hello

why did the reproductive endocrinologist cross the road?
because there was an affluent, infertile woman in her early 30’s on the other side.

well, i thought it would be easy to get knocked up. i really did. i ovulated monthly (and still do), i was physically fit. mentally stable. high emotional iq. pretty good at several things. interior design. baking. reading. papercraft. knitting. gardening. yoga. kayaking. hiking. traveling, primary care pediatrics. i can tell you obscure facts about disease in infants. i’ve got a lovely house. lovely friends. gregg is the love of my life, hands down. i feel secure. i’ve worked out all the childhood stuff, mostly.

3 years ago, i was feeling ready to try my hand at parenting. i was ready and willing to grow a small human inside my very own body, name it and make it wear very neat little human clothes, some of which i might make myself. incredibly, gregg agreed to this idea. afterall, our exam rooms at the medical clinic where we work were (and still are) daily jam-packed with all manner of moron with varying definitions of good hygiene just having babies constantly. how hard could it be?

well, as it turns out, there’s one thing that the smelly people in my town can do that i cannot do: make and have babies. i can dress myself. they can have babies. i know what asparagus is. they can have babies. i’ve been outside of the state of florida. they can have babies.

after spending a few grand to figure it out, we’ve come to the conclusion that we can’t get pregnant without a team of doctors and a load of cash.  my fallopian tubes are too muscular and skinny to allow egg and sperm to meet let alone a ball of cells to survive the journey back to the uterus. to my uterus. so ivf it is. 

welcome to my blog. i have a few things to say about a few things relating to my fertility past, present and future. i hope it's not boring.

i have decided which of my pairs of socks will be my lucky fertility socks and here they are: