Pieces You'll Never Get Back: A Memoir of Unlikely Survival

by Samina Ali

A life-altering neurological disorder. A traumatic birth. An unlikely survival. Pieces You'll Never Get Back is a harrowing and redemptive memoir, in which a new mother must reconstruct her shattered mind, her relationship to her religious upbringing, and her life's purpose

At 29, as a young writer working on her first novel, Samina Ali nearly died giving birth to her son. Miraculously, she survived the unchecked eclampsia that had endangered her pregnancy, instead sustaining major brain injury and falling into a coma as she gave birth. When she woke up, only her deepest memories were intact. Her husband was a stranger to her, she didn’t remember having a baby, and any language other than her native Urdu was foreign. Medical consensus was she would never recover—much less write—again.  

Advised to think of her brain as a shattered puzzle, Ali began the long and difficult journey of piecing herself back learning to walk, speak, and accomplish basic human tasks alongside her newborn. She attempted to reckon with her past identity as a writer and a wife, and her new identity as a mother. Despite her miraculous survival, the disconnect between the old and the new self was devastating. It would be three years before she felt remotely normal, and seven before she was mended and could fully connect with her son. 

Ali pairs the story of her “death” and recovery with the parallel narrative of her relationship to her Islamic upbringing and her fluctuating connection to her faith, incorporating meditations on religious narratives of death, the afterlife, resurrection, and reincarnation. Both deeply personal and steeped in religious thought, Pieces You'll Never Get Back is a uniquely propulsive, searching, and ultimately, inspiring work of memoir.

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Biography, Medicine, Adult, Biography Memoir, Asian American

272 pages, Hardcover

First published March 4, 2025

About the author

Samina’s debut novel, Madras on Rainy Days, was the winner of France’s prestigious Prix Premier Roman Étranger Award and a finalist for both the PEN/Hemingway Award in Fiction and the California Book Reviewers Award. Poets & Writers Magazine named it a Top Debut of the Year. In 2013, she curated the acclaimed global exhibition Muslima: Muslim Women’s Art & Voices, showcasing work by Muslim women artists, activists, and thought leaders around the world. Her Tedx talk has over 8 million views. Her upcoming memoir, Pieces You’ll Never Get Back, is a harrowing story about her unlikely survival after the birth of her son.

Reviews

[Bruce Katz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ali's pregnancy and delivery were an absolute nightmare. As the time of delivery neared she'd been having headaches, vomiting, severe itching, abdominal pain, and more. The pain got even worse while she was in labor. When she complained about the agony she was experiencing the doctors ignored her. Just as they had ignored her husband when he mentioned that, based on research they had done about the ailments his wife had been experiencing, they were concerned that she might have preeclampsia. The doctor dismissively replied, "What do you do for work?" (Turns out what she was going through is called HELLP syndrome. It's a lethal pregnancy complication widely associated with preeclampsia.)

While Samina was on the delivery table her pain continued to worsen. She actually cried out, "Help me!" But the obstetrician, whom she had never seen before, said she was just being dramatic. And then she dramatically had a heart attack and a series of strokes. The baby -- a boy -- was delivered and she had a grand mal seizure. Her brain was cut off from oxygen for nearly half a minute. And she went into a coma that lasted 5 days. When she woke she didn't know where she was; could no longer speak English or any of the other languages she knew, only the Urdu she had grown up speaking; didn't know she had had a baby... or a husband; had lost all higher brain function. (Unsurprisingly, the hospital instructed the delivery team not to say anything.)

"Pieces" is a memoir of what happened to her and the long, arduous task of regaining what memory she could, what physical abilities she could, and put her life back together. Of trying to take care of a baby she didn't recognize, that in fact she had to be introduced to. Of smiling when the baby is put in her arms because everyone around her was smiling but she had no idea why. She was just glad that the weight of the baby was taken off her.

The title comes from what a neurologist told her -- that regaining memory, etc., was like trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle strewn across the floor with pieces missing. Her prognosis was not very good, and yet somehow she managed to create a new life for herself. (In an interview she said, “Everyone assumed that once I rewired my brain, I would be able to pick up my life from where it ended [but] that’s just not the way it works. I am not the same person I was.”)

"Pieces' tells an astonishing story. There's more to it than just a chronicle of what happened and how she worked her way... not quite "back," but to what she calls "a new version" of herself.

I'm not doing it justice at all.

[Thomas Cooney · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars rounded up.

