Jennifer Gilmore

A raw and honest examination of one couple's desperate journey towards parenthood, The Mothers is, in part, inspired by Jennifer Gilmore's own experience of navigating domestic open adoption.

After miscarriage, fertility drugs and multiple failed IVF attempts, Jesse and Ramon turn to adoption as a means to create the family they want. With international adoption all but ruled out due to Jesse's medical history and long waiting lists, they decide to register with a agency to participate in an show more open adoption. As a well educated, heterosexual couple Jesse and Ramon expect their profile will be well received, but after the interminable process of paperwork is finally complete all they can do is wait, not for a child...but for a mother to choose them.

Jesse's yearning for motherhood is achingly raw, and as I experienced a period of infertility myself, I was deeply sympathetic. Related in the first person it's a gripping account of the ups and downs of Jesse and Ramon's quest, it's effects on their relationship and the

The process of open adoption seems incredibly brutal. Jesse and Ramon are forced to wrangle with petty bureaucracy, under-performing agencies and poor screening. I was rather horrified to learn that desperate couples are regularly preyed upon by fraudsters looking for money, attention or some combination of both. They are so incredibly vulnerable as they can do nothing but wait for a birth mother to choose them. Gilmore is not unsympathetic to these birth mothers, and raises interesting questions about the birth mother's role in open adoption and the possible complications and benefits of the arrangement. There is some anger here, as well as heartbreak, resignation and hope and it is all completely believable.

As Jesse struggles through the process she worries over the questions of what it means to be a mother, what makes a good mother and what compromises she is willing to make in order to become a mother. She studies the mother's she knows, while gazing wistfully at their bulging stomachs or swaddled infants. She considers the experiences of her own mother, who made her career a priority, and those of her over protective mother in law. She wonders what sort of mother she will be, she wonders if she will ever get the chance to find out.

The Mothers is a confronting and poignant story of family, motherhood and the yearning for both. If this echo's Gilmore's own experience with the process (and there are suggestions it does) this is a rare glimpse into the darker side of adoption, of what comes before the happy ending, and then is forgotten. show less

I grabbed this book primarily because it was set in 1979/1980 during the cold war and some of my teenage years. I thought it would be interesting to look back through the long lens of time and see what what I think. This book, based on reviews, is either one you love or one you hate. There doesn't seem to be any middle ground. I liked this book a lot. I thought the subject matter was interesting, I thought the story was pretty good and I thought the twist at the end was good, although a show more little convoluted.

The story is set in Washington D.C. during the Carter administration. The hostage crisis is on, the energy crisis is on, the Olympic boycott is on and the farming crisis is precipitated by the wheat boycott. The Cold War is in full effect. Fear of communism and socialism is high as well as fear of nuclear war. During this same time period, the United States was only 5 years removed from Vietnam and two or three years removed from Watergate and Nixon's resignation so faith and belief and trust from the American people towards their government was low. The author tries to get all these broad strokes in while also setting the scene of discussion within the Jewish community. Not being Jewish, I can't say I am fully informed but the general idea was that the community was very divided in its opinions about communism, capitalism and socialism.

The father in the story, Dennis, is an American with Russian Jewish parents. He works as a mid level government boffin at the USDA. His primary concerns throughout the story are based around the boycott and how this affects his job. In addition, the USDA has suspended all trade with Moscow and Dennis is no longer traveling for work. He is preoccupied with the fact that he may lose his job and this was a valid concern at that time. His wife, Sharon, is a middle aged woman who has a catering business with a friend. She grew up in the comparative wealth of the 50's and she and Dennis were too old for the hippie movement of the 60's having started a family in the early 60's. For women like Sharon, this was a time when they were catching up with the women's liberation movement and personal growth movements. Sharon has done both and inn addition, she has had a brief affair. She has not found her “thing” yet and by the end of the book, she has only inched closer but there is personal growth.

The two children are Ben and Vanessa. Ben is a freshman at Brandeis University. He is emerging and we really only see him as freshman. It is simply a snapshot. We know that as a high schooler he was a jock and now he is trying on being a hippie. He is discouraged because he knows he missed the heyday of protest movements. In fact, he has a professor who spends the year extolling the virtues of the yppies from Brandeis and how they changed the world while at the same time, disparaging the incoming freshman. He constantly reminds them that they missed the bus and that their concerns are somehow 'less than.” The children of Aquarius have been very unforgiving to the generation that followed them. It was difficult to be a part of the post Boomer world.

Vanessa is a high school junior. She is trying on punk and has an eating disorder. Her character more than any other is the least clearly defined. She is going through what all teenagers of the time go through – sex, drugs, music, fashion and where they fir in the family structure as well as societies structure. She resents her parents but loves them. She resents her brother for leaving her with their parents but those changes are inevitable. Life was very unsure for many during those years. Reagan and the new prosperity hadn't yet happened and the country was depressed as well as the people in it.

The story is told from the point of view of these four. I have seen criticism saying that it was confusing but I had no trouble following it. This isn't a fast paced, thrill a minute novel. It is slow and lumbering like a Russian Bear. It is very reflective of the time and it may be hard for those born in the late 1980's and beyond to relate at all to this period. We have only started looking at the early to late 60's in cultural studies now. This is still a relatively untapped historical period. There is a good twist at the end which was worth the wait. I recommend this book and can say that I enjoyed it. show less

Review courtesy of Dark Faerie Tales

Quick & Dirty: A colon disorder, teenage romance and many lessons.

