In this life there are two kinds of mothers. The first title goes to the woman who gives birth to her child. The latter goes to the woman who sacrifices her own happiness for the happiness of other people’s kids, happily and willingly. What is most special is when the two characteristics are combined. I can tell because I own one. I own one and I call her Mother. That was Mamid’s confession. And the confession of the other 8 children who became part of a family through the love of their parents. Two Mothers shares a story of love and affection, sexual journeys, scenes from married life, and a short narrative of death. It is written in an album-style. Each scene is presented one by one, not necessarily in a chronological order but always related to each other. It carries the readers in an emotional rollercoaster, evoking memories, and provoking our reasonings. Arswendo Atmowiloto noted down a little message for the prospective readers: “Those who felt that they were never born from a mother are strictly forbidden to read this book.”