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The Mothers
Jesse and Ramon are a loving couple, but after years spent unsuccessfully trying to get pregnant, they turn to adoption, relieved to think that once they navigate the bureaucratic path to parenthood they will have a happy ending. But nothing has prepared them for the labyrinthine process -- for the many training sessions and approvals; for the constant advice from friends, strangers, and "experts"; for the birthmothers who contact them but don't ultimately choose them; or even, most shockingly, for the women who call claiming they've chosen Jesse and Ramon but who turn out never to have been pregnant in the first place.
351 pages, Library Binding
First published January 1, 2013
20 people are currently reading
1578 people want to read
About the author
Jennifer Gilmore
7 books155 followersJennifer Gilmore's second novel for teens, If Only, was published by Harper Teen in July 2018. She is also the author the YA novel, We Were Never Here, and the adult novels, The Mothers, which is currently being adapted for film, Something Red and Golden Country, a New York Times Notable Book, a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, the National Jewish Book Award.
Her work has appeared in magazines and journals including The Atlantic, Bomb, BookForum, the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, the New York Times Book Review, Real Simple, Salon, Tin House, Vogue and the Washington Post.
She has been a MacDowell Colony fellow and has taught writing and literature at Barnard College, Cornell University, Fordham University, Harvard University, the New School, New York University, and Princeton University.
Stop in and visit her facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennife...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 196 reviews
May 21, 2013
This book is fiction, which is good. It describes what people go through to get children through adoption. It's heart wrenching. For me, I never really thought about the emotional roller coaster that these poor people go through; nor did I realize all the paper work and effort. It's very sad. The main character, for me, was really hard to sympathize with. She really is NOT a nice person. I tried to tell myself that this person is under stress and very raw in emotions. Even with that mantra in my mind, I really did not like her…..at all. I did sympathize with the husband. I liked the husband. The woman is portrayed in a very unkind light. It's a great book to educate the masses of the horrors and emotional roller coaster that is adoption. It's too bad that Gilmore made the main character very unlikeable.
June 3, 2013
I've just finished The Mothers: A Novel, and I can't wait to move on to lighter fare for my next book. I bought this book because of a high recommendation on a blog. Unfortunately, I found myself immensely disliking Jesse, the narrator. Even though I personally know someone who has actually struggled harder than that to get a child, Jesse seemed to have swallowed an enitre bottle of bitter pills (there is a conversation where she sarcastically acknowledges to a friend that yes, she has been in a bad mood for a few years), but her obsessive self-pitying rage of "why me" gets tiring.
Although I appreciate the honesty she portrayed of the ugliness that can rear it's head in a marriage during a trying time, many of the conversations and the dialogue were flat at times. She presented her relationship with Ramon as a couple coexisting, and I felt him alienated from her because of her selfish insistence that all of it mattered more to her than it did to him, which we know is not the case at all. Her constant angry edginess made me less sympathetic to the true emotional horrors of being duped by possible birth mothers; when it happens repeatedly, I couldn't muster any empathy for her.
While the prose was lovely in parts, I found myself toward the end scanning sentences just to see if they ended up with a child. Then, when we should have been breathless and happy for her, she brushed us off with an unemotional, untidy end.
Although I appreciate the honesty she portrayed of the ugliness that can rear it's head in a marriage during a trying time, many of the conversations and the dialogue were flat at times. She presented her relationship with Ramon as a couple coexisting, and I felt him alienated from her because of her selfish insistence that all of it mattered more to her than it did to him, which we know is not the case at all. Her constant angry edginess made me less sympathetic to the true emotional horrors of being duped by possible birth mothers; when it happens repeatedly, I couldn't muster any empathy for her.
While the prose was lovely in parts, I found myself toward the end scanning sentences just to see if they ended up with a child. Then, when we should have been breathless and happy for her, she brushed us off with an unemotional, untidy end.
April 7, 2013
Firstly, and as usual, I received this book for free in a GoodReads giveaway. Despite this kind consideration from author and publisher, I will proceed to be honest about it below.
The summary is simple. Our protagonists are childless and infertile, nearing the landmark age of 40, and looking to adopt a child. This book takes the reader through the agonizing process they undertake from beginning to end as they seek to (+1) their family. If you are, or have ever been, involved with domestic adoption then it will come as no surprise that this book will be an automatic 5-star for you. It illuminates the process in a uniquely real and honest way.
Beyond the thematic, I found the author's rendering of the story wonderfully sincere. I haven't bothered to look it up but it has a very autobiographical feel to it. If you told me that these were her own experiences put to paper I'd have no difficulty believing it. Gilmore is an accomplished writer and she puts on display for us the good-bad-and-ugly of the adoption process. I would characterize myself as not only entertained by this novel but also educated, though perhaps slightly more cynical for the effort.
