Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.

— Winston Churchill

Please Stop

Please stop discussing the mother in California who gave birth to octuplets as if her particular decisions and situations are representative of the majority of people who seek medical help for infertility.

Wondering on Wednesday…A Right to Know Our Biology?

I was watching a TV show last week and part of the story line dealt with a 15-year-old boy who was conceived using anonymous, donated sperm. The story asked the question of whether or not he had a right to learn the identity of his biological father. The sperm bank refused to acknowledge the donor’s [...]

Remembering to Breath

Have you ever had a difficult time maintaining your sanity? Was there a period in your life when perhaps crazy seemed like a better proposition than your current state of normal.
I had a time like that. It was the five years I spent trying to become a mother. I remember one night specifically when my [...]

Why Attack Instead of Seek to Understand: The Drama of Infertility

Can someone please explain this to me? Are we developing into a society of heartless morons? Is it the majority or the minority that refuses to learn how to agree to disagree without going for the jugular? Does it feel better to purposefully hurt someone than it does to try to understand?
Recently The New York [...]

Turn the Car Around. We’re Having a Baby

It’s time to go home. Dogs in their kennels, child in his seat, cooler packed and engine started. It was 5 a.m. and we were literally waving goodbye when my brother-in-law called. My sister was in labor and had been at the hospital through the night.
“Well,” I thought. “This could still take a long time. [...]

Baby Choices & My Internal Bitch

I was parked outside the nail salon hoping to tame my oh-so-embarrassing cuticles and chatting on the phone with my five-months-pregnant sister when I felt that familiar catch in my throat. I knew I had to hang up before I turned into a babbling mess of mascara.
She spent the day before registering for baby gifts [...]