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Pregnant Butch: Nine Long Months Spent in Drag
First pregnancy can be a fraught, uncomfortable experience for any woman, but for resolutely butch lesbian Teek Thomasson, it is exceptionally challenging.
Teek identifies as a masculine woman in a world bent on associating pregnancy with a cult of uber-femininity. Teek wonders, “Can butches even get pregnant?”
Of course, as she and her pragmatic femme girlfriend Vee discover, they can. But what happens when they do? Written and illustrated by A.K. Summers, and based on her own pregnancy, Pregnant Butch strives to depict this increasingly common, but still underrepresented experience of queer pregnancy with humor and complexity—from the question of whether suspenders count as legitimate maternity wear to the strains created by different views of pregnancy within a couple and finally to a culturally critical and compassionate interrogation of gender in pregnancy.
Offering smart, ambitious art, this graphic memoir is a must-read for would-be pregnant butches and anyone interested in the intersection of birth and gender, as well as a perfect queer baby shower gift and conversation starter for those who always assumed they “got” being pregnant.
Teek identifies as a masculine woman in a world bent on associating pregnancy with a cult of uber-femininity. Teek wonders, “Can butches even get pregnant?”
Of course, as she and her pragmatic femme girlfriend Vee discover, they can. But what happens when they do? Written and illustrated by A.K. Summers, and based on her own pregnancy, Pregnant Butch strives to depict this increasingly common, but still underrepresented experience of queer pregnancy with humor and complexity—from the question of whether suspenders count as legitimate maternity wear to the strains created by different views of pregnancy within a couple and finally to a culturally critical and compassionate interrogation of gender in pregnancy.
Offering smart, ambitious art, this graphic memoir is a must-read for would-be pregnant butches and anyone interested in the intersection of birth and gender, as well as a perfect queer baby shower gift and conversation starter for those who always assumed they “got” being pregnant.
128 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2014
30 people are currently reading
2780 people want to read
About the author
A.K. Summers
1 book26 followersA.K. Summers is the creator of the comic zine Negativa, and the animated shorts Topless Dickless Clueless and World Without Femmes. She is a graduate of Oberlin College and the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Summers lives with her partner and son in Providence, Rhode Island.
Pregnant Butch
is her first graphic novel.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 218 reviews
November 12, 2014
This book showed a lot of promise and I enjoyed the first half until I encountered A.K.'s transphobic rant halfway through. She has no idea what she's talking about and would have done a lot better to stick to her own experiences instead of trying to devalue and mock the experiences of "those young kids and their trans*/genderqueer stuff these days". She comes off like the gross "womyn born womyn only" tribes. Go hang out at Mich Fest and lay off writing books, A.K. I don't want that transphobic garbage in my house: in the donate box.
November 30, 2014
I loved this POV and the art is terrific. I didn't love the rad-fem transphobic weirdness in the middle. I won't ever really get that.
July 2, 2015
I was going to write a full-on review, but then I realized 1) this book is going to be overdue at the library if I try, and I'm tired of paying late fees for books I've actually finished reading, and 2) the title pretty much says it all. If you like the sound of a graphic memoir called Pregnant Butch: Nine Long Months Spent in Drag, you'll like this book.
I will say real quick that I loved the moment when she realizes that all those things you can do during labor – standing, squatting, showering – can only help you manage the pain so much, and only up to a certain point, because this kind of pain "is not supposed to improve." Next picture: a naked pregnant woman facing a huge tidal wave and screaming, "NO! I can't..."
That moment when you realize that it doesn't matter what you think you can or can't do because this is just plain happening: that's the moment when everything changes. That's probably an even bigger life-changer than having a kid.
...I kind of want to reread it now, but it's a little late for that.
Tiny update: Thank you, Goodreads, for running those "if you like this book, you might like these books" ads, because that's how I first found out about this book. I know I yell at you all the time for "recommending" books for me that I've already read and rated and reviewed here, and I'm probably going to scream if you keep showing me that ad for the first Harry Dresden book now that I'm in the middle of the 14th in the series (and yes, I'm reading them in order); but I do appreciate it when you tell me about books like this one that I probably wouldn't have heard of otherwise. Oh, and I'm glad my local library is hip and groovy enough to carry it.