On the not-entirely-positive side of this novel, as a male of the species and not even remotely considering adoption, this one left me a bit flat. It's obviously because I'm NOT the target demographic but I can see clearly the appeal this would have to the right subset of the population. For the last half of the novel I could feel one of two endings coming and as the interactions grew darker I saw real potential for making a significant statement about society. The ending was not the one I would have chosen but I can see the value of it. To say more would invite "spoilage" so I will simply leave it at that.
In summary, a wonderfully executed novel but with a specific target audience. Gilmore is dripping with sincerity and, to use a stale metaphor, she leaves it all on the field and arrives exhaustedly at her destination with no punches pulled (to use an even more stale but still sports-related metaphor). To all those who are or would be mothers, I say to go forth and read. To the rest of you... maybe buy a copy as a gift. You have a mother, after all, don't you?
PS: It is my endeavor to provide reviews that are succinct, honest, balanced and above all help the potential reader to answer the simple question, "Do I want to read this or not?" Any feedback you can provide about how you feel I have accomplished those goals (or not) is immensely appreciated.
The summary is simple. Our protagonists are childless and infertile, nearing the landmark age of 40, and looking to adopt a child. This book takes the reader through the agonizing process they undertake from beginning to end as they seek to (+1) their family. If you are, or have ever been, involved with domestic adoption then it will come as no surprise that this book will be an automatic 5-star for you. It illuminates the process in a uniquely real and honest way.
Beyond the thematic, I found the author's rendering of the story wonderfully sincere. I haven't bothered to look it up but it has a very autobiographical feel to it. If you told me that these were her own experiences put to paper I'd have no difficulty believing it. Gilmore is an accomplished writer and she puts on display for us the good-bad-and-ugly of the adoption process. I would characterize myself as not only entertained by this novel but also educated, though perhaps slightly more cynical for the effort.
On the not-entirely-positive side of this novel, as a male of the species and not even remotely considering adoption, this one left me a bit flat. It's obviously because I'm NOT the target demographic but I can see clearly the appeal this would have to the right subset of the population. For the last half of the novel I could feel one of two endings coming and as the interactions grew darker I saw real potential for making a significant statement about society. The ending was not the one I would have chosen but I can see the value of it. To say more would invite "spoilage" so I will simply leave it at that.
In summary, a wonderfully executed novel but with a specific target audience. Gilmore is dripping with sincerity and, to use a stale metaphor, she leaves it all on the field and arrives exhaustedly at her destination with no punches pulled (to use an even more stale but still sports-related metaphor). To all those who are or would be mothers, I say to go forth and read. To the rest of you... maybe buy a copy as a gift. You have a mother, after all, don't you?
PS: It is my endeavor to provide reviews that are succinct, honest, balanced and above all help the potential reader to answer the simple question, "Do I want to read this or not?" Any feedback you can provide about how you feel I have accomplished those goals (or not) is immensely appreciated.
January 2, 2021
Wanted to like this book as it touches on an interesting subjects, adoption. But I couldn't stand the main character and it took out my interest of the book
July 29, 2013
This was one of the better pieces of fiction I’ve read which focus on infertility/adoption, and that may partly because I have finally removed myself a little bit by the virtue of time from the tunnel of darkness that that was, or it may be that it just was really well done, or it may be a little bit of both! Either way, at some points it feels boring and like the main character just can NOT make progress and move on, and her narrative feels wearying and whiney, but that is just how that feels like being in it; you are just so sick and tired of dealing with it, and yet no end is yet in sight. I used to tell my mom it felt like we were in a slow-moving tragedy all the time. Which was weird to me, personally, because, thus far in my life experience, normally tragedies are quick and adrenaline-filled, like an emergency, and then it passes, and your heart returns to normal and you breathe a sigh of relief. But this was like an emergency, for about 10 years of our life. Trying to sustain/move through/cope with/solve/ignore something so big for so long does lead to periods of boredom just with the situation and with your own darn self! Like you want to tell yourself to snap out of it, but that’s the very problem in and of itself: nothing you can do does help you get out of it. I liked how the author explored all facets of how this affected the main characters’ lives: with family, with friends, with themselves, money, health, etc. This is the only work of fiction I’ve found thus far, on this topic, that I have felt is worthy of recommending.