Opening Sentence: It’s a single moment: It’s on the archery field on the third-to-last day of my first year as a CIT-counselor in training.

The Review:

The story begins with a normal, healthy Lizzie whose life turns upside down in an instant. In the blink of an eye she’s in the hospital being poked and prodded to find out what unknown illness she’s suffering from. At first I thought, show more ‘here’s another teenage cancer story’ but turns out that Lizzie doesn’t have cancer but her colon is diseased (a very long titled illness that I cannot remember) and if it’s not removed it could explode inside her and all the toxins could kill her! What a picture that paints?!! It’s probably one of the most embarrassing illnesses for a teenage girl, having a bag attached to you so that every time you need to ‘go’ you end up using a kind of mobile bed pan, for all to see.

But how do you know? Who’s to say? What makes anyone connect, click click, and what makes that connection stick?

Lizzie’s character was written beautifully. She’s mortified by what’s happened to her and begins with a lot of self pity. She’s not pretending to be thankful she’s not dead or seeing a new light in the world, it’s just so real. Her emotions were clearly explained but I enjoyed her bluntness because without meaning to Lizzie could be quite funny in her sarcastic sort of way. Lizzie feels isolated from friends and family because clearly no one has gone through the same sort of ordeal and she feels like she can’t be normal or loved ever again, slowly pushing everyone away. Until Connor arrives.

I want to believe Connor with every cell of me. That he could want me, now, later. But buried deep is also this: why is it always the girl waiting for the boy to tell her she’s beautiful? Connor is lovely everywhere. I imagine even his blood is sun-kissed and windblown. And it seems like he might need to know that too.
But I don’t say it. Because that’s how it is: the girl waiting for the boy to tell her.

Connor is this sweet golden boy who visits the hospital patients with his dog and appears to be the perfect kind of guy that will help Lizzie because he sees more to her than her sickness. Soon we realise that Connor has his own demons and although he doesn’t have scars to show for them, his wounds might be harder to heal.

You think the worst is behind you, but it’s never behind you. In fact, saying something is the worst does not leave room for all the bad stuff that can follow it.

I enjoyed this story for a lot of reasons: it centred around an unusual illness, emphasised how important it is to never give up but most importantly it highlighted that everyone has their own battles to fight. It’s not always the person in the hospital suffering the most. Some people hurt quietly. Lizzie’s character develops as the story progresses from a giggly teenager swooning over the cute guy at school, to this mature young lady who is beginning to take control of her life.

“Is this you being vulnerable?”
I have to laugh. “No. It’s all just coming out angry. That’s what I’m saying. I’m tired of that. It takes a lot of energy to be pissed off all the time.”

We Were Never Here leaves a bittersweet taste. It’s not a sad ending per se but it’s not a Disney fairytale ending either, which is fitting because it makes it more real. A story about two teenagers helping each other in more ways than they ever realise. I haven’t mentioned much about the romance but I’m hoping you will read and find out for yourself :)

Notable Scene:

I think of a cheesy television movie, the one with the determined patient who gets out of bed and struggles for life, and despite the odds, and due to all that strength, he wins. But can I just say about strength? It’s only an expression. You either become healthy again or you don’t. Just because a person is sick and isn’t dead yet, it doesn’t mean she’s strong. I don’t feel strong. In fact I’d be happy-if that’s what you want to call it-to just give up and lie here. I am the opposite of strong.

FTC Advisory: HarperTeen provided me with a copy We Were Never Here. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review. show less

Firstly, and as usual, I received this book for free in a GoodReads giveaway. Despite this kind consideration from author and publisher, I will proceed to be honest about it below.

The summary is simple. Our protagonists are childless and infertile, nearing the landmark age of 40, and looking to adopt a child. This book takes the reader through the agonizing process they undertake from beginning to end as they seek to (+1) their family. If you are, or have ever been, involved with domestic show more adoption then it will come as no surprise that this book will be an automatic 5-star for you. It illuminates the process in a uniquely real and honest way.

Beyond the thematic, I found the author's rendering of the story wonderfully sincere. I haven't bothered to look it up but it has a very autobiographical feel to it. If you told me that these were her own experiences put to paper I'd have no difficulty believing it. Gilmore is an accomplished writer and she puts on display for us the good-bad-and-ugly of the adoption process. I would characterize myself as not only entertained by this novel but also educated, though perhaps slightly more cynical for the effort.

On the not-entirely-positive side of this novel, as a male of the species and not even remotely considering adoption, this one left me a bit flat. It's obviously because I'm NOT the target demographic but I can see clearly the appeal this would have to the right subset of the population. For the last half of the novel I could feel one of two endings coming and as the interactions grew darker I saw real potential for making a significant statement about society. The ending was not the one I would have chosen but I can see the value of it. To say more would invite "spoilage" so I will simply leave it at that.

In summary, a wonderfully executed novel but with a specific target audience. Gilmore is dripping with sincerity and, to use a stale metaphor, she leaves it all on the field and arrives exhaustedly at her destination with no punches pulled (to use an even more stale but still sports-related metaphor). To all those who are or would be mothers, I say to go forth and read. To the rest of you... maybe buy a copy as a gift. You have a mother, after all, don't you?

PS: It is my endeavor to provide reviews that are succinct, honest, balanced and above all help the potential reader to answer the simple question, "Do I want to read this or not?" Any feedback you can provide about how you feel I have accomplished those goals (or not) is immensely appreciated. show less