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In the few short months since Harrie wrote this piece, there is a lovely new update. If you'd like to hear where she is now, listen to Little Love Stories for the next chapter.
Before I start, this is not me looking for sympathy. My partner and I are not that far along in our own fertility journey. We haven't spent years or thousands of dollars trying to have a baby... yet *touches nearest wood*.
What I am trying to do is express my fury sparked from baby making at a very unexpected outlet: my girlfriends with babies.
Some background before I explain my anger: I'm mid thirties, have a lovely partner and live a healthy-ish lifestyle. I've stopped drinking and I've started taking the folic acid daily, tracking my ovulation, doing the gene testing and taking so many pregnancy or ovulation test, that to not pee on a stick is a real rarity.
I'm doing all of those things, but nothing. And it's been months of nothing.
And with this nothing, a teeny bit of resentment builds. Cue my rage.
But why am I so angry? Well, until we started this monthly escapade, I genuinely didn't know that you have the best chance of getting pregnant in just eight hours a month.
Eight hours?! Yup. I was shocked.
Following on from my revelation that you could simply sleep through your window each month, I did a little math and realised that there are 736 hours available in a month to stress about those precious eight. But hey, you get to do all of the wonderful things I listed previously. That's a hell of a lot of wees.