Natalie Kon-yu was nine weeks pregnant when the trembling began. Two weeks later she checked herself into a mental health unit. Rather than a woman with a health concern, the doctors saw Natalie as a vessel carrying precious cargo. This loss of agency carried on through childbirth and into her early years as a mother. Natalie discovered that she was far from alone.
In fact, her experience typifies the inequalities that weigh heavily on child-bearing women, as well as the devaluation of what is still perceived as ‘women’s work’. With bracing clarity and verve, Kon-yu tackles the outdated institutions, expectations and ideologies that hold us hostage as parents. The pressure is building and the cost on families is stacking up. Something has to give.
Drawing on personal narratives, history, social research and interviews, The Cost of Labour tackles the expectations that keep us all hostage to a dynamic unfit for contemporary society and offers hope for a way out of the trap.
Natalie is a creative writer, editor and academic, with a particular focus on the creative writing by women and feminist literary criticism. She is currently working on a project which will examine the representation of women in the Australian Publishing Industry.
She has co-authored and co-edited Just Between Us: Australian Writers Tell the Truth about Female Friendship which was published by Pan Macmillan in June 2013 and is also interested in the way in which female friendships are portrayed in our culture.
Natalie’s creative and critical work has been published in national and international journals and she has won several prizes for her writing, including the Katharine Susannah Prichard Emerging Writer in Residency, an Australian Society of Authors’ Mentorship and her manuscript was long-listed for The Australian/Vogel Award. Natalie is currently working on completing her first novel.
Is motherhood deeply politicised? I would not have thought so but after reading Natalie Kon-Yu’s compelling examination of this issue in The Cost of Labour, I’m starting to realise just how antiquated the systems that are meant to support our mothers really are in Australia.
From pregnancy, birth and throughout motherhood, Kon-Yu scrutinises the health system, the employment sector, the government and more generally, the cultural norms of the West in preventing equality for child-bearing women. She draws on her own personal experiences and those of others, backing everything up with sound evidence — and some of what she uncovers is pretty shocking.
Some highlights I could relate to: the clinical, detached approach to pregnancy and birth, the outdated parental leave policies, the social cost of inequitable childcare. How our work ethic will always be questioned when it’s business as usual for new fathers (there’s a very appropriate reference made to Jacinda Ardern’s experiences vs. Scomo’s). It doesn’t do women any favours. There is a lot to digest and Kon-Yu condenses it down in a manner that really hits home.
Much of what we know about motherhood is predominantly from a white perspective and I was really glad to see that Kon-Yu made a concerted effort to round this out, given that we live in such a diverse place. She pays particular respect to First Nations people and the history of trauma they have been (and continue to be) subjected to. Some of the commentary around the intersection of racism, sexism and classism was pretty powerful.
I’d recommend this for anyone seeking to become a parent (men included), or even if you’re in the throes of parenthood right now. Highly informative and enlightening stuff.
This is a meticulously researched, brave, important and necessary read. Whether you're a man or a woman, if you live in our modern society (i.e. under the western patriarchal heteronormative paradigm) do yourself a favour, do the next generations a favour, and inform yourself about the real cost of women's work. The truth hurts, but better to be informed. Especially if we hope to change things, for ourselves and for those who come after us. A brilliant and disturbing read indeed.
An important book that addresses many overlooked issues in pregnancy, birth, and parenting. I especially appreciated the emphasis on minority groups such as First Nations Australians and queer parents and the huge cultural problems faced with pregnancy and parenting in Australian society today. Very eye opening!
At times I felt the writing style was cross between an extremely long essay and the author processing her immense frustration, which I can’t even begin to fathom how difficult or painful her experiences were for her. Some of the ideas and flow of the writing felt disjointed and like it was cramming so many topics in one book - I do feel like there is more than one book’s worth of topics to cover in, “The Cost of Labour”.
I did enjoy some of the main points of the book but the style and level of depth just didn't quite meet my personal preference. Some parts I just needed more ideas to chew on, but it felt like quite an 'academic' style, more like a reference book. However that doesn't underplay the importance of many of the ideas, and the useful way that these ideas are evidenced in this book, if you are looking for that.
This book covers pregnancy, birth, and motherhood, and the work that is required for and adjacent to in each. In doing so, so much ground is rightfully covered, going wide in my perspective, particularly in the later chapters, rather than deep. Parts would be familiar to you, if you’ve engaged with any of this is contemporary Australia, but still, I noted so many quotes that resonated well with me:
- The pregnant woman, drained of reality, increasingly becomes a dehumanised container whose only purpose should be to serve the foetus correctly - Rickie Solinger
- The advent of reproductive technology has brought about with it a greater policing of the pregnant woman’s body to the point that women feel personally guilty for miscarriages.
- The politics of abortion are always twinned with the politics of sterilisation, and this deeply held racism is fundamental to our copy girls ideas about the nation and its building block, the family.
- Political resistance to patriarchal medicine has been replaced by a ‘consumer movement’, one in which women have an array of birth ‘choices’ but for which they must take personal liability - Kate Rossiter
- Stay at home mothers in the 70s spent less one-on-one time with their children as working mothers do now.
- The ideas of motherhood and womanhood remain entwined for women in a way that fatherhood and manhood never have for men.
- A neoliberal model of work does not value care as the critical work it it’s, rather it exploits those who do caring work by claiming they are getting a significant personal reward that money cannot buy.
- A broadening of the definition of mothering allows for all genders to be comfortable with this kind of care work.
