finally consulted a medical professional and eventually became pregnant through in vitro fertilization. When she experienced the devastating loss of her twin boys at 22 weeks gestation, the author thanked the doctors for attempting a risky medical procedure with a small chance of success. After another pregnancy and miscarriage, Connell and her husband began to consider surrogacy. This would be an unremarkable point in the story except for what happened next: The author’s mother, recently retired, offered to act as the surrogate. They accepted, and their second IVF cycle was successful, with Connell’s mother delivering Finn, a healthy baby boy. A life coach by trade, the author tends to emphasize mystical experiences, which are certainly powerful and meaningful. However, though she has more reason than most to be thankful for the extraordinary advances in medical fertility treatments, she never seems to acknowledge that science had a lot more to do with her son’s birth than vision boards and trusting in the “Divine Mother.”
Noteworthy mainly due to the remarkable circumstances of Finn’s birth.