“Pieces You'll Never Get Back” is a memoir that in unflinching detail tells the story of the author's debilitating first pregnancy that almost took her life and that of her child. This is not just a matter of complications one hears of (breech position, ruptured uterus, or an umbilical cord prolapse), but of brain swelling, organs shutting down etc.

I imagine this book is a slightly "easier" read for men than it is for women. Parts that read as terrifying to me, might step into harrowing territory for women. At the same time, however, Ali knows when to step away and give the reader a chance to catch his breath. The structure of the book (78 chapters in 260 pages) allows for Ali to step away from the drama at the forefront and discuss matters of religion, onomastics, and daily living.

It's difficult to go into detail without giving away too much, but what I found most engaging was the way Ali makes otherwise disparate matters come together. What does a name or a birthdate mean to a Muslim or Jew or a Hindu or a Catholic or an atheist? What cultural traits that from afar look so different, really have more in common than not? The reader learns interesting factoids about cultures that he never would have thought would be contained within these pages.

In the end, however, it's the vulnerability that most thoroughly won me over. Throughout the book it becomes clear that unkind (or seemingly unkind) things said to Ali—whether it be from a writing professor, or kids in Hyderabad, or bullies in Minnesota, or from her own parents—have always registered; most of the time, too loudly. And the reader knows that in order for Ali to pull through her most pressing ordeal, it's her own voice that she needs to hear. But how to do that when that voice would come from a brain broken by procreation? The engaged reader will be rooting Ali on even when it seems she'd be unwilling to listen.

There are so many other rich dichotomies throughout the book that I won't spoil lest it steals the thunder from the magic.

[CatReader · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pregnancy and childbirth are statistically among the dangerous experiences for otherwise healthy young women to undergo, though thankfully maternal mortality today is well below what it was in prior eras. In her 2025 memoir Pieces You'll Never Get Back, writer Samina Ali writes about her first pregnancy at age 29 in 1999, when her preeclampsia went undiagnosed and she transitioned to eclampsia (as evidenced by a grand mal seizure) as well as HELLP syndrome (Hemolysis, Elevated Liver enzymes, Low Platelets) shortly after giving birth. Thankfully, both she and her baby boy survived, though both required ICU stays; in particular, Ali suffered multiorgan system damage and traumatic brain injuries that took years to rehabilitate.

People who've experienced a traumatic experience of this magnitude generally process and interpret it through the lens of their life experiences and sociocultural backgrounds. For Ali, a Muslim of Indian descent who had grown up between Hyderabad, India, and the United States where her family had immigrated, and who had spent her adulthood leaving an arranged marriage and rebuilding her life around a partner and a career (writing) she had chosen, her processing lenses are primarily religious, cultural, and literary intellectualization.

Though this medical event delayed Ali's literary goals by several years, it appears she was able to publish her novel, 2004's Madras on Rainy Days, and have another healthy child (though with a different partner, as her health struggles contributed to the end of her second marriage). It took Ali 26 years to publish this memoir, and I was curious about how her life has evolved in that time and how she now looks back on this formative event with the advantages of time and maturation, though disappointingly this memoir doesn't delve much into either of those facets. I did note the pacing of this memoir is rather slow, with many flashbacks interspersed throughout that interrupted the narrative flow. I also noted a marked tendency toward perseveration and rumination which made the reading experience repetitive.

Further reading: medical memoirs by literary types
Raising a Rare Girl: A Memoir by Heather Lanier
The Undying by Anne Boyer
I Cannot Control Everything Forever: A Memoir of Motherhood, Science, and Art by Emily Bloom

My statistics:
Book 322 for 2025
Book 2248 cumulatively

[Cari · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was so good. I'm sad that the author went through so much medically--it was a horrible trauma that will always affect her. Yet she describes it so eloquently, and it's amazing that she could put her brain back together after what happened to her. I'm so glad that she made it through to give us this book. I also learned a lot about her Muslim faith and how it inspired her and her family too. I can't recommend it enough.

[Rummanah (Books in the Spotlight) · Rating 4 out of 5]

A truly remarkable story of resilience, spirituality, motherhood, and hope. It’s another alarming reminder of how women’s health (particularly women of color) is not taken seriously.

[Margo · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author did an amazing job of describing her experiences after a difficult childbirth and how she recreated a new life for herself.

So many books of childbirth disasters blame medicine, the doctors, etc. This is not that book. (Although the medical community missed many opportunities to change the outcome.)