I will say real quick that I loved the moment when she realizes that all those things you can do during labor – standing, squatting, showering – can only help you manage the pain so much, and only up to a certain point, because this kind of pain "is not supposed to improve." Next picture: a naked pregnant woman facing a huge tidal wave and screaming, "NO! I can't..."
That moment when you realize that it doesn't matter what you think you can or can't do because this is just plain happening: that's the moment when everything changes. That's probably an even bigger life-changer than having a kid.
...I kind of want to reread it now, but it's a little late for that.
Tiny update: Thank you, Goodreads, for running those "if you like this book, you might like these books" ads, because that's how I first found out about this book. I know I yell at you all the time for "recommending" books for me that I've already read and rated and reviewed here, and I'm probably going to scream if you keep showing me that ad for the first Harry Dresden book now that I'm in the middle of the 14th in the series (and yes, I'm reading them in order); but I do appreciate it when you tell me about books like this one that I probably wouldn't have heard of otherwise. Oh, and I'm glad my local library is hip and groovy enough to carry it.
January 3, 2016
Okay, as a straight white middle aged male, I just may not be in the target demographic for this book. Seriously, Summers seems to have, and reasonably, a GLBT audience in mind, and yet, is it interesting and useful for us to get to know what it might be for GLBT couples to raise children? I think so. This book depicts a time not so long ago, turn of this century, yet seems longer ago because of world changing GLBT events and dramatic attitude changes. Summers admits that it is now a kind of historical document, given some prejudices that existed then that were more pronounced then, yet still existing today, of course.
If that were not the case, I would say a title like Pregnant Butch: Nine Months Spent in Drag would be unsurprising, a yawner. But this is still unconventional enough an act (even for butch lesbians, of course, as Summers makes clear) to be of general interest. I live in Oak Park, IL, one of Out magazine's best places for GLBTQ folks to live in the world, so there may be plenty of potential readers here in the GLBTQ and the-rest-of-us in this "blue" village.
I have some personal interest. My sister and her wife had a baby, fourteen years ago, and it was a both marvelous and traumatizing event for my largely religiously conservative family relations, now largely healed, thank heavens. This book helped me recall those days, and call my sister to tell her about the book.
Artisically it is just okay, this memoir. It is too busy and dense in the layouts on each page, with often too many words for my taste in comics. But it is interesting, blunt, rowdy, "graphic" in content and visually. And often really funny, about first time childbirth for anyone, though some specific issues for pregnant dykes, of course. A fine and insightful and entertaining contribution to lgbtq literature.
If that were not the case, I would say a title like Pregnant Butch: Nine Months Spent in Drag would be unsurprising, a yawner. But this is still unconventional enough an act (even for butch lesbians, of course, as Summers makes clear) to be of general interest. I live in Oak Park, IL, one of Out magazine's best places for GLBTQ folks to live in the world, so there may be plenty of potential readers here in the GLBTQ and the-rest-of-us in this "blue" village.
I have some personal interest. My sister and her wife had a baby, fourteen years ago, and it was a both marvelous and traumatizing event for my largely religiously conservative family relations, now largely healed, thank heavens. This book helped me recall those days, and call my sister to tell her about the book.
Artisically it is just okay, this memoir. It is too busy and dense in the layouts on each page, with often too many words for my taste in comics. But it is interesting, blunt, rowdy, "graphic" in content and visually. And often really funny, about first time childbirth for anyone, though some specific issues for pregnant dykes, of course. A fine and insightful and entertaining contribution to lgbtq literature.
March 23, 2018
I was recommended this book because I was also a pregnant butch (caveat: as an enby, I use the term differently than the author). At first I enjoyed it--it aptly portrayed the relentless stress of engaging the cishet world as a pregnant queer person.
