In Vitro: On Longing and Transformation

A meditation on in vitro fertilization that expands and complicates the stories we tell about pregnancy.

Medical interventions become an exercise in patience, desire, and delirium in this intimate account of bodily transformation and disruption. In candid, graceful prose, Isabel Zapata gives voice to the strangeness and complexities of conception and motherhood that are rarely discussed publicly. Zapata frankly addresses the misogyny she experienced during fertility treatments, explores the force of grief in imagining possible futures, and confronts the societal expectations around maternity. In the tradition of Rivka Galchen’s Little Labors and Sarah Manguso’s Ongoingness, In Vitro draws from diary and essay forms to create a new kind of literary companion and open up space for nuanced conversations about pregnancy.

Publication date: May 9, 2023 

Format: Trade Paper

Dimensions: 5 x 7.5

Page count: 160 pages

ISBN: 9781566896757

Translated from the Spanish

Isabel Zapata is a Mexico City–born writer and editor. She is the author of the poetry book Una ballena es un país and the bilingual essay collection Alberca vacía / Empty Pool (trans. Robin Myers). Recent work has appeared in English translation in World Literature Today, Waxwing, The Common, andWords Without Borders. She is a cofounder and publisher at Ediciones Antílope. 

Robin Myers is a Mexico City–based poet and translator. Her translations include Copy by Dolores Dorantes (Wave Books), The Dream of Every Cell by Maricela Guerrero (Cardboard House Press), The Book of Explanations by Tedi López Mills (Deep Vellum Publishing), Cars on Fire by Mónica Ramón Ríos (Open Letter Books), and The Restless Dead by Cristina Rivera Garza (Vanderbilt University Press).

A Vulture Best Memoir of 2023

A TODAY Book We Can’t Wait to Read in 2023

"An insightful personal history but also a brilliant philosophical text about the very nature of sacrifice and autonomy."

—Arianna Rebolini, Vulture

“A feat of compression: slim, fragmentary, and generous with the white space, allowing ample breathing room to take in those painful parts. . . .It is as if we are reading over her pregnant shoulder as she attempts to navigate the change she’s brought about in her life.”

—Shayne Terry, Chicago Review of Books

“A stunning meditation on in vitro fertilization and all that the procedure and many other fertility treatments encompass—bodies, science, humanity, patience, grief, and so much more. The book feels like both an essay and a diary and each entry is crushingly intimate and honest. . . . I found myself enthralled by the brevity and intensity of the writing and the white space on each page that speaks to longing and possibility.”

—Pierce Alquist, Book Riot

A resolute account of a personal metamorphosis, In Vitro alchemizes tender experiences into enchanting vignettes.”

—Rebecca Foster, Foreword Reviews starred review 

“This lyrical meditation by Mexican poet Zapata reflects on the life-changing power of pregnancy and motherhood. . . . With poetic prose, sensitively translated by Myers, Zapata’s sometimes surprising perspective offers a fresh take on the pregnancy memoir. Elegant and sharp, this is worth seeking out.”

—Publishers Weekly

“In this essay-like collection, Zapata examines in vitro fertilization and the narratives that drive societal expectations and pressures in conception and pregnancy. Unveiling a nuanced view of motherhood and fertility treatment, In Vitro will illuminate aspects of pregnancy not often discussed.”

—Lupita Aquino, TODAY

“From its first sentences, I was riveted to In Vitro. Isabel Zapata has an effortlessly engaging style, at once casual and thrillingly deep. Her skill at playing with language, chronology, and genre will leave her readers feeling spellbound, affirmed, and, most of all, free. This is a profoundly liberatory book.”

—Emily Gould

“Isabel Zapata has created an elegant and brave poetics of the body. This is transformative literature that gives birth to a new language capable of expanding what it means to mother a child, or an idea, or a society.”

—Terry Tempest Williams