May 13, 2013
Perhaps you have to be in the right mindset to read this book: ready to adopt, or have children of your own, or so desperate to have them. I don't fall into any of those categories. But I think what frustrated me about this book was that the protagonist was so whiny. I realize how difficult her situation was: undergone and survived cancer, and desperately seeking motherhood and constantly seeing each and every one of her friends getting pregnant...but I didn't ever really feel for her except for want her to get a baby so that she and her husband would stop being so miserable all the time. I realize that makes me sound incredibly spineless, but I think what really made it difficult to thoroughly enjoy was how quickly it ended coupled with the intensity of the whole book itself.
June 15, 2013
What a fantastic book! "The Mothers" by Jennifer Gilmore captures the adoption process in all its angst and ugliness. I marked it as fiction/nonfiction because although it certainly is not a true story, it paints a more accurate picture of the waiting-to-adopt process than any of the nonfiction adoption books I've read. Most adoption books are hesitant to suggest there are problems with the process, or it is painful. If they do make those suggestions there is a decided "all will come up roses" follow up before you get too discouraged. They also rarely have a bad thing to say about birthmothers or the social workers who help you find them. Everyone is altruistic. Your agency will do a great job of screening birthmothers. Scams are a thing of the past. Etc. etc. etc. Not true.
Gilmore had the inside track writing this book. From the moment main characters Jesse and Ramon are arguing on their way to an adoption orientation and then quickly trying to patch it up so they can walk in as the gloriously happy couple they need to be in order to have agency approval, I was hooked. Their relationship is fraught with tension throughout the book, momentarily broken by moments of tenderness. That is what I've experienced in my own household throughout this process. So much rests on so little, and the only advocate you REALLY ever have is your spouse, who is as clueless and powerless as you. The tiniest comment or disagreement is enough to keep you from your children forever, and that is difficult for any marriage to navigate. I loved that they disagreed on the forms. No one tells you that this is going to happen. Adoption agencies act as if you are on the same page about everything, because - well - you're married. When you begin to check boxes of race, gender, background, health, etc. all sorts of unavoidable ugliness rise to the surface, all of which affect your chances of being parents. One of my favorite moments was when the social worker comes to do their homestudy. Jesse has baked banana bread because for one, their agency suggested she call herself a baker - even though she's not, they said it would help convey the motherly tenderness with which she'd raise her children. Knowing that the homestudy can roadblock them forever, she bakes banana bread, her secret "I AM motherly" weapon. When the social worker is not interested, she is devastated. When even her husband refuses a slice, she is outraged. How dare he betray her motherliness in front of the social worker! It is the small moments like this, that look like nothing from the outside, but are everything within, because in the adoption process a million tiny things determine if you are worthy to parent, a thousand other people - and you don't get to be one of them.
Throughout the novel, Jesse cannot escape the idea of "Mother" and often reflects on "The Mothers". They surround her - pushing strollers, rocking babies, blooming with pregnancy. Even Jesse's mother got to be one of The Mothers, though she left her children for long periods of time to a nanny, though she didn't read goodnight stories, she still got to be one of The Mothers.
Other moments I loved:
Jesse waiting to see her OBGYN, the waiting room full of pregnant women, "each rubbing her rounded belly as she sat, legs spread, on one of the oversized chairs, an array of parenting magazines - Parenting, American Baby, Family Fun, Fit Pregnancy - fanned out before her. Where the hell was American Infertility"(190)? (Been there, done that. Where's the first place they send you for infertility? To the OBGYN of course! It's all the same, right? Everyone having babies - one person not...)
Jesse, overhearing a couple receive the news that they are having a son, "'Oh,' says the wife, 'Are you crying, honey?' There was another brief pause. 'I know,' she said. 'I know. Aren't we just the luckiest people in the world?' This is the way in which we were lucky: our birthmother letter, our homestudy document, and our online profile were finally approved" (192).
Yes, you think it's just a matter of telling the world who you are so a birthmother can honestly choose a family for her child. Nope. There are edits. And edits. And waiting. And forms. And so many other opinions - are you attractive? is your letter homey? We recently changed social workers and received the critique "Your birthmother letter is just so different from others. I really think that's why you haven't been chosen." Really? Really?!? Because of a stupid letter? Because it's not the cookie cutter 3 sentences about this, 3 about that? Really?!
Jesse, hearing about the first birthmom interested in them "Allison said, from her experience, as long as she'd been doing this (from her high, seventeen-year-old-sounding voice, how long could that have been?) she could tell Carmen was serious - the real deal- and though it was quite early in her pregnancy, she would be contacting us soon. I intensified my relationship with my phone and did little else but sit and wait and watch it" (194).