But then there came the transphobic panels, contained largely in the section titled "And More Tests," starting on page 53. She says that going through childbirth made her a less insecure butch, but I look at these panels and it's clear she needs to work on that. Here, she used art to make fun of and fundamentally misrepresent the experiences and reasoning of transmasculine and genderqueer people so close to her on the spectrum that it felt like a particularly low blow. I get that when you're questioning, you have to rule out identities for yourself, but you don't throw other people under the bus to do that.
Anyway, dear readers, given that there are so few narratives on this topic, you still might find this a useful memoir. But if you're going to read this, read with certain pages omitted.
But then there came the transphobic panels, contained largely in the section titled "And More Tests," starting on page 53. She says that going through childbirth made her a less insecure butch, but I look at these panels and it's clear she needs to work on that. Here, she used art to make fun of and fundamentally misrepresent the experiences and reasoning of transmasculine and genderqueer people so close to her on the spectrum that it felt like a particularly low blow. I get that when you're questioning, you have to rule out identities for yourself, but you don't throw other people under the bus to do that.
Anyway, dear readers, given that there are so few narratives on this topic, you still might find this a useful memoir. But if you're going to read this, read with certain pages omitted.
May 5, 2014
Touching and thinky. I wish I'd had this to read during my own pregnancy, back in the dark ages. Loved the art and humor.
Side Note: It still blows my mind that it costs so much (that it costs anything!) for pre-natal medical care and delivery in the U.S.
Side Note: It still blows my mind that it costs so much (that it costs anything!) for pre-natal medical care and delivery in the U.S.
February 21, 2017
I will say that I did enjoy this book, but hearing her snide remarks (or maybe I'm just being paranoid) about genderqueer and trans* folks put me off a little bit. It makes it hard for me to be sympathetic with "the woes of being butch and pregnant" when you can't even have the same empathy for your other queer trans* peers.
Other than that though, I found this book to be enjoyable, and even a bit informative.
Other than that though, I found this book to be enjoyable, and even a bit informative.
February 19, 2017
I haven't had children so skipped all those books about what to expect when you're expecting, but the title of this book is what hooked me. Nine long months spent in drag? Tell me more.
This graphic memoir recounts the authors' experiences as she navigated this heavily trodden path as a not just a queer woman, but a butch one at that. There is humor and aggravations galore, but it all turns out well in the end. The art is good and I especially enjoyed the nod to Tintin. This is a fun and informative look at her experience, and the intersection of gender and pregnancy.
This graphic memoir recounts the authors' experiences as she navigated this heavily trodden path as a not just a queer woman, but a butch one at that. There is humor and aggravations galore, but it all turns out well in the end. The art is good and I especially enjoyed the nod to Tintin. This is a fun and informative look at her experience, and the intersection of gender and pregnancy.
February 22, 2020
I really wanted to love this. And I did love a lot of it--I loved the old-school art, which was reminiscent of classic cartoons but had its own particular queer style, intricate and irreverent. But as other reviewers have pointed out, there's a blatantly transphobic comic in the middle of the book, where Summers basically implies that the existence of trans masculine people, trans men, and masculine genderqueer folks is a threat to her identity as a butch woman.
It's especially disappointing because her experience as a butch women going through pregnancy and childbirth is one we need stories about. It's a different experience from that of trans men or nonbinary people who get pregnant and have babies. There should be room in the world for all of these stories. The vastness of queer experience is beautiful and complicated. I wanted to be able to add this book to a growing list of queer memoir about pregnancy, birth and parenthood--a subject about which there are still not enough queer stories.
There's a lot of great stuff in here about what it's like to be a queer person expecting a baby, about experiencing pregnancy outside of the heterosexual, feminine norm, and about the ways that pregnancy impacts gender identity. If Summer had just stuck to that, to her own experience of pregnancy, this would have been close to a five star read for me. One of the book's strengths is Summer's portrayal of how her pregnancy forced her to confront her identity and gender in new ways. There's a lot of questioning and questing. Questioning and questing is fantastic, but it's possible to do so without erasing, invalidating and poking fun at other people's identities.
