Some of you might wonder why I feel the need to share with the world my sex life and attempts to conceive a child. It's not the sort of thing my family brought me up to talk about at the dinner table. But funnily enough, it seems to be a topic of conversation whenever my husband and I are guests, be it a BBQ, dinner party or other social occasion.
I made a decision early in our sub-fertility journey to be completely open and above board about what we were going through. Sure, everyone knows someone who has gone through IVF, but I would put a dinner at Assiette (my new favourite restaurant) on it that they didn't know until there was a babe in arms that the couple in question had fertility issues.
Just a couple of weeks ago Essential Baby featured a newsreader - Deborah Knight - on her second successful IVF pregnancy. And everyone knows about Jessica Rowe's IVF attempts before conceiving her first daughter, then a "miracle" natural pregnancy for the second (and just as an aside, why is it always newsreaders?).
The point of writing for Essential Baby is for me to talk about sub-fertility and assisted conception as it happens. I don't know whether there will be a positive outcome at the end of this process and even if it continues to be a disappointment, I want other women to know they are not alone. I hope by putting my face and name to the issue, it could help others understand what the infertile/sub-fertile are going through.
In fact the only woman in the public eye that I can recall who has "come out" about her failed IVF attempts is the television personality Johanna Griggs. I feel so sorry for her, but she does have two children from her previous marriage. I feel more empathy with her husband to be perfectly honest.
I want people to understand the huge impact it has on personal relationships, professional life, friendships and even something as simple as doing the shopping.
We are confronted everyday, through advertising, television shows, pricing for things such as medical insurance, travel - everything is geared towards the family. Every day I am confronted with my inability to have children.
I want to make my mother a grandmother. I don't want her to have to keep buying and making clothes for her friends' grandchildren because she has none of her own. I want my husband, who is like the Pied Piper, to have the joy of parenting his own child. I want to make my sister an Aunt. I want a Bugaboo, to waste money on inappropriate Collette Dinnigan children's clothing and to finally be able to step inside Fragile for real. I want the spare room - currently masquerading as "the gym slash office" - to be "the nursery". I want to be able to walk through the kids' department without feeling like it's a jinx, and I really, REALLY want to use the baby names I have been saving since I was 16, to which, my husband miraculously agrees.
We just want a family.
And I want everyone to know that getting pregnant isn't as easy as they think. I was out with a work contact the other day and he told me he was "three days away from jizzing in a cup" but luckily it never came to that. Everyone is has their own story, their own advice, and their own idea of what my husband and I should be doing.
We are about to get back on the bus after two failed Intrauterine Inseminations, two failed IVFs and two failed frozen embryo transfers. We have three stored frozen embryos at the blastocyst stage, which is good news, but to be honest, I can't ever imagine being pregnant. It's such a foreign concept. When I was pregnant for a couple of days in December, I knew straight away. I felt so different, and I knew there was something in there, so now all we have to do is get it to stick.
Comment on Prue's journey over at her Essential Baby blog.
I thought that all it took was a bottle of shiraz, a Dolce & Gabanna balconette bra and matching knickers and hey presto, nine months later, a bouncing baby boy or girl would emerge from my nether regions.