This is what social workers will say about every single birthmom before they really have any info. It's in their training or something, "Whatever you do, don't let them know that we have no idea who they're talking to!" Everyone we've worked with has a clear-cut policy - you won't talk to anyone before we have done thorough intakes and medical checks. False. What birthmoms ever call agencies and say, "I knew you'd want to confirm I'm not lying about anything, so my medical reports are already on their way."
Jesse, suspicious of a birthmom and asking for a photo of her, "No pressure! The agency told us at that session. The birthmother, they told us, that most fragile bird, might fly away. We don't want them to change their minds, the agency said. We don't want to hurt them, Crystal told us. Which made us realize that the agency was there mostly to protect the birthmothers. For our protection, Ramon and I only had each other" (234).
This is the gut-wrenching truth. No matter how much you're paying, or who you're paying it to, domestic adoption is about the birthmom. Not about the birthdad. Not about the adoptive parents. Any protocol that's in place is for her protection. You are the risk-taker. You're the one that could lose your whole adoption fund in one poorly-checked match. You're the one who will be sitting with a carseat by your door, ready to pick up your son who was born yesterday, only to hear 48 hours later that grandma swooped in. You're the one who's background excludes you from parenthood. You're the one who's heart has to be put on pause while you phone date countless women who are emotionally unstable, unallowed to say anything that could put them off from choosing you.
Until, of course, you are the one bringing the baby home.
Gilmore had the inside track writing this book. From the moment main characters Jesse and Ramon are arguing on their way to an adoption orientation and then quickly trying to patch it up so they can walk in as the gloriously happy couple they need to be in order to have agency approval, I was hooked. Their relationship is fraught with tension throughout the book, momentarily broken by moments of tenderness. That is what I've experienced in my own household throughout this process. So much rests on so little, and the only advocate you REALLY ever have is your spouse, who is as clueless and powerless as you. The tiniest comment or disagreement is enough to keep you from your children forever, and that is difficult for any marriage to navigate. I loved that they disagreed on the forms. No one tells you that this is going to happen. Adoption agencies act as if you are on the same page about everything, because - well - you're married. When you begin to check boxes of race, gender, background, health, etc. all sorts of unavoidable ugliness rise to the surface, all of which affect your chances of being parents. One of my favorite moments was when the social worker comes to do their homestudy. Jesse has baked banana bread because for one, their agency suggested she call herself a baker - even though she's not, they said it would help convey the motherly tenderness with which she'd raise her children. Knowing that the homestudy can roadblock them forever, she bakes banana bread, her secret "I AM motherly" weapon. When the social worker is not interested, she is devastated. When even her husband refuses a slice, she is outraged. How dare he betray her motherliness in front of the social worker! It is the small moments like this, that look like nothing from the outside, but are everything within, because in the adoption process a million tiny things determine if you are worthy to parent, a thousand other people - and you don't get to be one of them.
Throughout the novel, Jesse cannot escape the idea of "Mother" and often reflects on "The Mothers". They surround her - pushing strollers, rocking babies, blooming with pregnancy. Even Jesse's mother got to be one of The Mothers, though she left her children for long periods of time to a nanny, though she didn't read goodnight stories, she still got to be one of The Mothers.
Other moments I loved:
Jesse waiting to see her OBGYN, the waiting room full of pregnant women, "each rubbing her rounded belly as she sat, legs spread, on one of the oversized chairs, an array of parenting magazines - Parenting, American Baby, Family Fun, Fit Pregnancy - fanned out before her. Where the hell was American Infertility"(190)? (Been there, done that. Where's the first place they send you for infertility? To the OBGYN of course! It's all the same, right? Everyone having babies - one person not...)
Jesse, overhearing a couple receive the news that they are having a son, "'Oh,' says the wife, 'Are you crying, honey?' There was another brief pause. 'I know,' she said. 'I know. Aren't we just the luckiest people in the world?' This is the way in which we were lucky: our birthmother letter, our homestudy document, and our online profile were finally approved" (192).
Yes, you think it's just a matter of telling the world who you are so a birthmother can honestly choose a family for her child. Nope. There are edits. And edits. And waiting. And forms. And so many other opinions - are you attractive? is your letter homey? We recently changed social workers and received the critique "Your birthmother letter is just so different from others. I really think that's why you haven't been chosen." Really? Really?!? Because of a stupid letter? Because it's not the cookie cutter 3 sentences about this, 3 about that? Really?!
Jesse, hearing about the first birthmom interested in them "Allison said, from her experience, as long as she'd been doing this (from her high, seventeen-year-old-sounding voice, how long could that have been?) she could tell Carmen was serious - the real deal- and though it was quite early in her pregnancy, she would be contacting us soon. I intensified my relationship with my phone and did little else but sit and wait and watch it" (194).