Instead, this is how the author learns to deal with medical complications from childbirth. How to deal with a newborn that she barely remembers. She navigates how to bond with her child who has been cared for by her mother. She is also frank about the impact that catastrophic medical conditions have on a marriage.

[Carly Ceccarelli · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read a ton of memoir. I love reading people’s stories, and it’s always an honor to be let into someone else’s world. This book, however, will stay with me forever. I am confident that this will be HUGE when it comes out. Absolutely stunning.

[Jamie Arledge · Rating 3 out of 5]

I felt for the hard journey that this woman went on. The brain damage done by preeclampsia was significant. The book felt just as disjointed. I struggled to follow the fragments of her memories.

[Jeanne · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this very powerful memoir. There were many times I found it impossible to believe that the author had survived and overcome her medical setbacks.

[Marit · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m surprised the author could get 250 pages of writing from 5 days in the hospital. A lot of faith woven in.

[Ailey | Bisexual Bookshelf · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC! This book will be released in the US on March 4th, 2025 from Catapult.

Some books demand to be read slowly, their sentences savored like incantations. Pieces You’ll Never Get Back: A Memoir of Unlikely Survival by Samina Ali is one such book—lyrical, haunting, and deeply introspective. In the wake of a harrowing medical crisis, Ali stitches together a self that was shattered, using memory, faith, and writing as both tools and battlegrounds. Her story is not just one of survival but of reclamation, of choosing how to piece herself back together after nearly being lost forever.

Ali’s memoir begins with the traumatic birth of her son, a moment that should have been sacred but instead becomes a site of violence and neglect at the hands of white doctors who refuse to see her, speak to her, or listen to her warnings. Their failure to recognize a rare form of preeclampsia, one that originated in her liver rather than presenting as typical hypertension, leads to HELLP syndrome—an often-fatal condition that leaves her brain swollen, scattered, and broken by strokes. When she awakens from a coma, she has only the most rudimentary functions, speaking in her first language, Urdu, but unable to grasp the reality of her own motherhood. The journey that follows is one of painful reconstruction, of filling in the gaps left by memory loss and medical trauma, of navigating an American medical system that failed her while also reckoning with the patriarchal traditions of her Muslim upbringing.

What makes Pieces You’ll Never Get Back so compelling is Ali’s refusal to accept easy narratives. She was dubbed the “Miracle Girl” by her doctors, yet she questions what kind of mercy strips a mother of her ability to recognize her own child. She reexamines Islamic theology, looking at conceptions of the afterlife, the sacred origins of the Qur’an, and the faith’s reverence for the written word—all through the lens of a woman whose mind has betrayed her but whose survival depended on language. As she struggles with aphasia and cognitive impairment, writing becomes the very thing that allows her to heal.

Ali’s prose is as fractured and luminous as the memories she tries to reconstruct. Her writing is steeped in sensory detail, moving with rhythmic intensity between the past and the present, between what is known and what is lost. The memoir’s strongest moments lie in its exploration of identity—not just the binaries of American and Indian, Muslim and secular, pre-stroke and post-stroke—but the fluid, shifting reality of selfhood when one’s own body becomes unfamiliar.

If there is any shortcoming in Pieces You’ll Never Get Back, it’s that the ending feels slightly rushed. After so much meticulous excavation of memory, the final chapters don’t linger long enough in the aftermath of Ali’s recovery. And yet, perhaps that is fitting—survival is not a neat conclusion, but an ongoing act.

This is a book that does not flinch from pain, nor does it romanticize resilience. Instead, it honors the messiness of recovery, the grief of what is lost, and the grace found in rebuilding. Ali’s memoir is a testament to the power of writing, of reclaiming one’s narrative when the world tries to silence it. An essential read for anyone who has ever had to fight to be heard, to be seen, to survive.

📖 Recommended For: Readers drawn to lyrical and introspective memoirs, narratives of medical trauma and recovery, and explorations of cultural identity; those interested in the intersections of faith, memory, and storytelling.

🔑 Key Themes: Trauma and Healing, Memory and Identity, Cultural Heritage and Faith, The Power of Writing as Survival.

Content / Trigger Warnings: Medical Content (severe), Medical Trauma (severe), Racism (minor), Misogyny (minor), Death of a Parent (minor), Cancer (minor).

