A beautiful, healing book for anyone who has ever struggled with pregnancy loss and recovery, and is looking for symbols of hope in the wider, wilder world.
When Jennifer Lane finally fell pregnant, she and her partner were overjoyed. But it wasn’t an easy pregnancy, and her journey towards motherhood was, in the end, a story of loss.
In the wake of her traumatic grief and physical recovery, Jennifer – a practising green witch – was left questioning everything about her beliefs. Trust your intuition, they say. But what if the worst thing that could happen does?
As she grieved, Jennifer turned to the mysteries of our animal natures, witchcraft and women’s fertility for understanding and comfort. This beautifully written account of finding solace in the natural world offers companionship through loss, and a sustaining path to joy and hope.
Jennifer Lane is an author and freelance writer. She has written for Vogue, The Week, Dazed, BBC, Wildlife Trusts, and RSPB to encourage people to get outdoors and explore nature in order to de-stress their lives.
Her book The Wheel, on her year exploring Pagan practices and reconnecting with nature, was published by September Publishing (2021). Since then, she has also written The Witch's Survival Guide (2023), The Black Air (2023) and The Second-Hand Boy (2024). In June 2018, she won a Northern Writers’ Award for her children’s fiction which looks at destigmatising mental health issues for a younger audience. She is represented by Charlotte Atyeo at Charlie Campbell Literary Agents.
Her next book, a work of adult non-fiction, will be published in September 2025.
I rarely give five stars, but Underwing earned every one of them.
Jennifer Lane's memoir about pregnancy loss at 24 weeks is deeply personal, but what resonated with me went far beyond the specifics of her story. I haven't experienced a stillbirth—my miscarriage was early, many years ago, when I was in my twenties. But grief is grief. And this book understands that.
What struck me most was her anger at the phrase "everything happens for a reason." I know that kind of positivity toxicity well. When I found my husband of 22 years dead in an apartment I'd bought for us just three months earlier—and six months after losing my elderly father—people said that to me too. All I felt was rage. Lane articulates exactly why that phrase is so damaging: it implies blame. That something you did caused this. That it's karmic. It's not. Things don't happen for a reason. Bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people. There's no rhyme. What does happen is that you grow and you learn—but that comes later, and it's yours, not something anyone gets to hand you as comfort.
Lane's honesty about the five stages of grief—and how they don't come in order—mirrored my own experience. Seven years after losing my husband, I think I'm finally arriving at acceptance. Reading this felt like sitting with someone who gets it.
I also loved the nature writing and the witchcraft elements. As a pagan myself, I completely resonated with her turn to the natural world, to intuition, to the mysteries of fertility and animal nature, as a way of finding solace when conventional answers failed.
This is a beautifully written book. I'd recommend it to anyone navigating grief—whether for a child, a partner, a parent, or a dear friend. Not because it offers easy answers, but because it offers companionship in the hard ones.
Beautifully written. The saddest of subjects, but you're not left feeling down. The most difficult of experiences, but it's easy and enjoyable to read. A wonderful book.