The Hatching: Experiments in Motherhood and Technology

by Jenni Quilter

A provocative examination of reproductive technologies that questions our understanding of fertility, motherhood, and the female body

Since the world’s first test-tube baby was born in 1978, in vitro fertilization has made the unimaginable possible for millions of people, but its revolutionary potential remains unrealized. Today, fertility centers continue to reinforce conservative norms of motherhood and family, and infertility remains a deeply emotional experience many women are reluctant to discuss.

In this vivid and incisive personal and cultural history, Jenni Quilter explores what it is like to be one of those women, both the site of a bold experiment and a potential mother caught between fearing and yearning. Quilter observes her own experience with the eye of a critic, recounting the pleasures and pains of objectification: how medicine mediates between women and their bodies, how marketing redefines pregnancy and early parenthood as a set of products, how we celebrate the “natural” and denigrate the artificial.

With nuance, empathy, and a fierce intellect, Quilter asks urgent questions about what it means to desire a child and how much freedom reproductive technologies actually offer. Her writing embraces the complexities of motherhood and the humanity of IVF: the waiting rooms, the message boards, and the genetic permutations of what a thoroughly modern family might mean.

Genres: Nonfiction, Science, Memoir, Parenting, Medicine, Medical, Biography Memoir

288 pages, Hardcover

Published December 6, 2022

Reviews

[Petra X · Rating 4 out of 5]

Review I found it very hard to rate and review this book. It addressed reproduction from historical, scientific, technological, religious - Christian - and economic areas through a classic feminist lens. The author didn't really put a foot wrong, her research was excellent, but I do not subscribe to the kind of feminism which excludes men from anything but demonisation.

I'm more a Ruth Bader Ginsberg kind of feminist. What's good for the gander is good for the goose too, and better off being good for both of them. When the author sees a woman as a patient reduced to her body parts, she is only concerned with that, but everyone is reduced to their organs when they are being diagnosed or going through treatment.

I didn't agree with the author's conclusions on adoption, where she quoted Nancy Verrier an adoptive parent and psychologist who thought that adoption was a 'fundamentally werenching experience, regardless of how either parent or child thought it worked out.' She said tht the wound created in separating a biological mother from a child was 'physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual'. And that generally poor women, often not in the US, were being used to breed babies for rich, infertile American women - they didn't have the means to raise them themselves. She felt that helping these women afford their babies would be better.

This totally ignores that women might not actually want their babies for cultural reasons rather than economic ones. A single woman pregnant in the societies which place the burden of men's honour on women's sexuality might be doomed to death. Then in some societies the pressure to have a boy child results, as in India, advertising hoardings for abortions abortions for sex selection are illegal in India but it doesn't stop them but the woman might not want an abortion, or have the means financially or perhaps geographically. In the West, there are young girls, married women, those who do not believe in abortion, all could afford to raise their child but don't want to. Are these children to be left to grow up in institutions because of this 'primal, wrenching wound?'

As an alternative to adoption, the author highly recommends embryo adoption - those fertilized eggs left over from successful IV attempts where the baby would be much more the mother's. An interesting point was how the Christian right had hijacked embryo adoption until it had the same requirements and strictures as adoption. Home visits, church attendance etc. They had reclassified the few-day old collection of cells as a baby. It is in their eyes just as much murder to leave these embryos to die as it is to have an abortion. I see their point, might as well go all the way. I don't agree with any of these 'pro-lifers' positions though.

The book is a very good read, if dry and textbook like until the author has a baby herself. Then it becomes more personal and more interesting. I admired her for her research, for her writing and her honesty. I did not admire her for her life choices.

She gets a baby from the usual long drawn out fertility treatment of IVF that so many women face because she is 37 and single and wants a baby. She chooses for the father an ex-boyfriendwho wants a child. He has a genetic issue which may have affected their daughter, but if not, she will be a carrier. Since she lives with another guy, I don't see quite how he is the good and involved father she chose him to be. Sounds more like a divorced arrangement, with visiting times, especially since he married since the author gave birth.

When her baby was very young, she met another man (with whom she lives) and very quickly gets pregnant by him. He doesn't want to be a father. She says she doesn't have the money to raise another child by herself, which given she is a professor at NYU - salaries ranging from $180K to $350K is a little hard to take on board, privilege indeed! And so she has an abortion. More than one, she says 'abortions' but does not detail any except one. Naturally I wonder how many she had and if it was from economic issues or the fact that her live in boyfriend wants nothing to do with her daughter for the first two years and at age four, she says they took 'mutual delight in annoying each other'.

