The shadow child in the title refers to the stillborn baby Powning delivered when she was in her mid-20s, after an otherwise healthy full-term pregnancy. Never given a chance to hold her first child or say goodbye, she is haunted by his memory for years, even as she does her best to forget that he ever existed.

But there is another shadow lurking in this beautifully written and powerful memoir, and that’s Powning’s insecurity. The questions that have plagued her much of her adult life – is she really a writer even if she hasn’t published a book? Should she be a mother or should she have a career? Can she do both? – are rooted in her childhood.

Shadow Child is the story of how Powning comes to peace with both shadows. In the hands of a lesser writer, it could have turned into a book-length wallow in self-pity. But Powning is a gifted observer who uses her insight to make a highly personal and often painful story both accessible and engrossing.

Though she begins the book with her childhood, the story really picks up when she and her husband, a potter, leave their home in Connecticut and immigrate to Canada. It’s 1972, the height of the Vietnam War. They’d like to go to Peace River, Alberta, but their car won’t make it that far. Instead, they settle on a farm in New Brunswick, where they forge careers as artists and live off the land as much as possible.

Their friends are all starting to have families, but Powning is ambivalent, even after becoming pregnant. After the baby is stillborn, she can’t help wonder if her feelings contributed to his death. Even after having a second son, two years later, the guilt, mostly unacknowledged, festers.

Without being pedantic, Shadow Child serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of being too hard on ourselves, and the repercussions of closing ourselves off from our feelings. Occasionally, Powning strains to make a point, rendering an observation hollow. But anyone who has suffered an unexpected loss or withering self-doubt will identify with her struggle, and come away wiser and enlightened from having had the opportunity to spend some time with her.