I am a cisgender queer and I am so goddamn sick of encountering causal transphobia in queer books. I can only imagine how painful it is for trans queer people reading books like this, seeking out experiences that might intersect with and reflect their own. We need to do better.
It's especially disappointing because her experience as a butch women going through pregnancy and childbirth is one we need stories about. It's a different experience from that of trans men or nonbinary people who get pregnant and have babies. There should be room in the world for all of these stories. The vastness of queer experience is beautiful and complicated. I wanted to be able to add this book to a growing list of queer memoir about pregnancy, birth and parenthood--a subject about which there are still not enough queer stories.
There's a lot of great stuff in here about what it's like to be a queer person expecting a baby, about experiencing pregnancy outside of the heterosexual, feminine norm, and about the ways that pregnancy impacts gender identity. If Summer had just stuck to that, to her own experience of pregnancy, this would have been close to a five star read for me. One of the book's strengths is Summer's portrayal of how her pregnancy forced her to confront her identity and gender in new ways. There's a lot of questioning and questing. Questioning and questing is fantastic, but it's possible to do so without erasing, invalidating and poking fun at other people's identities.
I am a cisgender queer and I am so goddamn sick of encountering causal transphobia in queer books. I can only imagine how painful it is for trans queer people reading books like this, seeking out experiences that might intersect with and reflect their own. We need to do better.
January 5, 2015
I got an advanced copy of Pregnant Butch to review for The Queer Book Club of Providence. We'll definitely add it to our list.
I was not a big fan of graphic novels at first. Since we've read a few in the Club, I'm slowly beginning to enjoy the form a little more and get over my snobbiness about "comics". The story line, drawing, and what I'd call the deeper meanings of this book are all worth exploring.
The plot line is pretty simple: butch dyke decides to bear a child, and does. What happens along the way is what happens to most women who have a child: they discover that who they thought they were, they aren't.
The extra annoyances and insults of being a butch in a straight world add another layer of complexity and indignity to the huge change that being pregnant is.
But, oddly, what I came away from the book feeling is that butch, femme, straight, single mother, plural partners--what binds all women together is this common experience of drastic change that comes along with our hormones. Menarche, sprouting breasts, pregnancy, menopause--oh, mama, we have to be quick on our feet to manage all this.
The drawing varies from very complete to sketchy, from (as the author calls it herself) strongly influenced by Tintin to more informal, contemporary, and (dare I say it?) even a little Bechtelian drawing. I found this endearing, as it echoes the constant changing that our hormonal life brings.
There are some holes in the plot line. It's never clear why Teek decides to get pregnant, except that she feels 'old'. There is no discussion between her partner Vee and herself, at least that we see, about which of them might want to be the biological mother and why. In fact, Vee seems to have very little to say about it all. When Teek accuses her of abandoning her to do the hard labor of birthing by herself, the reader wonders why, if there was no discussion about this beforehand, Teek would ever expect it to be otherwise.
I recommend this book. Not just to lesbians, but to anyone, childless and parents alike. The insights into the butch world, a world that may be vanishing, is worth it. The humor lightens what might otherwise be a rather gloomy, introverted book. The experience deepens Teek's understanding of her identity as a butch woman as well as the many changes we all undergo during our lives.
I was not a big fan of graphic novels at first. Since we've read a few in the Club, I'm slowly beginning to enjoy the form a little more and get over my snobbiness about "comics". The story line, drawing, and what I'd call the deeper meanings of this book are all worth exploring.
The plot line is pretty simple: butch dyke decides to bear a child, and does. What happens along the way is what happens to most women who have a child: they discover that who they thought they were, they aren't.
The extra annoyances and insults of being a butch in a straight world add another layer of complexity and indignity to the huge change that being pregnant is.
But, oddly, what I came away from the book feeling is that butch, femme, straight, single mother, plural partners--what binds all women together is this common experience of drastic change that comes along with our hormones. Menarche, sprouting breasts, pregnancy, menopause--oh, mama, we have to be quick on our feet to manage all this.
