Although “miracle baby” stories can be a land mine, this one looks good:
Dratch’s book is definitely funny, but it is her courage to speak openly about her struggle with dating, romance and the Holy Grail of feminine culture — motherhood — that makes this work as unconventional as her path to both television stardom and maternity.
…Dratch’s foray into dating and relationships is refreshingly relatable. In an all-too-familiar scenario, what begins as a potentially promising romance sputters out in a series of missed connections and poor behaviors otherwise known as red flags. These are the kinds of markers all women carry with them as proof of having survived the dating battlefield. You know the type: drinking too much, failing to call or text or ruminating over what it would be like to eat horse or human meat. In her search for a tolerable, non-horrifying, regular meat-eating boyfriend, Dratch is every woman. And we love her for wearing that mantle proudly so that our collective romantic humiliations remain in good company. She writes with self-deprecation that is neither needy nor parodic, but simply authentic.
But you used the withdrawal method during sex! Even prosties don’t use that! I thought I was over the hill. I would not have relied on that. I had so many friends trying to have kids and going through fertility and all this stuff, so I let go of the idea that I could have kids for my own sanity.