Happy Not A Father’s Day

The moment I realised how terribly my infertility was affecting my ex-husband was on Father’s Day in 2015. He posted this picture on Facebook which at first glance appears to be a celebration of not being a dad. It’s a reference to an episode of How I Met Your Mother in which Barney celebrates a... Continue Reading →

How not to talk to a childless woman

It was six years this month since I found out I would never conceive using my own eggs. Six years since I fell into a deep depression, had weeks off work, starting drinking at 9.30am and cried every day. Next month, it will be six years since I started seeing a psychologist regularly to work... Continue Reading →

Growing older not wiser

I feel old. It’s ridiculous to say at 35 but I feel my life passing me by and I don’t feel in control of it. I got an MRI today on a bung knee. I have no idea what I did to it originally, way back when I first noticed it in 2017, but it’s... Continue Reading →

The subtle art of knowing everything is fucked

I usually leave book reviews for my book club meetings but I’m going to make an exception for Mark Manson’s follow up to The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck, aptly titled Everything is Fucked. I’m about two-thirds through but something I read has cut to my core and I can’t seem to get... Continue Reading →

A diagnosis for dating failure

My doctor told me I need to stop giving parts of myself away to people. I thought that was a pretty insightful observation from a man who was checking out my tonsils for infection. The appointment had been made several weeks earlier for a time after work, but as it turned out, I came down... Continue Reading →

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 →

O beware, my fuck buddy, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster

9 February 2018 jealous /dʒɛləs/ adjective: jealous; feeling or showing an envious resentment of someone or their achievements, possessions, or perceived advantages. feeling or showing a resentful suspicion that one's partner is attracted to or involved with someone else fiercely protective of one's rights or possessions. noun: jealousy; the state or feeling of being jealous. I don’t... 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 →

My marriage no longer exists

Readers may have noticed that many of my stories are set in the past, and infrequently, when something is particularly significant to me, I write about the present. Today, 23 January 2018, my divorce was finalised in court. It’s been a long process, as those who have been through it know, that started when we... Continue Reading →

My name is ChrisNotChris – Part IV

July 2017 They say karma is a bitch but on this occasion, she was my friend and ally. The morning after Terrible Tuesday, I rang in sick to work. I couldn’t yet face what Chris has told me and sleep beckoned me like a Turkish rug dealer. I messaged my best friend J to tell... Continue Reading →

There’s no friendship in divorce

I’ve had my heart broken before. Been left by my fiancé for a girl he met at the gym. Been in love with guys who haven’t loved me back. But the day I told my husband I wanted a divorce, I broke my own. Not because we weren’t in love. Not because he had done... Continue Reading →

My greatest teenage fear became my greatest adult grief

As a teenager, the fear of pregnancy was engrained. For all my girlfriends growing up, it was one of our greatest fears and a late period was the cause of plenty of angst. No one wanted a pregnancy at such a young age. It was unfathomable to imagine ourselves as mothers. Several months after the... Continue Reading →

You only get one first time

To understand my journey following my diagnosis of infertility, I think it’s important to reflect on where I’ve come from. I kept diaries for a significant period of my life, starting when I was 10. Diaries, for the record, are great ways to recall how ridiculously self-absorbed, dramatic and immature we once were. I’ve found... Continue Reading →

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