This is what social workers will say about every single birthmom before they really have any info. It's in their training or something, "Whatever you do, don't let them know that we have no idea who they're talking to!" Everyone we've worked with has a clear-cut policy - you won't talk to anyone before we have done thorough intakes and medical checks. False. What birthmoms ever call agencies and say, "I knew you'd want to confirm I'm not lying about anything, so my medical reports are already on their way."
Jesse, suspicious of a birthmom and asking for a photo of her, "No pressure! The agency told us at that session. The birthmother, they told us, that most fragile bird, might fly away. We don't want them to change their minds, the agency said. We don't want to hurt them, Crystal told us. Which made us realize that the agency was there mostly to protect the birthmothers. For our protection, Ramon and I only had each other" (234).
This is the gut-wrenching truth. No matter how much you're paying, or who you're paying it to, domestic adoption is about the birthmom. Not about the birthdad. Not about the adoptive parents. Any protocol that's in place is for her protection. You are the risk-taker. You're the one that could lose your whole adoption fund in one poorly-checked match. You're the one who will be sitting with a carseat by your door, ready to pick up your son who was born yesterday, only to hear 48 hours later that grandma swooped in. You're the one who's background excludes you from parenthood. You're the one who's heart has to be put on pause while you phone date countless women who are emotionally unstable, unallowed to say anything that could put them off from choosing you.
Until, of course, you are the one bringing the baby home.
June 1, 2014
I know I was supposed to like this book, and I really wanted toe empathize with the couple, but three things deterred me:
1) dogs...I am not a great dog-lover, so the whole dog metaphor (?) eluded me. "Harriet" and the other "rescued dogs" don't add anything to the book for me;
2) "Christmakah"---as soon as I see that word, I am actually somewhat offended, or at least consider that the author is trivializing Judaism (and then I wonder: what else is being trivialized?). In this book, Ramon has the strong ethnic (although not religious) identity, Jesse is, well, "nothing" really (except that her "Judaism" might prevent her from getting a baby to adopt). And maybe that's true, but I had a hard time getting past "Christmakah", and what it told me about her.
3) I couldn't believe how much Jesse didn't know about Ramon; that was hard to believe. She didn't know for example, that he'd been a track star in high school. Didn't they ever discuss this when they were taking their long bike rides? Didn't he ever mention that this was something important to him? Didn't she ever wonder what his interests had been before he'd met her? I found that part totally unbelievable....
And I could go on...I did finish the book, because it was easy to read, and it was already on my Kindle, and I was reading a more serious book at the same time. But I was disappointed.
1) dogs...I am not a great dog-lover, so the whole dog metaphor (?) eluded me. "Harriet" and the other "rescued dogs" don't add anything to the book for me;
2) "Christmakah"---as soon as I see that word, I am actually somewhat offended, or at least consider that the author is trivializing Judaism (and then I wonder: what else is being trivialized?). In this book, Ramon has the strong ethnic (although not religious) identity, Jesse is, well, "nothing" really (except that her "Judaism" might prevent her from getting a baby to adopt). And maybe that's true, but I had a hard time getting past "Christmakah", and what it told me about her.
3) I couldn't believe how much Jesse didn't know about Ramon; that was hard to believe. She didn't know for example, that he'd been a track star in high school. Didn't they ever discuss this when they were taking their long bike rides? Didn't he ever mention that this was something important to him? Didn't she ever wonder what his interests had been before he'd met her? I found that part totally unbelievable....
And I could go on...I did finish the book, because it was easy to read, and it was already on my Kindle, and I was reading a more serious book at the same time. But I was disappointed.
September 4, 2013
I've gotten a little behind in my reviews so as to read about the book first. The description "Unforgettable" struck me as a bit funny because I couldn't remember it well. Memory sort of refreshed I can now say that I did finish the book. As I recall it started well so I thought it was going to be a pleasure to read but then its tone shifted. However I persevered stubbornly. I could have read much more about the narrator's parents but was mostly turned off by Jessie's behavior. Ramon came across as almost saintly. I know that infertility and then the emotional roller coaster of adoption is a very moving subject, but I was glad this couple was fictional.
February 7, 2013
This emotionally gripping novel manages to be equally laugh-out-loud funny (truly) and heart-wrenching. Gilmore writes with a lush attention to detail and her prose takes on an almost crystalline quality while remaining utterly real. While the story is often painful, the author makes you believe that absolutely anything is possible at any moment. It's a thrilling combination.
June 7, 2013
Ick. Even though I am the target audience for this book- a woman wanting to become a mother- the main character was so awful that I couldn't stand her. I understood her plight, but she spent the entire book determined to be miserable. He husband was also awful and her mother-in-law was horrible.
