Marrit Ingman writes with candor about her experience with postpartum depression. She curses and shares disturbing fantasies about suicide. Her heart is as open as can be in this book, making it both shocking and sweet. She does not offer a plan to recover from PPD, and she doesn’t give you methods to regain your mental health. What she does is share the darkest parts of motherhood with the world, so that mothers like her can feel at peace knowing they are not alone.

As you are led through Ingman’s frustrations with attempting to pinpoint allergies and treat eczema, you become intimate with a life that many moms might never know. She gives no answers, only pain and frustration with a quick wit and a dirty mouth. Towards the end, however, it is a different story. This book will give you strength, help you to shake the feeling that you are being judged for this or that (as most mothers feel) and it will help you to stop judging other moms. You’ll feel comradery with each and every mother out there, no matter what their style or situation. This book is for the desperate, the lonely and the frustrated. It fills a void in parenting books that direly needed to be filled. There are no pink flowers and rainbows here, just the cold truth about the difficulties raising a child. Pick up a copy here.