[Kirin · Rating 2 out of 5]

Memoirs are tricky to review because they are about a person's own life and their perceptions of their experience, so ultimately who am I to have an opinion on if I was adequately entertained? Usually I cover writing quality and Islamic representation and leave it at that, and to that regard, this book is well written. It held my attention, and undoubtedly the medical horrors and ordeals she faced and overcame, that could truly happy to anyone, are worthy of being shared. The parts that rubbed me the wrong way more often than not, was how the Islam was woven in. It wasn't a light of hope in her troubled times, or a balm when there was only loss, it seems like she wanted to opine on Islam and its shortcomings from a place of someone who practices, and wants to set the record straight, but gives no background for her interpretations or authority on the subjects she is speaking upon. The waxing and waning of faith didn't bother me so much over the 263 pages, but rather her attitude toward hadith and sunnah. and conflating cultural practices with Islamic doctrine. I can't even begin to imagine what the average non Muslim readers' takeaway would be regarding trials and how Islam guides us to approach them. This book would have people thinking some very cultural things are normative in faith, that even as a Desi, had me questioning how it all relates. Why are people running up and down "holy" mountains in India with Qurans, and praying at shrines, why are imams naming kids based on the alignment of the stars, why is blood being put on her feet and eggs near her head to be later tossed in alleyways, why are duas being called wishes, and since when does hijab equal erasure. There is no padding of her statements, that "I felt Islam's view on this was hard or easy," she states everything as factual, yet there are no sources in the text or backmatter that give credence to her statements. I am glad she survived, I'm glad she was able to reconnect with her self, the cover is beautiful, but the religious and cultural threads make me unable to encourage others to read the book. And what is her legal name? I'm genuinely curious to know.

[◒ rö ◒ · Rating 3 out of 5]

let me begin first with a disclaimer: when I read memoirs and leave reviews, I am in no way “rating” the author’s life or experiences. rather, I look first at the writing—tone and voice, flow, rhythm and cadence, style—and then move to consider what motifs, themes or overall lessons/messages I am left with once I finish such a book.

with that being said, Samina Ali details the harrowing memories (and lack thereof) of her time when giving birth to her first born, and the months following, her brain trauma and multi organ failure resulting from the intentional neglect and mis-care of two (white) doctors who had zero business ignoring a brown woman’s pain. she carefully weaves in faith and spirituality throughout her writing, which is honest and frankly, fragmented — just as her memories and thoughts were in the aftermath. this book explores loss of self and healing despite recurring setbacks.

I struggled with parts of this book as Samina’s version of Islam is far, far, far from mine and any mainstream depiction of the faith. her push and pull relationship with the religion is very realistic though, especially with how easily one can lose hope in the face of distress and constant hardship. however, faith and equally be a beacon of light in such circumstances, but her experiences are hers to share and I wish only that the faith was able to remain a steady lighthouse for her. what is nice is she was able to return to her prayer mat, illustrating a return to faith when restoring her sense of self. still, I found a lot of religious references to be cultural tradition not rooted in Islamic teaching whatsoever. while she calls out certain things for being not religious but rather cultural, she doesn’t do it across the board, so it comes off as pick and choose-y which I don’t agree with.

[Ms. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I enjoyed this well written book & I also related a lot to her neurological issues and experiences, having survived at least 3 bouts of COVID in the first wave, leading to me experiencing memory loss, aphasia, anxiety, depression and trauma from the exposures at my work, as well as being gaslit and not able to communicate, write or read for a few months after “recovering.” But for us with Long COVID, it’s not a recovery really. It’s been a death and rebirth or more a series of them, as we regain some functionality but suffered severe loss from memories and lack of time with our loved ones. Thankfully I wasn’t in a coma or intubated but losing the ability to read, write which were my primary reasons to live all my life— I related to her experiences with this. Like me, she tried to write about her life and read to her son from board books, and that slowly helped her to create new neural connections and heal in a way. Never to be the same again but miraculous to even get this level of healing and functionality! I’m glad we both achieved this and that this book exists to share this with the world. As well as to educate men and women about the prevalence and danger of preeclampsia! Which I wasn’t aware of in this detail, prior to the book, despite having birthed a child already. Hope to read more from this amazing writer!

[Valorie Hallinan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an outstanding memoir. Stellar writing.

What absolutely baffles me is why, after childbirth brought the author to the brink of death and left her profoundly weakened by severe brain damage and swelling, she was not given any sort of physical and cognitive therapeutic rehabilitation, but simply sent home to recover on her own, with the help of her family. (This is to say nothing of her ob/gyn and the resident who attended her birth, who seemed to suffer no consequences for their egregious negligence and were fortunate not to be sued.) I may sound superficial here, given that there are so many good things to say about this memoir, but the medical circumstances don't make sense to me.