It's all right going on about feminism and white privilege but really she exploits it to the full whilst decrying it in the diatribes. Bringing a child into the world without the possibility of a full-time father is selfish at best. Saying that other women have to give up their babies because they can't afford them and having abortions because she, this woman earning a fortune for most of us, can't afford one either, seems so hypocritical.

And having a father who is married to someone else and was not a live in parent, replacing him with a man who doesn't seem to have any feeling for her child, seems to me to be the actions of someone who wanted a child for their own sake and didn't give much thought to what the child needed. All of us who have had bad marriages have tried to hang on in there because of the children. I don't think that a child without a father is necessarily going to have issues, but they aren't getting the full experience of two loving parents either. I do think two gay parents are as good as two heterosexual ones, but different

There are many ways of reviewing this book, probably a better review would be from a more academic and political perspective, but I had more to say about my reaction to the book. If I rate it 2 stars for enjoyability and 5 stars for how much I learned, it wouldn't reflect the book at all. 3.5 does. So ok, generosity at the beginning of the year: 4 stars.

[Mihiret · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a deeply thoughtful exploration of how we do or don't get pregnant and the role of science in getting there. It is a topic the author is personally invested in, as it begins with her struggles with infertility and her story provides a human framework, but she is not only recording and processing her own story. "The "experiments" in the book's subtitle is an accurate match for the book's tone. Quilter discusses the experiments that led to modern assisted reproduction, but she's also interested in how we have experimented with how to talk about the process. I was fascinated for instance with a discussion of how sonograms have changed how we talk about pregnant bodies, including our own. The book provides a deep historical context for the development of IVF, pointing out throughout whose narratives and experiences are privileged and whose voices are amplified. I felt engaged with Quilter's personal story, but I also was fascinated by the history and science. This feels like a very timely book that offers new ways to think about fertility, infertility, and the process of becoming a parent.

Thank you to the author, the publisher, and Netgalley for the free digital ARC I received in exchange for an honest review. My opinions are all my own.

[CatReader · Rating 2 out of 5]

DNF at just over the halfway mark. The Hatching is part-memoir, part-exploration of the field of reproductive medicine.

I would not recommend the memoir portion of this book. In my opinion, insightful memoirs are those in which the author recounts their lived experiences with a sense of perspective, context, and personal growth. In order to have perspective and context, one needs to critically consider other viewpoints and perspectives against their own to achieve personal growth, not dwell so deeply in their own worldview that they exist only in an echo chamber of self-perpetuating congratulatory beliefs.

I would also not recommend the overview of reproductive medicine as told by Quilter, as it is told in a very revisionist way that vilifies practically every non-female-bodied character. Society has made a huge positive strides toward equality and autonomy since the dawn of this field, but it's unfair and irresponsible to harshly judge and slander people of the 1700s, 1800s, and 1900s by 2022 standards, as they were most likely acting appropriately by their own era's standards. It's absolutely appropriate to reflect on behavior back then and comment on how society has changed, but Quilter demonstrates again and again in this work that the concept of perspective eludes her. For those interested in the history of reproductive medicine, I would highly recommend Rachel Gross' excellent work Vagina Obscura, told in a much more objective, circumspect, yet still feminist way.

[Nidhi Shrivastava · Rating 5 out of 5]

Releasing today, Jenni Quilter’s immersive and thought provoking, Hatching’s memoir explores Quilter’s personal and often difficult experiences with modern reproductive technologies, fertility, motherhood, and the female body. Through the memoir, Quilter explores the choices we have as a humanity when it comes to our reproductive health, desires, and decisions.

Growing up in a culture that holds contradictory values on a woman’s body, Quilter’s exploration of this issue, as she undergoes medical procedures and traces the historical trajectories and people who began to examine reproductive technologies, blurs the lines between public and private. As she deals with her sentiments towards motherhood itself, the prospect of infertility and making the phone call across the world to her own mother was memorable. There is a bond that mother-child have when it comes to carrying the generation forward and the expectation of a parent to become a grandparent.
The social, psychological, and emotional pressures that would-be mothers/parents and women who face the prospect of infertility is at the heart of this powerful book. Most interesting to me was when Quilter mentions that women who were infertile were often accused of witchcraft or portrayed as witches/sites of evil who consumed children in fantasy narratives such as Rapunzel and Hansel and Gretel. If the child was stillborn, deformed, or had a miscarriage, then too, evil women and foul spirits were held responsible.

