Tessa Broad’s Dear You: A Letter to my Unborn Children
Featured in The Daily Mail, Bella Magazine and FemaleFirst.co.uk
Tessa Broad wanted children. At least two, possibly three but her body simply wasn’t playing ball. She embarked on the relentless treadmill of infertility treatment but to no avail. Tessa remained childless.
In this candid and moving memoir, Tessa writes to the children she never had. She writes to them as their adult selves with humour and honesty about her quest to have them, of the childhood she envisaged for them and the mother she believed she could be. Tessa shares what she lost and gained along the way and tells how she grew from a woebegone, wannabe mummy, to the woman she is now; childless but chilled, sailing through Mother’s Day with a smile on her face.
Despite this, we live in a world where women are still often defined by their fertility, and Tessa can still struggle to answer the simple question ‘Do you have children?’. The highs and lows, tears and laughter she describes in Dear You will give comfort and hope to anyone touched by infertility.
'Once I started Dear You, I didn’t want to put it down. I loved the authors writing style and how the words just seemed to flow beautifully.
This is a book I can really recommend to EVERYONE. If memoirs aren’t your thing, I URGE YOU to step outside of your comfort zone and read this one. You won’t regret it.
As the page turns
'For anyone who has ever whispered a lonely, sad farewell to that most poignant of lost dreams, a hoped for pregnancy, from behind a closed hospital or bathroom door, this will surely strike an orchestra of chords. However ‘Dear You’ is not what it might first appear, a one trick pony misery memoir of a childless lady. No, no, far from it, Tess generously offers much more than that label might imply. Her story includes the wise advice, soft and kindly meant hints and tips that she had hoped to pass on to the family she was unable to raise. All this is honestly, confidingly and humbly, happily too, often amusingly, presented, with Miranda Hart-like ironic, artlessly revealing, self-deprecating asides, set in brackets. Tess is great company here, she is definitely a ‘radiator’ not a ‘drain’.
Katharine Kirby TOP 500 Amazon Reviewer
'I’ve laughed, I’ve cried and I’ve witnessed via this superb memoir the trials and tribulations of a process that in all honesty should be such a natural given, but, is in reality such a heartbreaking time for some.
Tessa Broad is such a great author. Staying true to herself, I felt as though I was a friend and we were sitting chatting over lunch or a few cocktails in a bar.
From Dear You, I felt that all the difficult, dark times endured have been turned into great learning tools leaving a lasting message that from a negative, a positive is always just a step away
'Letters to my unborn children was a roller coaster of a read for me, but I absolutely loved it. This is a beautifully written joy of a read. I would recommend to anyone
If in Doubt Read
'I can't recommend this beautifully tragic memoir enough. Since the moment I picked it up, it gripped me in every way possible - fear, laughter and tears. In an open letter to her unborn children, Tessa Broad takes her readers on a journey of self-realisation and resilience. This book needs to be read because It addresses so many taboo topics that are often left untouched when it comes to infertility. Whether you've found yourself on this uncertain journey or not, Tessa Broad's journey to acceptance is one that cannot and should not be silenced or ignored. This beautiful memoir left me feeling raw and so so grateful for the life I lead.
Ashleigh Webb Goodreads
'This book has been described as offering a “shoulder to lean on for everyone experiencing the uncertainties and pain of infertility”, but it isn’t only for women who are trying for children. I believe women and men, those with children, who are childless, or those who are happily child free will connect with Dear You.
Love books group blog Guest Review By Kimberly Livingston
'The medium of memoir is perhaps all the more poignant for writers who have been unable to have children: It can serve as an opportunity to bequeath the reader, rather than an heir, with stories, anecdotes and valuable insights which might otherwise remain untold. Tessa Broad has written one such memoir framed as a letter to her unborn children. Drawing from her life experiences and world-view, it charts her struggles with infertility and relationship breakdown as well as bestowing nuggets of advice on her imaginary offspring. She deftly challenges society’s assumptions around (non-)motherhood, and our capacity for care and love whether or not we have children.