She healed by forcing herself to write a novel, which seemed to help her brain recover through neuroplasticity.

But I still find it hard to believe she was not given, and no one asked for, rehabilitation and various kinds of therapy. I just don't get it. This is Stanford - UCSF Hospital (its name at the time). The specific names of neurologists and other physicians are mentioned in the acknowledgments, but I don't understand why she and family were left completely on their own as far as recovery. The author does not address this, it seems as though this was perfectly normal in the eyes of the family and the neuro team. Perhaps I overlooked something.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Five stars for me. It's not just a medical memoir, but a supremely well-crafted story that I found easy to devour during a 6-hour flight. (Thankfully a red eye flight, so no one could see me crying.) Told in simple language and not medical jargon, this book got me with its deep grit and the narrator's incredible faith — in her family, in her religion, in motherhood, in her craft as a writer, and ultimately in herself. It's paced really well, making it easy to read even while still capturing the repetition and reality of recovery from major brain injuries.

For more...

As the narrator is failed by some of the supposedly best doctors in the word and likely overlooked in repeated acts of blatant racism and sexism, we follow her through undiagnosed preeclampsia, a traumatic birth, her coma, and then recovery with a newborn, her spouse, and her extended family. There are understandably some gaps in this story or shorter chapters that sometimes felt a bit unresolved, but to me this served the purpose of following the narrator and her reflections as she pieced herself together after extensive brain damage.

[Melissa Daley · Rating 5 out of 5]

I couldn’t put this book down. From the first few pages, I knew it was going to break my heart—and it did—but I also couldn’t look away. The writing is beautiful, and not in a flowery, overdone way. It’s sharp. Honest. Every word carried weight, and every silence between them said just as much.

What gutted me the most is how the story captures the horror that so many women of color face in this country—especially during childbirth. The way their pain is ignored, minimized, or dismissed by the very systems that are supposed to protect them. That part didn’t feel like fiction. It felt like truth we’ve gotten way too comfortable ignoring.

This isn’t just a story about loss. It’s a story about the pieces ripped away from people who deserved better. It forces you to sit with the injustice, and it doesn’t offer you a neat resolution—and that’s the point. You’re not supposed to walk away from this feeling comfortable.

If you’re looking for something light, this isn’t it. But if you’re ready to feel something real and confront the cost of silence and neglect, read this book. And when you’re done, sit with it. Let it haunt you a little. It should.

[Pamela Jo Mason · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful! Evocative! Poignant! Inspiring! I couldn’t even imagine writing a novel when the memories aren’t really there, but the memories as they were told to you, but Samina Ali does it in a remarkably unforgettable way. When eclampsia leads to a stroke and debilitating effects, Samina must try to learn how to deal with her new broken(?) self. This story is so emotional; I couldn’t put it down. Samina gives the medical details in non-technical and completely understandable terms, which in itself is a tough thing to do (I think). The chapters in her book go back and forth from past to present, but are so uniquely linked that they don’t have the misconnections that some novels tend to have in that same presentation. I can’t say enough how beautifully written this book is; I read it three times and I cried with every reread sentence that took my breath away, made me angry, and comforted me in a way that only firsthand telling can do. I would highly recommend this book and I know it is going to stay close to me for a long time. ❤️

Disclaimer - I received this book as a Goodreads giveaway.

[Kay · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars. Listened to the audiobook. Narration was good. This book lacked so many critical details to the story that it felt like a waste to read it sadly. I understand the author wasn’t able to recall many specifics due to her memory lapse but then why even write a book? She relied on others to provide her with information however she still didn’t include many particulars and as a result, the reader isn’t able to get a good feeling of her recovery process or day to day struggles. She didn’t have any therapy. With all her deficits, how was she able to manage her rehabilitation? At the end of the book, she stated matter of fact that her and Scott divorce because they were “no longer bonded by love, but by trauma and how much he had to take care of her”. Well, we never heard about ANY of that in the book. Also their decision not to sue the Drs was unbelievable. It was very clear they were “willfully negligent” and this wasn’t simply an unavoidable error.