As our society continues to grapple with the ethical, social, and moral implications of reproductive technologies, Quilter’s memoir engages with her personal experience on the IVF journey with her parents half way across the world. She begins with the discussion of freezing her eggs, which in itself is an expensive procedure.

Undoubtedly, Hatching is a book that is a must-read as it explores female agency, and how women deal with the prospect of motherhood, and how their bodies becomes sites of political debates, technological experiments, and human life. It is raw. It is powerful. It is the most awaited discussion that we need to have no matter what one’s values on this sensitive topic! It is ultimately about how we make choices and how complex and nuanced we are as reproductive beings.

[Becky H · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thought this book was amazing. I learned so much about IVF. It was so interesting to learn everything its taken for IVF to even be in the realm of possibility and how this path to motherhood has come to be. When I went to the hospital for routine prenatle care I never thought about all the sacrifices women before me have made for all the better quality care we recieve today. I love learning about history and I really learned so much intersting history I wasnt expecting to find in the pages of this book. I always love a book where I learn something new and my head is full of alot of new knowlege thanks to this book. If you are interested in learning about IVF and or the history of how alot of technology we encounter in motherhood became a reality you should read this book!

[Tilly · Rating 3 out of 5]

Really interesting, this book critiques fertility technology both now and how it developed. My interest dropped off a little when the author has her baby, wasn’t as gripping to me. Overall I think I could read more into this topic, and this book was a soft start.

[Lauren · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[L L · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is an informative and interdisciplinary examination of reproductive technologies with a focus on IVF.
Quilter observes that in the assisted reproductive literature, there is little cross over between the medical technical literature, cultural and feminist theory and analysis, and the personal narrative accounts of people's IVF journeys. She attempts to integrate all three in her book. Quilter narrates her own journey as a single woman undergoing IVF alongside medical history and cultural theory.

The result is informative, though sobering (it reminds us how modern reproductive technology depended on the experimentation on Black enslaved women and other marginalized groups, and harvested eggs and embryos, often without permission), thought-provoking (ultrasound is seeing the body through sound, motherhood as a series of consumer choices, agency through the choose to objectify one's body), and moving (some of the final chapters about the early years with her daughter).There are occasional sentences in the book that border on obtuse nonsensical academic-ese, but they do not overwhelm the book.

I deeply enjoyed this book and highly recommend it.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

“There once was a woman who wished very much to have a little child, but she could not obtain her wish.” Thus begins the story of Thumbelina by Hans Christian Andersen. “Many fairy tales are set in motion…by a woman who decides to take an unorthodox, experimental course of action to gain a child…I had never thought I would be that woman.” In the story, the fairy matter-of-factly replies, “Oh, that can be easily managed,” and hands her a magic barleycorn.

Ironically, the Walnut Room fairies at Macy’s echo a similar promise as they waft by each table wearing prom dresses and waving glittering wands. They hand each guest a small clear “magic” stone sure to make all their wishes come true. The Bible describes similar miracles in the stories of Sarah, Hannah, and Elizabeth in almost magical language. But my nest of plastic spheres from Macy’s are collecting dust, and I’m left to wonder what happened to my answered prayer? Where is my wish come true?

The “fetus in utero has become a metaphor for ‘man’ in space, floating free, attached only by the umbilical cord to the spaceship.” But “Why is it so difficult to become a spacewoman in one’s own life?” Maternity is seen as a mantlepiece, put on the pedestal (or petri dish as the case may be). Some “people had children when they realized their careers weren’t going to work out the way they wanted.” For me, the opposite is true: I am pursuing a PhD in education because children didn’t work out the way I wanted. Childlessness is grieving a choice made by circumstance without my consent.

“The process of deciding to have a child has changed my phenomenology of self…How I think or perceive the world cannot be peeled away from my reproductive experience…not having a child is just as much a reproductive experience as having one…I am a multi-minded Scylla of attention and breath and thinking…a meteor trail spread out through the world.”