The drawing varies from very complete to sketchy, from (as the author calls it herself) strongly influenced by Tintin to more informal, contemporary, and (dare I say it?) even a little Bechtelian drawing. I found this endearing, as it echoes the constant changing that our hormonal life brings.
There are some holes in the plot line. It's never clear why Teek decides to get pregnant, except that she feels 'old'. There is no discussion between her partner Vee and herself, at least that we see, about which of them might want to be the biological mother and why. In fact, Vee seems to have very little to say about it all. When Teek accuses her of abandoning her to do the hard labor of birthing by herself, the reader wonders why, if there was no discussion about this beforehand, Teek would ever expect it to be otherwise.
I recommend this book. Not just to lesbians, but to anyone, childless and parents alike. The insights into the butch world, a world that may be vanishing, is worth it. The humor lightens what might otherwise be a rather gloomy, introverted book. The experience deepens Teek's understanding of her identity as a butch woman as well as the many changes we all undergo during our lives.
March 6, 2020
Instead of a memoir about the less common experience of being butch and pregnant, this was a memoir of being miserable and pregnant, while just so happening to be butch. Summers’s complaints rarely venture into the challenges of gender nonconformity and are generally things any pregnant person would complain about. I really feel for her partner - Summers insists on using her egg in the pregnancy because of her complicated feelings around her own adoption and then constantly dumps on her partner for “making” her do all the work while she just has a total lark getting her PhD.
This was hovering between 1 and 2*, but the unconnected transphobic interlude in the middle knocked it all the way down. I re-read the introduction after seeing other reviews say Summers had apologized and educated herself after the initial writing, but she claims it was “just a different time” and my eyes nearly rolled out of my head.
This was hovering between 1 and 2*, but the unconnected transphobic interlude in the middle knocked it all the way down. I re-read the introduction after seeing other reviews say Summers had apologized and educated herself after the initial writing, but she claims it was “just a different time” and my eyes nearly rolled out of my head.
April 26, 2014
Gender is hard.
Read
March 8, 2018For the most part, this is a cute and insightful graphic memoir about pregnancy and queer identity during the early 2000s. However, as other have mentioned, the four-page comic towards the middle of the book titled "And More Tests" presents an extremely insensitive take on trans and genderqueer issues. This episode provides no justification for its dismissive claims and makes it difficult to enjoy the rest of the book in an uncomplicated way.
March 27, 2019
Oh man I totally read this in December 2017 and had ZERO memory of it! I get mad at Oriana for wielding this as a sword against books because as much as is different between what we like and don't like one thing is for certain: we will forget the shit out of EVERYTHING, loved or despised.
Anyway yeah so when it came up we were gonna do it in book club I saw that I hadn't starred or reviewed it which is something I do sometimes if I am mad at something but don't feel like it would be OK to tell the Internet, so I was like oh I must have not liked this book.
Then I was reading reviews and a handful of them accuse it of transphobia so I was like maybe that is what happened? I thought it was problematic and left it a blank?
But no not at all I reread this and like it so much! I can see what people are reacting to in the part that gets accused of being transphobic but I don't think there's a real critique there, from how I'm reading it.
Anyway yeah this is a fun read and a cool artifact and I love love love so much the way she draws herself, it just makes me completely adore her.
Anyway yeah so when it came up we were gonna do it in book club I saw that I hadn't starred or reviewed it which is something I do sometimes if I am mad at something but don't feel like it would be OK to tell the Internet, so I was like oh I must have not liked this book.
Then I was reading reviews and a handful of them accuse it of transphobia so I was like maybe that is what happened? I thought it was problematic and left it a blank?
But no not at all I reread this and like it so much! I can see what people are reacting to in the part that gets accused of being transphobic but I don't think there's a real critique there, from how I'm reading it.
Anyway yeah this is a fun read and a cool artifact and I love love love so much the way she draws herself, it just makes me completely adore her.
