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We Are Animals: On the Nature and Politics of Motherhood
When Jennifer Case became pregnant unexpectedly with her second child, she was overwhelmed at the prospect of caring for another child in a society with high expectations and low support for mothers. She sought to reclaim control over, if not her changing body, then at least her rapidly declining mental health. Immersing herself in research, Case learned that the United States has one of the highest maternal death rates among developed countries. One in every five women develops a mental health issue as a result of pregnancy. It became clear to her that in order to address the sexism and isolation mothers face--including the racism that further marginalizes women of color--we must recognize these as social problems that affect us all.
We Are Animals draws attention to these issues by examining key moments in Case's life where her experience as both a woman in twenty-first-century America and a child-bearing mammal, and the conflicts between these two identities, were brought into sharp relief. From the surprising salve of parasocial interactions on baby forums to the not so surprisingly intertwined history of industrial dairy farming and wearable breast pumps, Case explores an array of realities that give historical and cultural context to the experience of motherhood. The essays collected here offer a balm for women who have struggled in silence over childbirth trauma, conflicted responses to motherhood, or a deeply felt intuition that what their bodies needed as mothers did not match what society provided. They also offer a much needed, nuanced perspective for policymakers, activists, and medical professionals who continue to shape women's experience of motherhood.
We Are Animals draws attention to these issues by examining key moments in Case's life where her experience as both a woman in twenty-first-century America and a child-bearing mammal, and the conflicts between these two identities, were brought into sharp relief. From the surprising salve of parasocial interactions on baby forums to the not so surprisingly intertwined history of industrial dairy farming and wearable breast pumps, Case explores an array of realities that give historical and cultural context to the experience of motherhood. The essays collected here offer a balm for women who have struggled in silence over childbirth trauma, conflicted responses to motherhood, or a deeply felt intuition that what their bodies needed as mothers did not match what society provided. They also offer a much needed, nuanced perspective for policymakers, activists, and medical professionals who continue to shape women's experience of motherhood.
- GenresNonfiction
224 pages, Paperback
Published September 17, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
December 15, 2025
The experience of childbirth was, for me, an out-of-body experience that took me without effort on my part. I picked up this book and was drawn forward in a similar way. The words on the page simply carried me along on a wave of power and sensation.
Case’s experience of mothering was completely different from mine, but through her sensational prose I was along for the ride with her. There is nothing to prepare you for motherhood and there is little you can do to change your experience of it, but never have I read an account of becoming a mother that carried me so deeply into all aspects of it.
What they don’t tell you is the depth of the grief. “You look like you’re going to melt into a puddle of tears,” a nurse casually remarks during Case’s first labor. Already deep in induced labor, Case doesn’t respond, but in my head as I read, I wanted to punch that nurse. Giving birth can bring incredible joy, but it isn’t without loss: the loss of your pre-mother self, the loss of the birth you imagined, the loss of carrying the child in your womb. Of course, she’s crying, you cow! I wanted to shout at the nurse. Where’s your compassion?
Not only is there grief among mothers in the United States, there is also the alarming rate of maternal and infant mortality, among the highest of developed nations. Well-meaning doctors and nurses have taken childbirth and medicalized it, to the detriment of all concerned, but especially the mothers and more sadly the mothers of color. Black mothers remain statistically far more likely to die in childbirth than white mothers, for reasons which remain unclear. Case’s chapter on Birth Work in the Bible Belt and her discussions with doula Nicolle, who practices in Alabama where the maternal death rate ranks among the five highest in the US are sobering and distressing.
The chapter “A Political Pregnancy,” brings in the political climate of the United States at the time of the writing, during Trump’s first term, when women’s rights were beginning to be challenged. Case says one of Trump’s first executive orders “rescinds funding from any NGO that even refers a woman to another organization for an abortion. The publicity photograph shows Trump at his desk, surrounded by seven other white men.” This is doubly heartbreaking given Case’s narrative of her own experience of becoming unintentionally pregnant (by her husband) after deciding not to have a second child.
Case becomes resigned to having the second child, but she’s keenly aware of exactly what she’s sacrificing to have the baby. His infancy is a misery for Case, who pumps breast milk at work and struggles with sleeplessness. I desperately wanted both my children (and the third one I lost) but through Case’s beautifully candid prose, I am drawn into her world and feel her pain and fury. I wonder with her why men get an equal say in whether a woman bears a child or not, when clearly the woman makes a much bigger sacrifice in pregnancy, childbirth and beyond. I am outraged when Case brings in Oklahoma state representative Justin Humphrey (a white man), who refers to pregnant women as “hosts.”
I am further infuriated by the chapter on the medicalization of childbirth. Having given birth twice at home with a midwife, I knew most of information in this chapter, but I was impressed with the depth of Case’s research and her thoughtful and personal response to it. This sums it up perfectly for me: “Nine months go by, and the woman gives birth whether she wants to or not, in the way she wants to or not, according to the birth plan or not, and then she is left to live with the story, and the story is in the past—something she cannot change.”
One of the great joys of this book is Case’s personal stories, deftly woven into the narrative of the political and cultural environment of pregnancy and childbirth. The birth stories are a delight to read and absolutely captivating. Her struggles as a working mother and with her unplanned second pregnancy are heart-rending and maddening. But this book sings because of Case’s extraordinary gift of prose.
