"HAVE YOU THOUGHT ABOUT DONOR EGGS?"

Out of the blue, BAM!, there it was. What a shocker. That was the question being asked by the Gynecologist through my open legs a year ago. (I know, not even a chance of decorum either!)

Er, no, I bloody haven't Doc because, you see, until you uttered these earth-shattering words I'd kinda been holding out hope that my eggs would be good enough to perform another miracle, given that I had one baby aged seven months and managed to easily conceive another only a couple of months ago. In fact, what the Hell are you talking about??! Donor Eggs. Jesus, I am so NOT ready for that!

And in that moment the enormity of what had become "My Fertility Situation" hit me full in the face...and heart.

That was one year ago and it's been one hell of a roller-coaster ride since then.

Mention the word "infertility" to anyone, male or female, and literally eyes cast down, feet start shuffling and mumbles of, "oh, I'm sure it'll happen soon", come too-readily forth. Yes, it's another of those terribly taboo subjects that - shhhh- no one really likes to talk about for fear of further upsetting the person affected, or worse, that it might actually happen to them one day. None if us ever know how to react in such circumstances, lest we have been, or are going through, the experience ourselves.

I have been labelled with "Secondary Infertility" which is perhaps even more puzzling. How can you get pregnant twice, deliver one healthy baby, have a miscarriage at 8 weeks and then suddenly N.A.D.A. No warning, no flickering battery light announcing a demise of power or function anytime soon, no flippin' instruction booklet on how to cope if this happens. Just so very, very odd - and immensely frustrating.

It is a terrible thing though infertility, and something that is commoner than you might think. A surf through the very informative "Conception" pages of the BabyCentre website, for example, will have you glued to the computer screen for hours reading the various posts of women who are desperately trying to conceive. The text abbreviations the Trying to Conceive ("TTC", clearly, in baby-making world) use online put teenage SMS text abbreviations to shame! It's a days' work just figuring out what OPK (Ovulation Predictor Kit), HPT (Home Pregnancy Test) and BD (Baby Dancing a.k.a 'sex' to you and me - I know, I know!) all mean! Among the groups on this site is one called Those With Aged Ovaries, well not quite worded like that, but you get my drift. I'm a member of that one, clearly, being as "aged" as I am at forty.

It's just soooooooo hard this getting pregnant lark, and so lonely too. I mean, do you think men could possibly have any idea what we women go through? Truly? I have a man who is super sympathetic, in touch with his feminine side, lets me visit some very strange people in my quest for another baby and all that, BUT would he really stab a needle in his stomach day after day without complaining? Would he even REMEMBER to stab himself in the stomach every day in the first place? Hmm, no, I think not.

No, this is, in the main, a feminine thing. And boy will we do ANYTHING to get that longed-for baby. I mean anything.

Some of my best 'try anything to get pregnant' exploits to date were searching for a grapefruit to buy during our holiday in Fort Lauderdale, then leaving it on the bedside table overnight and eating it the next day because it was a Full Moon and I was told it would help conception. The urgent quest to find red shoes to wear every day to 'stimulate my system'. The daily trawl through the Fertility/Infertility book section on Amazon in case one recommended self-help book had been missed. The phone consultation with a fertility astrologist who told me that Jan 4th looked good and failing that try IVF in May. The revolting seaweed, the endless green tea and the multitude of pessaries (don’t ask, French homeopathy!).

To date I reckon I've been through 136 books, 340 bottles of vitamins, 68 'magic potions', 1342 pregnancy tests, 659 blood tests, 237 ultrasounds, 290 acupuncture sessions, 46 weird and wonderful healers and several rounds of the fertility drug Gonal F.

I’ve been prodded and poked, twisted and contorted, blood-tested and punctured, x-rayed and massaged, downward-dogged and meditated to within an inch of my life. I’ve had tarot readings, palm readings, astrology readings, aura readings, seen spirit guides and bought crystals - you name it, I’ve been there.

I have certainly tried many things, and we are probably nearly bankrupt (and quite possibly doolally) because of it!

It’s therefore amazing then that through all the stress, frustration and disappointment we ladies manage keep our candle of hope burning, albeit it sometimes just flickering. Every sodding month we suit and boot up for another 're-try', every 14 days or so we Get Down To It and every 20 days or so we imagine that This Will Be The Month It Will Happen. It's like a cycle of seasons every month. Period comes = Winter, new eggs start to grow = Spring, ovulation and therefore lots of sex, hurrah! = Summer, and then, BOOM, back to bloody Winter doom and gloom again.

A word also here about sex. Not just normal sex but baby sex. Baby sex is totally different to normal sex, simply by definition of lack of spontaneity.

Baby Sex usually involves a child-like smiley face on the Ovulation Predictor Stick (indicating that ‘it's time’), neither partner probably in the mood for sex yet a determined woman who pulls out all the stops to ‘get it going on’. Once the deed is over, the woman then romantically shoves a pillow under her hips and glances at the clock to see how long she's got to keep her hips raised and fight against gravity. The man usually gives a perfunctory kiss goodnight and immediately falls into a deep sleep (clearly, his job done). The woman lies there, in her ridiculous position, dying to pee, not even daring to sneeze for fear of leaking any precious fluid, silently cursing the sleeping log next to her. Half an hour later the woman finally gets to try and sleep; sadly sleep doesn’t come easily as she ends up lying awake thinking how the Hell is she gonna get him in the mood all over again tomorrow.

I challenge anyone to say that this isn't one of the hardest things in the world to cope with. The pressure is enormous, the fear and stress unbelievable, and the highs and lows often quite unbearable. It's Mother Nature testing each and every nerve and sinew in our bodies. Our heads, already straining from the pressure of daily, modern life, can hardly cope with the extra billion thoughts taken up with trying to conceive. It's a day's work just sorting them out! Tiredness becomes the norm, tempers frequently snap, frowns replace the smiles and fun becomes a word we no longer use or recognize. Sex becomes a joke rather than sexy, sensual and spontaneous. Cafe lattes (sadly) become forbidden. Health food shopping replaces Zara. Lunches get postponed for acupuncture appointments. Money gets spent on Zita West Fertility tablets instead of at the beauty salon. Holiday destinations don't get booked too far in advance because, well, "what if?"….

"Just relax and it will happen," people say. “It’ll be your turn when the timing’s right”. Although well-meaning these are quite possibly the most nonsensical words you can hear. RELAX? And how, dearest Universe, am I supposed to do that whilst taking my basal temperature before I even utter a word in the morning or chugging down yet another mouthful of homeopathic remedies? Relax is for people who have completed their family, relax is for those who haven't even thought about it yet. Relax is not for those desperate for a baby.

Through it all though I keep reminding myself that we do have one beautiful, amazing, scrumptious daughter and, importantly too, we have each other. Life is very precious and I am truly grateful for all that I have, despite my second baby void.

I like to think that maybe my spirit baby is not yet ready to come into this world, that maybe there is another plan for me. Who knows, only time will tell.

So, to all who read this and are, like me, trying to conceive - very best of luck to you and may you find, in these exceedingly difficult and testing times, a way to laugh at life to help you through. It's the best tonic you can give yourself; better than drinking a shot of wheatgrass any day!