Non-fiction

Maternity Rolls

Author Heather Kuttai

$18.95 (pb) 978-1-55266-342-4, 143 pp. Fernwood Publishing, May 2010

“I am an agent. It is hard work. But it’s good work.” From the epilogue of her autoethnography, Heather Kuttai encapsulates her motivation for writing Maternity Rolls. A mother of two children from Saskatchewan, who is also a paraplegic and wheelchair user, Kuttai shares her unique and intensely personal experience with pregnancy and childbirth. She put it into a broader social context to change perceptions and misinformation about disabilities, to improve accessibility and to recognize the realities of other women who are lacking resources or are seeking points of reference for their own experiences.
 
The title is a play on words that becomes more meaningful after every chapter as Kuttai explores her struggle from childhood to define her own identity as a woman in the face of general social devaluation of a disabled woman’s sexuality by many considered “abled”. Throughout, she demonstrates the lack of accessibility and lack of expectation from the medical profession, and people generally, about a disabled woman’s “role” as a sexual being and mother.
 
Despite impressive achievements as a Paralympic medalist in target shooting, from which Kuttai gained strength and confidence as a young woman, she struggled through her childhood and adolescence to find a sense of self and sexuality, finally feeling validated as a whole person/whole woman through her experience with pregnancy and childbirth. While some feminist literature rails against women who identify themselves strictly in relation to motherhood, Kuttai’s experience emphasizes how deeply personal and unique our identities are and how they are shaped. She aptly points out that “identity is an action”: what you do determines who you are, not other people’s perceptions of you.
 
The book is largely autobiography anchored by journal entries, punctuated with thesis research and theory on disability and gender issues. Many entries are fraught with justifiable anger and frustration, and occasionally she seems to project her own assumptions onto others; her self-consciousness may not always have been accurate reflection of other’s judgments. But these entries are balanced by Kuttai’s introspective analysis and distance from events.
 
The organization of the text is more thematic than chronological, which can be confusing at times. Headings and meaningful song lyrics structure the content, but overuse is disruptive and some transitions are abrupt. For its brave and intimate portrait of a relatively unexplored subject, and its challenge to readers to consider their attitudes about disability issues, this book is indeed a “good work.” —Kimberley Hicks