“When the time came, I woke in the night and paced through the kitchen and leaned into the kitchen counter and then the wall. I knelt on the floor, flexing and unflexing my spine, and pressed my head into the bed’s mattress. My body was burning, making the room disappear, and these were the breaths I returned to. This was the body I succumbed to. The ripping and blood and quivering and shaking. The small purple thumbprint left on the wall.”
Case’s experience of mothering was completely different from mine, but through her sensational prose I was along for the ride with her. There is nothing to prepare you for motherhood and there is little you can do to change your experience of it, but never have I read an account of becoming a mother that carried me so deeply into all aspects of it.
What they don’t tell you is the depth of the grief. “You look like you’re going to melt into a puddle of tears,” a nurse casually remarks during Case’s first labor. Already deep in induced labor, Case doesn’t respond, but in my head as I read, I wanted to punch that nurse. Giving birth can bring incredible joy, but it isn’t without loss: the loss of your pre-mother self, the loss of the birth you imagined, the loss of carrying the child in your womb. Of course, she’s crying, you cow! I wanted to shout at the nurse. Where’s your compassion?
Not only is there grief among mothers in the United States, there is also the alarming rate of maternal and infant mortality, among the highest of developed nations. Well-meaning doctors and nurses have taken childbirth and medicalized it, to the detriment of all concerned, but especially the mothers and more sadly the mothers of color. Black mothers remain statistically far more likely to die in childbirth than white mothers, for reasons which remain unclear. Case’s chapter on Birth Work in the Bible Belt and her discussions with doula Nicolle, who practices in Alabama where the maternal death rate ranks among the five highest in the US are sobering and distressing.
The chapter “A Political Pregnancy,” brings in the political climate of the United States at the time of the writing, during Trump’s first term, when women’s rights were beginning to be challenged. Case says one of Trump’s first executive orders “rescinds funding from any NGO that even refers a woman to another organization for an abortion. The publicity photograph shows Trump at his desk, surrounded by seven other white men.” This is doubly heartbreaking given Case’s narrative of her own experience of becoming unintentionally pregnant (by her husband) after deciding not to have a second child.
Case becomes resigned to having the second child, but she’s keenly aware of exactly what she’s sacrificing to have the baby. His infancy is a misery for Case, who pumps breast milk at work and struggles with sleeplessness. I desperately wanted both my children (and the third one I lost) but through Case’s beautifully candid prose, I am drawn into her world and feel her pain and fury. I wonder with her why men get an equal say in whether a woman bears a child or not, when clearly the woman makes a much bigger sacrifice in pregnancy, childbirth and beyond. I am outraged when Case brings in Oklahoma state representative Justin Humphrey (a white man), who refers to pregnant women as “hosts.”
I am further infuriated by the chapter on the medicalization of childbirth. Having given birth twice at home with a midwife, I knew most of information in this chapter, but I was impressed with the depth of Case’s research and her thoughtful and personal response to it. This sums it up perfectly for me: “Nine months go by, and the woman gives birth whether she wants to or not, in the way she wants to or not, according to the birth plan or not, and then she is left to live with the story, and the story is in the past—something she cannot change.”
One of the great joys of this book is Case’s personal stories, deftly woven into the narrative of the political and cultural environment of pregnancy and childbirth. The birth stories are a delight to read and absolutely captivating. Her struggles as a working mother and with her unplanned second pregnancy are heart-rending and maddening. But this book sings because of Case’s extraordinary gift of prose.
“When the time came, I woke in the night and paced through the kitchen and leaned into the kitchen counter and then the wall. I knelt on the floor, flexing and unflexing my spine, and pressed my head into the bed’s mattress. My body was burning, making the room disappear, and these were the breaths I returned to. This was the body I succumbed to. The ripping and blood and quivering and shaking. The small purple thumbprint left on the wall.”
November 20, 2024
An enjoyable book that I, a man, recommend to those among my brothers who want to understand life and the world and to have close relationships with the women who are important to us. I would put this next to Roxane Gay's _Hunger_ for both clarity of authorship as well as generosity for the way these authors share their personal and private experience. It's been one of the rare books that has given me an entirely new perspective on the world and for which I enjoyed giving space for that.
May 25, 2024
I really appreciated Jennifer Case's honesty in this unflinching and interesting memoir about her unplanned pregnancy with her second child. Case examines motherhood and how we talk about it and experience it. Also the things we don't talk about, the things we struggle with, and more. Case is an academic, but this memoir is written in a thought-provoking, accessible manner.
March 12, 2025
Ooof! This collection of essays is evocative and raw and probably should be required reading for all. I thought it was some of the best feminist reading I’ve read in a long time. Case doesn’t shy away from her most honest thoughts on motherhood and never qualifies these thoughts to make the reader more comfortable.
November 17, 2024
Reflections on both the miracle and burden that is the ability to create life. At once scathing and soothing, compassionate and reproving, at times cringe inducing and deeply relatable as a whole. Highly recommend it.
June 15, 2025
Finally, an honest, vulnerable book about how difficult it is to be pregnant, give birth, and make choices that sometimes are already made for us. Strongly recommend this book for anyone who's been part of a birth experience. (So, everyone.)
October 30, 2024
Visceral and thought-provoking
May 20, 2025
I was incredibly grateful to work on this book while it was still in the editing process. I knew from the beginning that it was something special, and am so pleased at the way it turned out.
June 8, 2025
Brilliant book!
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews