I can hear you now “Naomi this book is not about health and wellness.” Yeah! I KNOW! But here’s the thing, reading fiction teaches us empathy, so books that portray certain subjects are just as helpful to read.

Enter: The Wedding People by Alison Espach.

Before we continue any further, this book does warrant some trigger warnings. This book contains portrayal of attempted suicide and suicidal ideation. If you choose to read this book, please make the decision that’s right for you.

Second set of warnings, I will be discussing what happens in the first 100 pages of this book, that’s not spoilers for me, but it might be for you.

This picture is your final warning!

Our story begins when Phoebe arrives at the Cornwall Inn in Newport Rhode Island. We are immediately thrust into chaos. We learn that Phoebe is on her own, in her best emerald green dress, a surprising lack of baggage, and her purse. What’s in her purse? Normal things: her phone, her discman, an old jazz CD, a pack of cigarettes, and her cat’s pain meds.

When she enters the lobby she is met by a long line of people waiting to check in. Everyone is chatting kindly to each other, like they’re all in on something Phoebe is not. Turns out, there’s a wedding at this hotel this week. She meets the bride, who is bright and cheery, warm in a way that gives the feeling of knowing. But they don’t know each other at all. Turns out, the bride booked the entire hotel for her wedding, and Phoebe is some kind of a wedding crasher. Phoebe decides that because she is a nobody in this instance, she gets to say whatever she wants, even if it’s the hard honest truth. She tells the bride that she is there to k*ll herself.

Her reasoning? She wouldn’t really be missed anyway. Turns out the lack of physical baggage is made up for with a metric tonne of psychological baggage. Included is: the grief of years of infertility despite treatments, growing further and further away from her husband, divorcing her husband, a difficult upbringing, being unfulfilled in her work, and never feeling rooted as a person.

The thing that really speaks to me (and could to a lot of my patients) is her infertility story. The monotony of cycles, scheduled sex, disappointing news day after day, and even miscarriage. What a seemingly infinite period of trying to conceive does to a relationship.

The story bounces between the present and past, often without any transition other than a page break. This, to me, weaves a heartbreakingly beautiful web of regular life when you’re trying to conceive and not succeeding – go to work, document where you are in your cycle, have an inconsequential discussion with your boss while the horrific thing your doctor told you plays on repeat in the back of your head.

I don’t think this book works for every person dealing with infertility. It’s pretty intense in ways that may not be helpful to people who are fresh in their journey. But it does a really good job of normalizing what living with infertility looks like. Phoebe’s inner monologue gives you a look into how people often are feeling when they’re doing injections, or getting their bloodwork done for the thousandth time, and life is still somehow carrying on.

If you are someone going through the struggles of infertility, this may be a good book for you. It’s not the entire story, but it’s definitely a large piece of who Phoebe is. If you love someone who is going through infertility, this can give you a picture into the head of someone going through it. Besides that, it’s just a fun book that feels like a beach read with some heavier themes (truly I was kicking my feet and giggling at multiple points).

What are some books that you have seen your physical struggles in? Which ones really felt relatable?

-Naomi