- Colonised Australia has a rich history of people protesting for better paid work conditions, and a fairly one-sided history of people agitating for changes within the home.
Did not finish this book as found it way too academic and very ideological. Written at the start of the pandemic i found it to be very derogatory of the Australian Healthcare system. Full of complaints about what women don’t like about women’s healthcare with little insight as to how difficult it is for those currently working in a system that is under resourced and pushed to it’s limit . As a healthcare worker working in the system there were some inaccuracies in descriptions of clinical procedures etc. I would not recommend if someone is looking for an objective account of women’s healthcare.
Hmm. A tough read. I resonated with the sections on medical mismanagement and how that resulted in my own, tougher than necessary pregnancy and then resulted in me having a traumatic birth, hence my initial interest in this book. The remaining, heavily feminist view points didn’t really do it for me. And as a result some of the chapters were incredibly laborious to get through. But I read with, and to keep, an open mind and I learnt some interesting things through reading this book. Not a book I would personally recommend widely.
Finished reading this book after finding out that even though we qualify for a higher child care subsidy rate we’ve reached the cap because child care for two small children is incredibly expensive. Another part that resonated with me was as a birthing parent deemed as a high risk pregnancy I was put in obstetric care which meant I lost continuity of care. There’s so many things we could do better in Australia that would support families. I’m getting cross just thinking about them.
A must read, I’ve listened to the audiobook, now I’ll promptly buy the hard copy of the book and share it around. Touches on care, pregnancy, feminism, work, gender and so many other big ideas besides. If you’ve had a baby, are a woman, or a man, or are expecting, or post-partum I reckon this is a must read!
I think this book does its strongest work in describing the healthcare system pregnant people in Australia face - it’s fresh, devastating and personal. It fell off a bit when it felt like the author was using big concepts like the devaluation of care work to justify things like hiring a nanny and cleaner (which I’m not opposed to! It just felt out of place.)
Essential reading for anyone anticipating having kids in the near or distant future, parents in paid employment and parents who aren't, other family members of future or current parents, and all their friends. Plus it's beautifully written.
Relevant to anyone parenting in Australia. Whilst it is capable to have easy pregnancies with straightforward births and post partum periods within Australia's public health care, many of my friends, myself included, can relate to the struggles described within Kon-yu's journey.
This book taught me a lot about pregnancy, labour and raising children in Australia. In summary, Australia is not ranking very well among developed countries. There is definitely a lot that could be improved. An important read relevant to anyone parenting in Australia.
a very interesting read - would highly recommend as an australian perspective in reproductive rights (especially in discourse that often sees american perspectives at the forefront)
- thanks to @netgalley and @affirmpress for my #gifted copy
I have been on a quest lately, trying to read and learn as much as I can about what contemporary motherhood looks like. I'm on a personal journey to decide whether or not I want to have my own children one day, and when in doubt, I read. Fortunately, The Cost of Labour is the book I did not know I needed.
First, I must express my gratitude to the author for the incredible and thorough research conducted to write this book and the vulnerability, wisdom, and humility necessary to share her personal experiences and the challenges faced during her pregnancies. Talking about pregnancy, the good and the bad -but mainly, the bad- is the only way to demystify the experience of being pregnant: it is crucial because pregnant people are still learning the importance of advocating for themselves amid a system designed to silence them. For this reason, I will always celebrate this book.
To say that I was fascinated with this book from beginning to end it's an understatement. I thoroughly enjoyed how Kon-yu could interweave dry hard facts -and scary ones- with storytelling, continuously maintaining a good balance between academic research and biographical elements. I also appreciate the full-on roller-coaster of emotions this book made me feel: from compassion and empathy, to utter sadness and pure rage. Some stories were hard to swallow, and some data was challenging to process; nevertheless, they never felt more relevant.
I was also utterly captivated by Kon-yu's examination of the health care system in Australia and how it affects pregnant people, from conception to childbirth and then motherhood. Kon-yu advocates for politics that protect and truly support pregnant people. In doing so, she does not forget Aboriginal people, who fare way worse than any other people in this country.
Overall, The Cost of Labour is a relevant, must-read exploration of reproductive matters that affects us all. I'm grateful I had the chance to read this book and learn so much more about the lived experiences of people through pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood.
I think the author exaggerates the frustration and problems in medical care of pregnant women. If she has childbirth in China or other developing countries, she might be crying and beg for suicide. I myself is Chinese migrants to Australia and English is my third language. I was explained different options of delivering baby by GP, has been treated well the entire time of pregnancy and childbirth in the hospital. I felt safe and well cared of. The hospital gave sessions of breastfeeding support and etc.After discharged from hospital I got 14 days free of charge postnatal visit from midwives. Every woman is different and every pregnancy is different. Some might have very shitty experience but you can't just heard those complaints. There are always choices(different GP, different hospital etc), do ask if you are not sure, be honest with your feeling, talk to other mums,do your homework and be brave.
What a disappointment and what a missed opportunity. As the mother of a young woman who has not yet experienced pregnancy, as the mother of a young man who may one day be a partner and father, as a feminist, as a community member, I was excited to read this book.
I expected to read about negative experiences but I also expected to read about what people are doing to address those experiences in a productive and positive way. As a 'Happy Gestator', I found this book divisive and sad, a book of almost unrelenting negativity until the last five pages.
After discussing the book as I read it with my daughter (who is studying to be a nurse and midwife), she has elected not to read it. I can't help thinking that this is a wise choice!