This is a gripping testament to marital and parental love to be enjoyed by any reader, and powerfully informative for any person considering a similar path to the one so courageously chosen by Belc.

In the crowded genre of memoir about mothering, Krys Malcolm Belc's debut, The Natural Mother of the Child, asks: What do we do with someone who is parenting the child they gave birth to, but is not a mother at all? Where do transgender and non-binary parents fit, especially in a world that is determined to force them into a box labeled 'mother?' ... [The Natural Mother of the Child] is the necessary and long overdue transmasculine account of carrying and birthing a child ... The book is not linear in structure, and skews literary and lyrical, told as a collection of fragmented essays. Belc seamlessly weaves in primary source documents with historical references ... The book switches between first and second person, which can sometimes be confusing for the reader. Belc writes from the trans perspective and it is clear that he is unconcerned with overexplaining his experience to a cisgender audience. His experience is far from universal, but nearly everyone can relate to the transformative experience of falling in love — with a person, with a child — and the ways that love can shape our identities.

Belc’s memoir troubles easy understandings of gender and parenthood. At the same time, the author’s particular journey demonstrates a universal truth: parturition brings not only a baby, but also transformed adults, into the world ... Belc’s wryly humorous book appeals to both heart and head, like spending an evening with a friend watching a documentary ... Belc’s uniquely trans experience of parenting will resonate with all kinds of parents; similarly, Belc’s complex feelings about his body will resonate with anyone who has ever felt critical toward or uncomfortable about their own ... Belc deepens and complicates the happily-ever-after tropes of 'life after baby' and 'life after transition.' In a beautiful meditation on the way the fetus leaves cells that stay in the mother’s body forever, Belc acknowledges positive change ... The Natural Mother of the Child offers, along with an ever-surprising, multiform structure, a lesson in courage and tenderness. Above all, it showcases the ability to live in and tolerate discomfort if it is the surest path to your desires.

When Krys Malcolm Belc sees pregnant women, he turns the other way. He doesn’t want to hear pregnancy stories and finds it difficult to share his own. But in The Natural Mother of the Child: A Memoir of Nonbinary Parenthood, the transmasculine author doesn’t turn away from his story. Instead, he lays it out page by page, with pictures and legal documents juxtaposing his poetic prose ... The Natural Mother of the Child refuses easy stories or pat answers. Instead, Belc tells a counterstory that resists hegemonic narratives and pushes toward something messier and truer. Belc’s devotion to his son—and especially his bodily devotion—comes through powerfully, a clear signal. By comparison, some of the other signs that supposedly tell us who we are—birth certificates, marriage certificates, adoption certificates—seem desperately incomplete.

Belc breaks from conventional memoir formulas into non-linear narratives, plural and second-person addresses, and forms that resemble lists, as if to show that memoirs, like families, do not have to be structured a certain way just because the establishment deems it so. The second-person addresses are at times written to Belc’s partner Anna, at times to his gestational child Samson, and at times to his own mother. Sometimes, it seems Belc is writing to himself, contemplating, for example, his unwanted breasts, those same organs he uses to nourish Samson ... At times, Belc’s braiding of research with personal narrative is reminiscent of Maggie Nelson’s The Argonauts ... As a transfeminine person who is also navigating the impact of my gender identity on my roles as partner and parent in the eyes of society, for me, The Natural Mother’s inviting reading experience was largely rooted in feeling seen… I could not put the book down. At the same time, I find myself highly recommending the book to anyone whose identity has not been in dramatic conflict with organized society in the ways Belc’s has. Belc’s memoir places issues that are “out of sight, out of mind” for most front and center, providing a snapshot of where we are as a society, and just how far we still have to go to achieve greater inclusivity for all.

Arranged in patchwork fashion (several essays were previously published), this intimate tapestry of a family includes numerous anecdotes about many of Belc’s formative moments and experiences ... Belc smoothly weaves in scientific and social research, even if the timeline isn’t always easy to follow. But such is life: abstract, nonlinear, unable to be forced into tidy compartments. At times, the use of third person is excessive, a literary garnish to a story that is already rich in content. Nonetheless, Belc develops a candid, gritty, tender story that should garner empathy and understanding regardless of a reader’s background. In this multilayered narrative, augmented with black-and-white photos, the author successfully holds readers’ attention all the way through the last poignant line. With vivid rawness, Belc paints an impressionist mural of what it means to be a parent while also birthing his true self.