March 13, 2014
Completely unsympathetic narrator, seriously clunky dialogue, and no real ending to speak of. There are several parts of this novel that read like freshman year creative writing seminars.
June 5, 2014
Yuck. Having gone through infertility and adoption, was hoping for more than cliches and whining.
July 23, 2025
4.5 stars. One of the better books I’ve read this year. I’m glad I didn’t look at the low starred reviews before reading. I really really liked this book. It’s about a woman and her husband who’ve tried everything to have a child with no luck. You plunge into more of the tail end of their trials as they’ve already been through years of infertility and are now trying adoption. I was a little bored in the middle but it picks back up when birthmothers begin calling! This is fiction. I wonder how many mother readers in her shoes could relate.
May 14, 2023
I always wondered about the inner workings of the mind while struggling with infertility and adoption. This satisfied my curiosity and was so sad and painful to read especially with the impersonators pretending to be pregnant. I hope the ending worked out for the couple in their journey to California.
September 17, 2024
A couple going through the crazy trials of adopting a child.
August 15, 2024
Unfortunately I relate very much to the main character. The book is definitely depressing but it helped me feel less alone in the infertility world.
August 14, 2013
There is a new word in the zeitgeist: Fertility. It appears to be a problem aligned to a socioeconomic level. Middle class women who put off baby making for careers, who rack up stress out in the cold, hard, competitive world of the workplace, then find it hard to conceive and/or carry a baby to term.
The story telling in Jennifer Gilmore's novel about mothers encompasses the ones with children, the pregnant ones, adoptive mothers looking for babies, and birth mothers looking for other mothers to take their babies. What grabbed me by the throat was the voice of Jesse.
Jesse's voice is a raw and naked scream of anger, anxiety, and longing. Because Jesse's mother was so busy flitting around the world working for social justice, Jesse and her sister were mostly raised by an African American nanny. Now approaching 40 and having endured years of fertility treatments and In Vitro Fertilization, she and her husband Ramon have resigned themselves to adoption. The process only gets more complex and nerve wracking as it sends them into new roller coasters of hopes raised and dashed.
Rarely have I read any dialogue of marital fighting that sounds so much like real life. Still more rare is the re-creation in fiction of female emotion as it really and truly feels. You see, we've been quelled, we've been told over and over to calm down. Jesse says to Ramon, "Do not tell me to calm down. A word of advice? Don't tell any woman to calm down. Ever."
Ramon is not a bad guy or a bad husband. He is in there pitching all the way. He has his own hurts on the father side of things. But he is not ever going to be a mother. Jesse is. She will not be denied.
I think The Mothers is not a universal story. It is about an array of particular mothers and their particular experiences. Most of all, it is Jesse's story. There could well be women who would hate this novel. I know for sure there are men who would tell Jesse not only to calm down but also to shut up already.
I read, impelled by this woman's anger, anxiety, and longing. I emerged at the end emotionally ravaged, not convinced that Jesse would be a good mother but certain that she would raise a daughter who had free emotions. We don't find out. The book ends.
May 29, 2013
Anyone who's adopted a child knows that the process is difficult, highly emotional and potentially bizarre. Jennifer Gilmore explores this terrain in her third novel, The Mothers, which seems to be very autobiographical. Jesse and Ramon, the protagonists, are a couple on the wrong side of 35 who are unable to conceive due to Jesse's past bout of cancer. They sign up with an adoption agency in Virginia (thinking they stand a better chance there), only to find themselves getting passed over or worse, getting emotionally scammed by non-pregnant women who think it's a trip to lead them on. At the same time, all their friends are showing off baby bumps or proudly bouncing perfect little offspring, and eventually even Jesse's drifter sister--who had never seemed to want children--becomes pregnant too. Gilmore does a good job of channeling Jesse's pain and confusion, and showing the strain that trying to adopt puts on a couple. Her dialogue is often very good, and some of the language is lovely, but there were also aspects that felt incomplete and/or underwritten. For example I never really sensed WHY Jesse wanted a child so much, other than that her hipster Brooklyn friends all had babies. And Gilmore's attempt to reach a wider audience, by exploring motherhood more generally, felt a bit tacked-on (though her depictions of her mother and mother-in-law, one suffocatingly nurturing and the other barely there, led to some funny scenes). In short, this book was readable and somewhat evocative for me, and probably it would be good reading matter for people whose friends or relatives are trying to adopt, who want to understand the process and be more sensitive. And of course, it is of interest to adoptive parents. But I can't really see it reaching a wider audience.