[Big Fat Bear Living Somewhere Nice In Canada · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 starts, not quite 4 for me. hesitant to rate this, but what the heck.

contrary to other reviews, i loved the in depth history of ob/gyn science and how it was led by men who exploited women -- which, yes, was the norm for the time but doesn't mean that it was condoned by all in the field or that it shouldn't have been opposed at the time. even if you disagree that we can judge those in history for their morals, the book does a good job of opening up the discussion. when the history lesson ended half way through the book, i found that the structure that book started with had ended and it became less interesting.

i didn't always agree with quilter's point of view, but i do appreciate her point of view. sometimes i felt the symbolism prescribed to womanhood/motherhood/pregnancy was too literal and interpreted in a less than favorable way when, imo, it's not that deep for the average layman, and that in science and medicine (as opposed to social sciences), the personal opinions and experiences of the subjects doesn't make sense to be included in research. the social sciences is the field for that, and would be a more valid and appropriate field for quilter to critique in historic retrospect. the text was imbued with references and a deep knowledge of earlier feminist works, so i learned a lot.

lastly, quilter is a very unique individual and chose a unique family -- it was fun and mind-opening to read about her mindset around motherhood and pregnancy and contemplate. this is part memoir and part historical non-fiction. for most of her narrative it seems that quilter almost regrets having her child, or at least feels that she rushed into IVF without thinking about alternative lifestyles and reflecting on why she wanted a child so badly and so suddenly.

[Thomas McInerney · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the most glaring flaws of this book is its lack of empirical evidence or scholarly research. Rather than backing up their claims with credible sources and data, the author seems content with presenting their personal opinions as gospel truth. This lazy approach does a disservice to readers who expect a well-reasoned and well-researched exploration of the subject.

Furthermore, the book appears to be more concerned with promoting the author's biased agenda than offering a balanced and insightful analysis. Any dissenting opinions or counterarguments are conveniently brushed aside, leaving readers with a one-sided and distorted view of the subject matter.

The writing style is equally lackluster, often veering into self-indulgent and pretentious territory. The author seems more interested in showcasing their literary prowess than in providing coherent arguments or compelling narratives. As a result, the prose becomes a tedious and tiresome exercise in verbosity, making it difficult for readers to stay engaged.

Perhaps the most disappointing aspect of "Hatching" is its failure to address the nuanced and complex realities of motherhood and technology. The book oversimplifies the multifaceted challenges faced by mothers in the digital age, reducing them to trite and superficial anecdotes. By doing so, the author dismisses the genuine struggles and triumphs of mothers, rendering their experiences invisible and unimportant.

[Emalee · Rating 4 out of 5]

As someone who has spent nearly a decade working as a provider in an IVF clinic, I was ready for a fresh examination of its meaning. It is so easy to fall into a saccharine view of the work that I do but the truth of it is far more gritty and complex. I spend time thinking of the “performance “ of aspects of the work and the constant externalizing away from the body- the images on a screen, the sperm in a syringe, the flash of light as an embryo is transferred. I think about my own intrinsic resistance to this imaging and out of body ness when I carried my own children, before I ever worked in IVF. I declined any ultrasounds with one exception- I had an early scan with my third pregnancy after losing the second. I did the scan with my family doctor who had very little experience with ultrasound, whereas I had plenty. I held the wand myself and taught her where to see the embryo and the heartbeat. I felt as though looking at the baby before birth was like violating the baby’s privacy (or was it violating my privacy?). Like the womb is a private space that is meant to be dark and mysterious. After all, when else in life do we routinely image and measure every major body part? I knew that if my children had major birth defects I could live to regret the decision but they were fine, and I was fine, and I love that their first pictures are with me, in my arms, embodied.

[Ally · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jenni writes this book from social, political, historical and personal perspectives. It is interesting and I made it all the way through during a 5 day beach vacation (but I don’t recommend reading this book on vacation - put me in a weird headspace).

Honestly, it was a little scary and depressing with hopeful and beautiful undertones.

It’s important stuff to read about - such as the racial, gender and financial disparities between all participants present and past in the reproductive fields. It was just hard to stomach, which is not the author’s fault, because I truly believe that informed participation in the world is essential.

Overall, she is an excellent writer and the style, vocabulary, and structure of the book were all great. If I was tired of learning about history, then I got a break with some of her personal story intertwined.

