80 books like Maternal Journal

This is a gorgeous picture book that depicts living with depression so beautifully. Whilst there is some text it’s the pictures that really do the story telling.

It’s beautiful illustrations manage to get across how dark, all encompassing and lonely it can feel when living with depression but offers a sweet hopeful ending that is a comfort to read. I have always loved this book and it will forever be one of my favourites.

Becoming a Mum was one of the biggest changes and challenges I have ever faced. The constant mixture of emotions, the worries, the guilt, it can feel incredibly overwhelming, and it all makes its mark.

This book is a gentle antidote to all those feelings. It offers helpful insight and advice to a wide and varied list of emotions, and it’s helpfully categorized so you can find the one you need quickly. A book that has offered me a lot of comfort (and still does) in amongst the parenting fog.

Sometimes, navigating mental health and emotions can be a confusing and lonely place. This book is an absolute gem in making it all make sense and validating all those emotions you may be feeling.

A particular reason why I liked this book was that my Mum read it, too, and found it a wonderful and insightful read. She herself has never really struggled with her mental health, but I have, and this allowed her to understand how I may have been feeling a little better.

Another book that tackles the issues of feeling sad but makes it accessible for 2-5 year olds. I have read this countless times with my 3-year-old daughter, and she absolutely loves it. A wonderful book with superb illustrations that opens a door to conversations around emotions with little ones and allows them to understand that sometimes we do and will feel sad—and that’s okay!

We love this book so much that now, when my daughter is feeling sad, we say she’s a gloomy baboony and it helps her feel validated and safe while sitting in her sadness.

It was McNish’s poem Embarrassed – a reflection on society’s inability to cope with a mother breastfeeding her child in public – that first led me to her work. I shared it with everyone. 

Part diary, part poetry collection, Nobody Told Me is born of the same honesty and documents her experience from the moment she discovered she was pregnant at Glastonbury and through the first two years of her daughter’s life. 

There’s an immediacy that comes with the pieces being offered exactly how they were written, whether that was “at four AM, some on the loo...[or] at work”. Motherhood, especially early motherhood, has little time for polishing (of furniture or of words), and this lack of editing is, I think, what allows me to see myself reflected in the poems.

This is a devastating story but O’Brien is a master wordsmith and I was dazzled by the writing while being distressed by the events, that of a young teen in Ireland who gets pregnant in abominable circumstances, then tries to find a way out of it. The church looms large in the novel, and the helplessness this young girl feels is palpable. That she keeps fighting against the forces against her despite the gaslighting is a testament to her strength. Even her one chance to escape is foiled in the most frustrating manner. I’ve been reading about the history of reproductive rights for my own novel, and the stories are never easy. The expected thing to do would be to acquiesce and accept the circumstances, but she chose otherwise.  A beautifully written and necessary book.

The word “abortionist” usually conjures up images of dangerous back alleys where untrained men take advantage of women.

In the case of Rickie Solinger’s book, instead, we meet Ruth Barnett, who performed approximately 40,000 abortions in the mid-twentieth century (1918-1968) in Portland, Oregon, without losing a single patient.

What I loved about this book is how Solinger takes us behind the scenes of a thoroughly illegal abortion clinic that still managed to provide expert care to all its patients, even as it sought to evade the law and its enforcers at every turn. 

Something Blue has some of the best possible ingredients for a great women’s fiction novel—forgiveness, personal transformation, friendship that blossoms into more, and the icing on the cake is that it’s set in London! The book focuses primarily on Darcy, who finds herself alone and friendless for the first time in her life. She’s not particularly likable at the beginning of the novel. Still, Giffin does an excellent job of making the reader connect with Darcy, invest in her transformation, and root for a happy ending. Although I don’t have much in common with Darcy, her experiences with pregnancy and childbirth in London caused me to reminisce about my own time living in London and the birth of my first child there. Due to the beautiful descriptions of the setting and the subject matter, it was like a walk down memory lane when I read Something Blue. 

Las Penas, New Mexico, is the setting for this moving novel that follows a year in the lives of the Padilla family. Valdez Quade creates characters with dazzling depth, and you’ll root for the Padillas as they stumble through twelve months, where everything they know is upended and destabilized.

The way this book portrays community reminds me of a favorite Sally Rooney quote from Normal People: “No one can be independent of other people completely, so why not give up the attempt, she thought, go running in the other direction, depend on people for everything, allow them to depend on you, why not.”

Every woman needs at least one practical book to read along with their pregnancy. There are several good options, but Up the Duff has the advantage of being highly entertaining and easy to read. It always made me giggle. It is a great book to have by the side of your bed all pregnancy through.