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 →

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 →

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 →

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 →

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 →

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 →

How do you prepare for the unknown?

IVF was nothing like I expected. I mean it was, but it wasn’t. I was prepared for uncontrollable mood swings, stress and injections. What I wasn’t prepared for, couldn’t have prepared for, was how much I wanted to apportion blame. When we started our IVF cycle, all our test results pointed to it being a... Continue Reading →

It’s not my fault …

Extract from an email to an old friend dated 2 June 2014, three days before my diagnosis of immature egg syndrome: Hi D, Been awhile. I'm having a crazy nostalgic reach out to my past and share things with people who were so influential in shaping my life kinda day. How are you? I don’t... Continue Reading →

Rock-a-bye bedsheets and other stupid feelings

An extract from my diary dated 29 November 2009: As always it has been far too long between entries. When I look back to my last entry, I think about all the things that have happened since. Far too much to ever get down properly. Last time I wrote, S had told me he loved... Continue Reading →

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes … infertility?

My story began in January 2014. It was the night of my 30th birthday party when I finally broke down and told my mother that my husband and I had been trying to conceive for almost two years. I had just learned that the sister of a friend was pregnant for the third time. It... Continue Reading →

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