Book Club: A review of Matrescence by Lucy Jones

By Dr Natalie Hutchins

Cultural narratives often present motherhood as a switch that flips overnight: one day a woman is herself, the next she is expected to embody a fully formed ‘mother’- instinctive, serene and all-knowing. Pregnancy is a glowing montage of joy and anticipation; birth is empowering and cinematic; the baby emerges dewy and cherubic; and the mother is instantly flooded with pure, unwavering love.

But this myth does women a profound disservice.

The reality, as countless mothers discover, is far more complex. Pregnancy can absolutely brim with hope and excitement, but it can also be a time of fear, uncertainty, ambivalence and even regret, often all held within the same moments. Birth, too, can be a messy cascade of emotions that ricochet from terror to transcendence, layered on top of the physical labour of a body pushed to its very limits. And while some women do feel that immediate oxytocin-soaked rush of love, just as many feel relief, exhaustion, anxiety, numbness or, increasingly and sadly, trauma as maternity systems strain at the seams.

As a women’s health doctor, I meet so many women who quietly carry the weight of this mismatch between cultural expectation and lived experience. That gap can seed shame, inadequacy and, for some, the beginnings or worsening of postpartum mood disorders. It is rare to find a book that articulates the reality of becoming a mother with such honesty, nuance and compassion but Lucy Jones does exactly this in Matrescence.

One of the book’s greatest strengths is its reframing of motherhood not as an overnight identity shift but as a profound developmental transition. Matrescence, Jones reminds us, is a process of becoming: a slow shedding and regrowth of the self, where the old and new coexist, intertwine, and ultimately transform one another. Drawing on neuroscience, anthropology and her own experience, she illuminates what so many women are never told; that the brain itself is rewired in pregnancy and early motherhood, pruning old pathways and strengthening new ones to support attunement, vigilance and caregiving. The changes that occur in the brain are as significant as adolescence or menopause.

If more women understood this, I believe many would offer themselves far more grace. Of course you may not feel like yourself; that old self has been neurologically reshaped in the last 9 months. Of course you feel more anxious; your brain is literally adapting to monitor threat and protect your baby. Of course your emotions feel enormous, contradictory, overwhelming; you have undergone one of the greatest physical, psychological and relational shifts a human can experience.

Jones writes with clarity and compassion, striking a balance between honesty and gentleness that feels deeply affirming. She names what so often goes unnamed; the loneliness, the ruptures, the renegotiation of identity, and in doing so offers readers  permission to feel what they feel, to question the narratives they’ve inherited, and to understand their transformation as biological, psychological and deeply personal.

For anyone considering pregnancy, and for those already on the path, this book deserves a place alongside the fertility guides, baby manuals and parenting books that dominate the shelves. Matrescence prepares women for a different kind of knowledge; one that might soften the shock, expand the conversation, and allow mothers to meet themselves with deeper compassion during one of life’s most profound transitions.