British cartoonist Becky Barnicoat's first graphic memoir, Cry When the Baby Cries, presents quite the lachrymose cover, but readers will likely be nod-laughing as often as sharing tears. The single-page preface perfectly encapsulates what's to come: Barnicoat lies in bed as a nurse puts her crying newborn into her arms, with a reassuring, "It comes with an instruction manual, translation app, carry pouch, and 24/7 expert help and guidance." As she exits the room, the nurse adds, "LOL. Just kidding. Bye," leaving Barnicoat in shocked anguish.
For Barnicoat, motherhood--including pregnancy, labor, the first years of baby mayhem, only to do it all over again!--was nothing like the mother/child images promised in books and social media. "My baby wouldn't follow the instructions," she admits. "My babies didn't have any interest in routines, schedules, programs, milestones, or plans in general." In learning to nurture these "writhing little creatures of feelings and gas," Barnicoat had to immediately adapt to their relentless demands while chronically sleep deprived: "This book is my memory of that animal time. I hope it will relieve any shame you might feel for your tears, anger, boredom, unexpected body-fluid emissions.... It's as nature intended."
Barnicoat's emotive black-and-white pen-and-ink drawings brilliantly maintain a remarkable blend of aspiration, humor, and biting (literally) reality. Diagrams, flow charts, lists, and annotated body parts throughout could be attempts to rein in some of the tumult. Careful hand-lettered text enhances most pages, but so, too, do outbursts magnified in oversize fonts with occasional expletives. Barnicoat's honesty is brutal but so necessary. Her empathy is an undeniable, priceless gift to all mothers. --Terry Hong