[Kelly {SpaceOnTheBookcase] · Rating 3 out of 5]

having experienced infertility and several miscarriages, I was really interested in The Hatching because I know what it's like for your body not to work the way it is supposed to. What I expected was less textbook and more personal experience. While Jenni Quilter does talk about her experiences and how it affected her life, her journey into motherhood and her relationship with the people around her; there wasn't enough. This read more like a textbook or a complete history of invitro.

Did I like it? Yeah...but it was a challenge and is only going to speak to a very niche audience.

Thank you to Riverhead Books for gifting me a copy to review.

[Alexandra Knopf · Rating 4 out of 5]

Trigger warnings: description of violence on women, transphobia, all reproductive topics obviously

The author tried to be inclusive, but topics like this are very difficult to get right

Don't read this book if you can't handle the extremely cruel history of experimentation of (especially slave) women for reproductive health.

If you're interested, this book goes very deep on the history of IVF and how we got to the point we're at today. It's written from the author's perspective which makes it very compelling and in many ways emotional. It's well-written and easy to follow. Most of the history things end up being fairly dry, but it's very hard to do much better.

[Summer · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5*
This book offers a stark, eye-opening account of the long, often erased history behind IVF. Rather than beginning with the first “test-tube baby,” it traces centuries of experimentation carried out by male scientists driven by curiosity and control over reproduction. The author exposes how women (especially those who were poor, enslaved, or otherwise marginalized) were subjected to invasive, unethical, and often horrifying procedures in the name of scientific progress. It uncovers the exploitation and discrimination that paved the way for today’s technologies, weaved in with the author's own IVF experience.

[Amy Carter · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fascinating!!! I especially loved the author’s stories of her own experience with infertility and IVF. The history behind it all was so interesting to learn about, though parts of it were pretty tough to read (so many things happened without consent). A lot of it felt pretty academic, complete with tough vocabulary and some confusion about the actual point/argument being made. Overall, I definitely enjoyed it and learned a lot, but the vocab made me wish I had read it on my kindle so I could look up all the words!

[Amy Beth · Rating 4 out of 5]

I stumbled upon this in the new book section at the library. I got it because it connected to current thoughts on life choices. However, it ended up connected to thoughts on image making and objectification which I was fascinated by as someone versed in images. The deeper in you go, the deeper you get into the author’s choices and family, and the last third of the book was revealing and meaningful.

[Susan Kurth · Rating 2 out of 5]

I expected this to be a memoir about a woman using modern medicine to get pregnant, and it sort of was, but a significant amount of the book was about the history of reproductive medicine, which I wasn't interested in. I really skimmed through most of the book. I will say this: after reading it, I was happier than ever that I never had kids!

[Tara Sypien · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 🌟. I thought this was going to be more of a personal narrative of the author's struggle with infertility. Instead it's more of a history of IVF. It was at times interesting but at times boring as well. And the author made a personal decision at the end of the book that literally blew my mind and can't understand.

[Kelsey · Rating 2 out of 5]

This author makes a living as a writing instructor so it surprised me how scattered this seemed to me. Maybe it was due to me listening to the audiobook — perhaps the disparate sections are visually separated in the print version?

[Anna Hogeland · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautiful and compelling! Quilter seamlessly blends her personal story with a social/medical history of mother-becoming that should be more widely known. I found it both deeply touching and informative.

[Laurie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this from the perspective of a mother who underwent IVF after the age of 40. It just isn’t well written or compelling - especially compared with other books. I wanted to have and read this book but it just fell short.

[Monique Day · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quilter provides an important, under-examined history of IVF and reproduction technology. I appreciated her care in describing the challenge of infertility with the intersection of non-traditional expectations around motherhood.

[Katelyn]

An exploration of IVF interwoven with Quilter's own experience. A bit academic and scattered for me, I skimmed quite a bit of the content to get to Quilter's story.

[Rebecca Siebenaler · Rating 5 out of 5]

The book I've been waiting to read exploring motherhood, parenthood, and their confluence with technology and human choice.

[Nicole Cain · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 ⭐️

[Emily · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 - really appreciated the more interrogative philosophical elements of this but was occasionally bogged down by the amount of history and biology detail it went into.

[Kristina · Rating 3 out of 5]

The 12th chapter should’ve been the ending of this book. The majority of the 13th chapter, until the the past few pages, was an odd way to end, and felt very disjointed.

[Emily Kelley · Rating 5 out of 5]

As a pregnant midwife who also works in technology, I loved this book. Really outlines the challenges and power of reproductive technologies