August 14, 2016
A.K. Summers, a dyed-in-the-wool butch lesbian and her partner (same sex marriage wasn't legal at the time) decide to have a baby. This is an autobiographical comic book doing what autobiographical comic books do best. Summers has an engaging, earnest style--it reminds me somewhat of a cross between Justin Green and Spain Rodriguez--and brings a wealth of detail to bear in her quest to convey her experiences. She also likes drawing herself as Tintin. There are ups and downs, some of them familiar to all parents and parents-to-be, some of them more LGBTQ specific. If anything, the detail gets a bit overwhelming at times. I've never personally given birth, but I was exhausted after reading her account of her labor. Justin Hall, in the Foreword, says it best: "Through the alchemical magic of excellent cartooning, she has made her distinctive experience relatable for everyone, leaving us all feeling a little more pregnant and a little more butch." Definitely worth reading!
May 13, 2015
I really liked the way she posed this story as a place in time. It takes place in the early 2000s, and things have changed since then.
As an episodic depiction of butch pregnancy, it works well. It doesn't go into any detail about the decision to get pregnant in the first place, the relationship with her partner, or many other voyeuristic elements, but it does a good job of doing what it sets out to do (and adds to my decision not to procreate in the process).
I really appreciated page 16, where she lays out why butch women are often do-it-yourselfers.
I learned things here, and that may be the true point.
Looking forward to reading anything else Summers makes.
As an episodic depiction of butch pregnancy, it works well. It doesn't go into any detail about the decision to get pregnant in the first place, the relationship with her partner, or many other voyeuristic elements, but it does a good job of doing what it sets out to do (and adds to my decision not to procreate in the process).
I really appreciated page 16, where she lays out why butch women are often do-it-yourselfers.
I learned things here, and that may be the true point.
Looking forward to reading anything else Summers makes.
July 1, 2023
I liked this a lot. Would have gotten a five star but it does have a pretty transphobic section in the middle, which I would have been braced for if I'd read the other reviews, but was not. Even if I had been expecting it, it would still have reduced my enjoyment.
This was written ten years after the author was pregnant, and the intro seems to indicate that she might have changed her views at least somewhat, so even if she was having those thoughts at the time, she didn't need to leave it in or could at least have put a note that she was mistaken. (The comic has plenty of other notes about other things, so it wouldn't be out of place.)
This was written ten years after the author was pregnant, and the intro seems to indicate that she might have changed her views at least somewhat, so even if she was having those thoughts at the time, she didn't need to leave it in or could at least have put a note that she was mistaken. (The comic has plenty of other notes about other things, so it wouldn't be out of place.)
May 3, 2019
I was really excited to read this because it's an important perspective (most pregnancy books are heterocentric), but then I got to the "And More Tests" section where she goes onto an unfortunate tangent about transgender people. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt here, hope she came around on the topic, but ultimately it is what is - transphobic. Huge bummer.
January 26, 2021
Weird transphobic dip in the middle couched in being an "old curmudgeon butch" and especially sad because so much conversation about identity/gender perception ("butchness") and what amounts to some bit of dysphoria makes it seem this person has internalized transphobia - bummer all around! Some beautiful nuggets of insight into pregnancy otherwise.
April 30, 2019
This was definitely more interesting than Kid Gloves, which my book club also read last month in a harrowing pregnancy double-feature. (I say harrowing because I don't like babies and am squicked out by pregnancy and have troublingly un-feminine views on the pursuit of parenthood.) This was more interesting to me than that because it had the added dimension of identity and sexuality. I was shocked to learn, for example, that A.K. actually presented as more manly in the first part of her pregnancy — like some beer-bellied bruiser. It was also fascinating to see this as a bit of a time capsule of New York City and queer identity from time gone by. Beyond that, there was, as with any pregnancy memoir, a whole lot about how physically ruinous the whole ordeal is, the emotional labor this trauma inserts into a relationship, the post-birth glow once it's all finally over, blah blah blah. (Sorry, I said my views were troubling.)