August 15, 2023
Jesse and Ramon failed at fertility treatments and were turned away from international adoption. So they turned to this newish thing called "open adoption" and ended up opening themselves up to all kinds of drama -- even trauma, feeling unsupported by the adoption facilitator(s) whom Jesse/Ramon thought should be doing a better job at protecting their fragile hearts.
"The Mothers" chronicles a torturous journey toward motherhood by a woman who is still figuring out what it means to be "the mother." Jesse seems to understand the role of the mother only in the negative, in what was lacking in her own mother and later in her mother-in-law. Throughout the book we find Jesse trying to figure out just what occupying the vaunted status of The Mother means, should mean.
My journey to parenthood was similar to fictional Jesse's, and I recognized myself and many of the emotions that come with infertility in some of the book's scenes. Gilmore covers baby lust, singular focus, magical thinking, marital wear-and-tear, and frustration about the inability for an otherwise capable woman to have any control over an outcome. The novel reads much like a memoir, and Gilmore is gutsy to show the inner thoughts and foibles of her main character/narrator.
Though painful for me to read at times (my path to and understanding of open adoption diverges from Jesse's), I am able to give this book a good recommendation.
Disclosure: I received a review copy for an upcoming feature on LavenderLuz.com
"The Mothers" chronicles a torturous journey toward motherhood by a woman who is still figuring out what it means to be "the mother." Jesse seems to understand the role of the mother only in the negative, in what was lacking in her own mother and later in her mother-in-law. Throughout the book we find Jesse trying to figure out just what occupying the vaunted status of The Mother means, should mean.
My journey to parenthood was similar to fictional Jesse's, and I recognized myself and many of the emotions that come with infertility in some of the book's scenes. Gilmore covers baby lust, singular focus, magical thinking, marital wear-and-tear, and frustration about the inability for an otherwise capable woman to have any control over an outcome. The novel reads much like a memoir, and Gilmore is gutsy to show the inner thoughts and foibles of her main character/narrator.
Though painful for me to read at times (my path to and understanding of open adoption diverges from Jesse's), I am able to give this book a good recommendation.
Disclosure: I received a review copy for an upcoming feature on LavenderLuz.com
May 18, 2013
4.5 stars. At times painful and hard to read, but overall a very poignant tale of aspiring parents Jesse and Ramon. Anyone who’s gone through fertility issues will find something to relate to here. This is a fascinating in-depth look into domestic adoption in particular, which is a different take than most novels dealing with infertility. The writing is stark and beautiful and my heart ached for this couple.
What’s interesting is Jesse and Ramon are difficult to like, at times extremely difficult. But, god, their unlikability is so believable. They’re rude to each other. They’re snappish and dreary and ill-tempered because OF COURSE THEY ARE. This nuance is nearly the most heartbreaking aspect of the story. The havoc their situation would wreck on an otherwise ordinary marriage is keenly felt. I felt no connection to them, but I sort of think that’s the point? They are very isolated by virtue of their inability to procreate when all their friends are.
Can we talk about Jesse’s parents? Oh how I loved her parents! But she is horrible to them and they say the wrong things even when totally saying the right things. Her dad - adorable. Brilliant. This book has to be autobiographical. There’s no way it cannot be.
Jennifer Gilmore is quickly becoming a favorite of mine in the literary fiction realm. Though I pretty much hated her book Something Red, Golden Country and this are both fantastic and affecting reads.
What’s interesting is Jesse and Ramon are difficult to like, at times extremely difficult. But, god, their unlikability is so believable. They’re rude to each other. They’re snappish and dreary and ill-tempered because OF COURSE THEY ARE. This nuance is nearly the most heartbreaking aspect of the story. The havoc their situation would wreck on an otherwise ordinary marriage is keenly felt. I felt no connection to them, but I sort of think that’s the point? They are very isolated by virtue of their inability to procreate when all their friends are.
Can we talk about Jesse’s parents? Oh how I loved her parents! But she is horrible to them and they say the wrong things even when totally saying the right things. Her dad - adorable. Brilliant. This book has to be autobiographical. There’s no way it cannot be.
Jennifer Gilmore is quickly becoming a favorite of mine in the literary fiction realm. Though I pretty much hated her book Something Red, Golden Country and this are both fantastic and affecting reads.
October 26, 2013
I picked this up from the new books cart when I found myself uncharacteristically with nothing to read. The beginning was extremely promising, and I could relate to the main character's past cancer diagnosis and fears for what it could mean for her future. The supporting characters are diverse and interesting: Jesse's Spanish-Italian husband; his non-English-speaking Italian mother, who dotes on him as if he is the crown prince; her globe-trotting and emotionally-distant younger sister; various prospective birth mothers who show up after Jesse and her husband decide to go the adoption route after failed fertility treatments.
