There is a library of literature on how to start IVF. There are pamphlets on how to mix the meds. There are forums on how to interpret a twitch in your left ovary. There are Instagram accounts dedicated to "manifesting" a heartbeat. There is almost nothing written on
Grief causes latency. When you are processing the failure of a biological function, or waiting for a pathology result, your system resources are diverted to basic survival. You are running on emergency power. This creates a vulnerability. The world will continue to send you high-bandwidth inputs: Intrusive questions. Unsolicited advice.
In the fertility clinic waiting room, there are two roles. There is The Patient, and there is The Plus-One. C. was The Patient. Her body was the site of the intervention. She navigated the transvaginal ultrasounds, the surgical retrievals, and the hormonal hijacking. I was The Plus-One. I held the
I am a fan of data. I like spreadsheets. I find comfort in the brutal honesty of a pathology report. When life feels chaotic, I retreat to numbers because numbers don’t offer platitudes. They don't tell you to "just relax." They just tell you the
If you mention infertility in public, you will summon The Experts. They appear from nowhere. They are Uber drivers. They are colleagues you barely know. They are distant relatives holding a plate of deviled eggs. And they all have The Answer. We call this game Infertility Bingo. The prize for
If you are a man entering the fertility system in Australia, you don't start in a clinical room. You start in a Mini Cooper. You start in Brisbane traffic, sitting right on the speed limit. The process is archaic. You visit a GP. They give you a referral.
Tragedy doesn't happen in a vacuum. It doesn't wait for a rainy day, or a minor key cello soundtrack, or for you to be wearing dignified clothing. It doesn't wait for you to be ready. In our experience, tragedy has a distinct preference for
Welcome to the glitch. If you follow the standard societal script, life has a specific rhythm. You grow up. You get a job. You partner up. You reproduce. You pass the baton. You join "The Club." But sometimes, the baton gets dropped. Or the baton was never there.