Anyway, I posted this on my Knisley review too, but here's what we managed to choke down during club while looking at drawings of puking and crowning and other joys:
Anyway, I posted this on my Knisley review too, but here's what we managed to choke down during club while looking at drawings of puking and crowning and other joys:
August 11, 2017
Memoir graphic novels are my favorite of the genre, and I loved that this one addressed such a unique, underrepresented subject matter. Through it, Summers explores the shift or challenge to her identity that she experienced when she decided to get pregnant as a butch lesbian, and was confronted with the extreme "feminization" of all things pregnancy. She refused to wear traditional maternity clothes and found, surprisingly, that being "bigger" because of pregnancy actually allowed her in some instances to come off as burlier and more masculine, while at other times she felt somewhat trapped or at the mercy of her body.
This examines a lot of assumptions people have about butch lesbians and lesbian parenting in general -- that it will happen through adoption, that the more "femme" half of the couple will be the one to carry and birth the child, etc. But it also touches on some pretty universal experiences of pregnancy, too, and as I read it in the final weeks of my own pregnancy, I found a ton to relate to. I even ended up thinking about this book and paraphrasing Summers' insights on labor to my doula while I was in labor myself! (At one point, Summers realizes that the pain and intensity of labor isn't "supposed" to get better -- it just builds until your baby is finally in the world.)
The art style is somewhat uneven in places -- I like it best when it is straightforward rather than more cartoony or stylized. My main complaint about the book is that it was compiled from a series of comics that were originally published in an episodic manner, so at times it feels truncated and choppy. There were a lot of places where I wanted a certain issue to be more deeply explored, and instead the next page jumped to something else. This also made the timeline a little confusing in places. But overall, it was a worthwhile read, and a voice that is good to have out in the world.
This examines a lot of assumptions people have about butch lesbians and lesbian parenting in general -- that it will happen through adoption, that the more "femme" half of the couple will be the one to carry and birth the child, etc. But it also touches on some pretty universal experiences of pregnancy, too, and as I read it in the final weeks of my own pregnancy, I found a ton to relate to. I even ended up thinking about this book and paraphrasing Summers' insights on labor to my doula while I was in labor myself! (At one point, Summers realizes that the pain and intensity of labor isn't "supposed" to get better -- it just builds until your baby is finally in the world.)
The art style is somewhat uneven in places -- I like it best when it is straightforward rather than more cartoony or stylized. My main complaint about the book is that it was compiled from a series of comics that were originally published in an episodic manner, so at times it feels truncated and choppy. There were a lot of places where I wanted a certain issue to be more deeply explored, and instead the next page jumped to something else. This also made the timeline a little confusing in places. But overall, it was a worthwhile read, and a voice that is good to have out in the world.
April 24, 2019
I loved most of this book and I laughed a lot! But the transphobic section, which isn't necessary to the book at all and I'm surprised it wasn't edited out, really decreased my respect for the author. Couldn't she have at least talked to at least one transgender man or genderqueer person rather than dedicating pages to her misunderstanding?
April 25, 2014
I fucking loved this book, more than all the hetero memoirs of pregnancy I've ever read. I'm pretty far from butch but the queer pregnant experience is so very. This meant a lot to me.
The book is funny, well-paced and interesting. It's introspective but never irritating. I loved it.
The book is funny, well-paced and interesting. It's introspective but never irritating. I loved it.
April 2, 2014
My review is up on tcj.com as of 4/01/14:
http://www.tcj.com/reviews/pregnant-b...
http://www.tcj.com/reviews/pregnant-b...
January 20, 2016
I was torn between a 2 star and the final 1 star on rating this. The humor was so bad and the artwork too. This was such a struggle to finish, and yes it was another goodreads recommendation.
July 30, 2018
Having read both this book and its goodreads reviews, I worried that I couldn't like it as much as I do and that there are issues going on with this book that I as someone who isn't a member of the LGBTQ community can't understand. Here's where I landed:
When a memoir comes from a person who is not part of the majority, we expect it to speak for everyone in that group and get unreasonably mad at it when it doesn't.
