I am not myself these days

I’m procrastinating today, which is often the case when I write. I’m avoiding uni work, ignoring my looming deadline to complete my ethics application and research proposal. The fact is my research topic bores me. I mean, I can see the merit in it, but it’s less interesting to me than drinking coffee in the... Continue Reading →

The elephant that came too soon

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, the one who came too soon and, get down on the record once and for all, that premature ejaculation is never the woman’s fault. Sure, our feminine wiles and bodily charms might contribute to you blowing your load before I’ve had the chance to part my legs.... Continue Reading →

Hope is a dirty, not a mother, fucker

The problem with people, is that we hold on to hope when there is none. Hope is so much a part of our psyche, that to give it up entirely would be to give up on humanity. That is to say, to give up on hope, we need to be dead. But having hope when... Continue Reading →

Mountain of my making: Journey to Everest Base Camp

After the disappointment I experienced climbing Mt Kilimanjaro (see Climbing a mountain to nowhere), I threw myself into baby-making. We’d been trying for coming on two years without telling anyone bar my bestie. Kilimanjaro had been a good distraction for me, scheduling in training hikes and trawling the gear and equipment stores for those must-have... Continue Reading →

When you’re infertile and dating, when do you talk about kids?

Today I went shopping for clothes I don’t need for a “divorce” cruise I’m heading off on this Friday. It’s not actually a divorce cruise but the timing of the end of my marriage just happened to coincide with a trip my friend and her husband were going on and I was talked into it... Continue Reading →

My name is AndrewNotChris – Part I

July 2017 I had been off work for two weeks before I could get an appointment with a psychologist. I had been seeing a psych regularly after my infertility diagnosis in 2014. Wendy and I would meet fortnightly or sometimes weekly, depending on how low my mood was. I was taking anti-depressants but it helped... Continue Reading →

Infertility leaves no physical scars

My mum had always told us kids that if we ever got a tattoo she would disown us. It was a serious threat that none of us had taken lightly. It had been a year since my diagnosis of immature egg syndrome. A year since I had stopped really caring what anyone thought, including my... Continue Reading →

I get by with a lot of help from my friends

I truly have the most beautiful friends. They make me cry and they make me laugh. They make me eat when I don't want to, yelling if they have to, and they try to put my nose ring back in when it falls out even when it's gross. They listen to me rant and rave... Continue Reading →

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