[Jennifer Furber · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wasn’t sure if I should give this three or four stars. I am so interested in reading books about brain injury as I have a TBI. It’s unimaginable what happened to her - being ignored by her OB, the scenes of her coma, & her unexpected recovery.
I wanted a bit deeper into her struggles. There were a few moments mentioned when her son’s safety was jeopardized but the prose just flashed it ended the details too quickly. I wanted more detail into what writing in the beginning was like - inserted examples. She also doesn’t really emphasize the care she needed afterwards. And the end? Oh my god it’s like she ran out of page space. All of a sudden she’s talking separation from her husband Scott and she is married again and having another baby. The memoir seemed rushed in the final 1/5 of the pages.

[Mike Holbert · Rating 2 out of 5]

I struggled between a one-star and two-star review. The book felt like it was three different projects that were cobbled together to get to a publishable length. With the exception of the final ten percent of the book, it lacked cohesion and felt choppy without any flow to the structure. If I looked at a chapter in isolation, the writing was fine. But, taken together, felt disjointed. In addition, there were many issues with the depiction of the medical aspects of the story. I understand that the author is not a medical professional, as determine by her many references to her Masters level work in writing, but the book would have benefitted from a medical review.

In short, I picked this because it was part of the Heritage badge in Goodreads. I would suggest others to look elsewhere on the list.

[Maggie · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Death is coy. It seduces you, whispers its name into your ear, the core of your being. The process doesn’t frighten you. It captivates you. You don’t shrink away from death. You embrace it.”


I cried twice while reading this book — once when the author dies, and again when she regains her memories.

Pieces you’ll never get back was an incredible read — Samina Ali’s prose kept me on the edge of my seat, through the horror of waking up in the hospital, the struggle and grit of recovery, the dreamy memories of the Old City, and the catharsis of a completed novel.

I learned so much from this book. I learned about religion, spirituality, and, perhaps most importantly, about trusting your intuition and advocating for your own heath and the health of the people around you ❤️

[Pam Mooney · Rating 5 out of 5]

Inspiring, sad, and it makes me a lot angry. I love this author and how she worked to put her life back together. It is a gift to readers to know that even at the best of health facilities a person can be ignored with real consequences so they can protect themselves. I cannot believe this happened! I learned a lot about prejudice and the Muslim culture as well as how family support can bring a person the strength to recover from tragedy. A good read.

[Jenn Cromley · Rating 4 out of 5]

I received this book as part of a Goodreads Giveaway and was so excited to read - it jumped straight to the top of my list. It was an “easy” read in terms of the prose, order, and flow but tackled some tough content, making the memoir / author genuine and open to vulnerability about things that happened. I also really enjoyed learning some of the medical and religious content woven in (but well supporting the point of the book). Definitely recommend.

[Deb Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

An amazing story of recovery, grit, and the literal healing power of writing. Even though I have never had a brain injury, I have had medical issues and trauma and have had to pull together the story of my life. Her memoir offers inspiration, courage, and hope. As Samina says: "The decision to heal is not one moment. I made the decision over and over and over again." Which is what we all have to do when faced with hardships, big and small.

[Kathleen Beall · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent read for…anyone…but especially those who come in contact with any part of the birth world. As a therapist who works with pregnant women and birth trauma, I hear numerous stories about women’s voices being completely ignored, especially those of black and brown women. I would love all OBs to read this book! Especially before they diminish another woman’s concerns as being a “normal” part of pregnancy.

[Sriya Prathuri · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a remarkable book by a truly remarkable person. I love how Ali describes the iterative process of writing and its role in helping her recover. I admire how Ali knows what matters to her, and holds onto that throughout her experiences. Also, the way in which Ali describes Hyderabad, especially the Old City, deeply resonated with me.

[Sade Muessel · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5
A very powerful story. I liked the cultural and religious history sprinkled throughout the memoir, but wanted more of Samina’s recovery instead of background information in the latter part of the book.
I’m amazed at Samina’s recovery and even more impressed — as well as appalled — by her choosing to have another child after Ishmael.

[H Hunter · Rating 4 out of 5]

A remarkable memoir written by a gifted author. I’m stunned that she survived her ordeals. I’m angry at the unnecessary pain, and absolute life change she experienced due to incompetent doctors.

Unfortunately, many women can recount horrible medical experiences, myself included. When will things change?

[Cook Memorial Public Library · Rating 4 out of 5]

Recommended by Natalia! For readers of Did I Ever Tell You? by Genevieve Kingston and Owner of a Lonely Heart by Bich Minh Nguyen.

Check our catalog: https://encore.cooklib.org/iii/encore...