A pregnant straight woman would not have the same expectations on her memoir. She could just write her story and let it be her story. This book, because it is the only memoir of its kind that I know about, is expected to be more than that. So we get frustrated with it because it just isn't.
Summers makes it clear from the beginning that she is writing her story, specific to her time, and about her experience. So yeah, it leaves out a lot of details I want to know the answer to like how the insemination decision was made, etc. and contains some thoughts on gender and diversity that are confusing. But guess what? That's her experience. That's what memoir does and that's why we need more of them and from all voices.
Overall, I enjoyed this book very much and she's right about what she says in her acknowledgements...there are definitely straight pregnant women who don't want to read the dreck offered to us on the topic. I'm one of them and this was a great read for 38 weeks.
When a memoir comes from a person who is not part of the majority, we expect it to speak for everyone in that group and get unreasonably mad at it when it doesn't.
A pregnant straight woman would not have the same expectations on her memoir. She could just write her story and let it be her story. This book, because it is the only memoir of its kind that I know about, is expected to be more than that. So we get frustrated with it because it just isn't.
Summers makes it clear from the beginning that she is writing her story, specific to her time, and about her experience. So yeah, it leaves out a lot of details I want to know the answer to like how the insemination decision was made, etc. and contains some thoughts on gender and diversity that are confusing. But guess what? That's her experience. That's what memoir does and that's why we need more of them and from all voices.
Overall, I enjoyed this book very much and she's right about what she says in her acknowledgements...there are definitely straight pregnant women who don't want to read the dreck offered to us on the topic. I'm one of them and this was a great read for 38 weeks.
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January 1, 2022I found this in the lending library at the birth center, and I really wish they’d had it during my first pregnancy when I was really struggling with the changes in my internal experience of my gender that whole thing occasioned. I really longed to know that I wasn’t the only one who felt pushed into a version of femininity that felt foreign and uncomfortable. I even thought about reaching out to a friend who ended up being the carrier of his two kids when his wife couldn’t, but was too shy to.
Even though the author’s experience doesn’t really have a lot in common with mine, I really appreciated this, and even though my gender weirdness isn’t as dysphoric in this pregnancy, it made me feel less alone. Also it took me back to dyke culture in the early 2000s, when my ideas about sex and gender really crystallized; societal understandings have moved on from that time and that’s great but it’s still the formative time for me personally. Is it really only 18 years ago? So much has changed. Gay marriage is so recent.
Even though the author’s experience doesn’t really have a lot in common with mine, I really appreciated this, and even though my gender weirdness isn’t as dysphoric in this pregnancy, it made me feel less alone. Also it took me back to dyke culture in the early 2000s, when my ideas about sex and gender really crystallized; societal understandings have moved on from that time and that’s great but it’s still the formative time for me personally. Is it really only 18 years ago? So much has changed. Gay marriage is so recent.
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May 30, 2021i loved this book!! first of all i love graphic memoirs, and i think more memoirs should be illustrated, second i’m obsessed with hearing about people’s queer parenthood journeys, and third, i really appreciate portrayals of pregnancy that don’t romanticize the experience. i absolutely recommend this book, i found out about it from a documentary called “a womb of their own” about butch and trans pregnancy, and i recommend that documentary also.
November 1, 2021
This book was FOR ME. I finally got it off the holds list three weeks after I gave birth, and it was a huge, hilarious relief after feeling so unseen and uncomfortable with the literature I had around pregnancy, birth, and motherhood. Also the cover doesn't do it justice, the art inside is fluid and gorgeous, funny and thoughtful.
(also I didn't know Summers went to Oberlin but uh, obv she went to Oberlin lol).
(also I didn't know Summers went to Oberlin but uh, obv she went to Oberlin lol).
September 30, 2023
I wasn’t sure how relatable this would be, since I’m more on the genderqueer side than consistently “butch,” but it ended up not mattering because it’s so funny. You never know with memoir—Summers made me laugh out loud repeatedly. As the foreword acknowledges, it’s a dated view into the queer experience, but one I enjoyed very much.
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