Birth Story

Fine artist and graphic novelist Belliveau (One Year in America) blends evocative ink wash illustrations and poetic text into a harrowing account of her traumatic childbirth experience and its emotional aftermath. When Belliveau gets pregnant during the Covid lockdown, at first things go well. Observing the fetus on ultrasound, she reflects wryly that it looks “like a piece of melted cheese but with my nose.” But when her birth is induced, it proceeds too fast, her birth plan is ignored, and she suffers extensive tearing. Her baby emerges “one big purple bruise.” Afterward, suffering from postpartum depression and continued physical pain, she becomes emotionally numb, resenting the treatment of her body as a milking machine and ruminating, “I am invisible, but also in the way.” She slowly resurfaces by reconnecting with art, both by commiserating with fellow mother-artists and through depictions in literature and painting of childbirth—she takes inspiration from the “bored Madonnas” she views on a trip to Italy. Belliveau’s delicate, observant black-and-white drawings capture striking impressions—labor pains appear as a screaming reptile—and small details like bottles of breast milk, piles of prescription drugs, and goldfish crackers. She also draws angelically beautiful babies. This honest and lyrical account of discovering “how strong and weak bodies could be” stands out from the crowd of feel-good pregnancy stories. It’s a valuable, affirming counternarrative for parents with similar experiences. (Apr.)