While the insider's glimpse of the adoption process is enlightening (I knew it was torturous, but this couple endures emotional hell with no end in sight), the second half of the novel devolves into almost a month-by-month woe-is-me onslaught of melodrama. I liked that I learned more about what the adoption process is really like; several reviews I've read applaud the technical aspects of it as dead-on. But the narrator, Jesse, apparently has not learned much at all by the end. She is still full of melodrama right up to the next-to-last page.
While the insider's glimpse of the adoption process is enlightening (I knew it was torturous, but this couple endures emotional hell with no end in sight), the second half of the novel devolves into almost a month-by-month woe-is-me onslaught of melodrama. I liked that I learned more about what the adoption process is really like; several reviews I've read applaud the technical aspects of it as dead-on. But the narrator, Jesse, apparently has not learned much at all by the end. She is still full of melodrama right up to the next-to-last page.
January 29, 2013
3.5 stars. Literary fiction that skews slightly chick lit. Narrated in the first person by Jesse, an university professor, about the struggle she and her husband under go when trying to adopt a baby. Jesse had cancer as a young woman and is unable to carry a child to term (she had a brief pregnancy once); the couple decide to adopt a baby. They search for an adoption agency, write their couple profile, and are contacted by possible birth mothers. Throughout the process, Jesse thinks back to her own childhood with a working mother and the beginning of her relationship with her husband who is Italian/Spanish. This book will appeal to readers of contemporary literary fiction with a female focus. Readers of fluffier chick lit may like this as well but this is more literary.
March 1, 2014
Read this because of a very interesting interview heard on NPR's "Fresh Air." The narrator of the story, like the author in the interview, was hard to like or connect with. The narrator had virtually nothing positive to say about anything, except when she referenced the early days of her relationship with her husband, which is the most interesting subplot of the entire story. Too, as a career woman, one would expect the narrator to have more empathy for her mother and less bitterness about her own childhood, which sounds pretty idyllic. This story is interesting because so many of the episodes are based closely on real-life experiences of the author. Without that knowledge, this novel would probably be on the "Didn't Finish" list.
July 30, 2015
I really enjoyed parts of this book. Jesse's angst over wanting to be a mother is nicely rendered in stark (sometimes too stark) language, and the process of adoption she and husband Ramon go through is eye-opening. The problem of race is dealt with honestly, I thought, though I winced sometimes at cliche characters like the Catholic Italian mother who attempts to put hexes on her ex in the middle of the night. Ultimately, however, what kept me from liking this book is the ending, abrupt, unsatisfying, like so many endings lately. There is no time to reflect on what this journey has meant to these characters. Too much build-up, too little payoff.
November 26, 2012
3.5 stars but perhaps could be 4 depending on if this topic is your cup of tea. It wasn't mine but it did keep me reading to find out what happens. Since I don't have kids, never tried for kids, or even wanted kids, I can't really identify with the issues and angst this couple faced but anxious to hear what a friend thinks of it who has gone through two open adoptions. I understand the author went through this particular situation so it is most likely true to life.
November 20, 2013
As somebody experiencing fertility issues, I really wanted to like this book since I identify with the subject matter so well. Unfortunately, I just couldn't get into the characters; in fact, I had a really hard time liking them especially the husband. For me, it's important to find at least one of the main characters likable in order to care about the story and in this book, it just didn't happen.
January 1, 2014
As an adoptive mom, this book made me really angry. The author made the adoption journey seem horrible and scary. I am concerned that the book may cause people considering adoption to decide not to proceed. It didn't paint a realistic view of adoption
It was so hard to like the lady who wanted to adopt. I couldn't figure out why her husband put up with her.
Although parts of the story reflect some aspects of the adoption journey, it's not as horrible as this author portrays
It was so hard to like the lady who wanted to adopt. I couldn't figure out why her husband put up with her.
Although parts of the story reflect some aspects of the adoption journey, it's not as horrible as this author portrays
June 1, 2013
Bitter, grim, unlikeable - these are the words I'd use to describe Jesse. Unreal, poorly drawn, absent - these are the words I'd use to describe Ramon. Unless you want to read a book that fills you with the opposite of hope, I'd recommend not reading this one. And I spent two years miscarrying babies, and still had a hard time identifying with the main character.
August 14, 2013
While this book did capture the roller-coaster of waiting to be picked for adoption, I felt it went over the top in painting birthmothers (and birthfathers) in an extreme way (I worked in the field for 8 years and never encountered most of these situations.)
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