There is no way to adequately describe this book, so instead I'll quote the first paragraph:

Rita is lying in bed one night when she realizes she's lost her uterus. She does not remember it falling out of her, like change out of an overstuffed wallet. Her ambivalent feelings about having children, she thinks, may have caused the womb to shrink away and fall out of her like a kind of discharge, an escape from lack of use. Her stomach constricts with the empty feeling of fruitlessness, a dry rot inside her that she has felt since coming home from the shopping mall. It was at the mall, she believes, that her womb fell out and was lost in the crowd, in a mob of women with baby strollers, their feet stomping over her last shot at motherhood (p. 1).