William Saletan begins his recent Slate article with the following quote: "It looks like we have a new record-holder in the ongoing 'world's oldest mom' contest." Except to the millions of men and women experiencing infertility, it's a hardly a contest of who can endure the longest wait to parenthood. While I don't know Rajo Devi personally, I can wager a guess that if she could have raised a child at any point prior to 70-years-old, she would have done so.

Though I thought we were doing fertility treatments because we wanted a child, it turns out that we were just doing it for the accouterments of parenthood: the bugaboo stroller, the Kate Spade diaper bag, and the minivan. Actually, who am I kidding? We endured all those injections just for an airtight excuse to play with Legos. Brooke Shields has paired with Volkswagen in their new ad campaign on the "Routan Boom," a baby boom based solely on the parent's desire for "German engineering" and a sleek new minivan.

Naomi Campbell: supermodel, phone thrower, jetsetter...and stirrup queen? News sources are buzzing with Naomi Campbell's battle with infertility, struggle with infertility, and renewed fertility. But it sort of begs the question: if an infertile woman is not actively trying to get pregnant, is she battling infertility?

It's amazing what people will do to get out of work. I heard tale that there are laaaaaaaaaazy women out there who love having their cervix manipulated in order to have a catheter shoved through to their uterus so an embryo that was created out of an egg that they had surgically removed from their body can be transferred back. All just to get out of that 8 a.m. staff meeting. You know that kind of woman also is the type who looooooooooooooooves to waste time with things like having mammograms or colo-rectal exams. Slackers.

There I was, my back to the front door, Twittering about the Wonder Pets (what do you guys think about the Ollie character who pops up in the "Saves the Skunk" episode? A little grating...right?) when my husband burst through the door, flinging the grocery bags brimming with half-and-half and veggie chicken nuggets to the ground to brandish the shocking evidence. "It was in vitro!" he roared, shaking the cover of Us magazine in my face. And the world stopped. And that was the moment that everything changed.

It's incredible how much my life mirrors J Lo's. Every magazine I open, every celebrity blog out there is desperate to know if I used fertility treatments to conceive my twins. Some people say I brought it on myself by always playing coy and doing my whole "look at me! Don't look at me!" thing. Maybe I did, but now that I'm holding these two little 3 1/2 year old nuggets of love, I am ready to invite you into my townhouse and take a small peek into the chaotic and wonderful life of just your-average-celebrity mum.

This week, the New York Times ran an article about the present-day era of twins and how the run of multiples will peter out as technology becomes more advanced and single-embryo transfers become the preferred choice of reproductive endocrinologists in America as they already are the preferred choice in many clinics overseas. The author, a parent of twins, touches on the obsession the outside world has with noticing and discussing multiples. The author offers this simple explanation for the abundance of twins in New York City. Of course, there’s nothing freakish or remarkable about how so many twins came to crowd the preschools of New York City. Older mothers are more prone to throwing off two eggs at once, but they’re also more likely to have trouble conceiving, and opting for in vitro fertilization. (The number of twins nationwide has increased by 65 percent in the past two decades).

The summer between my sophomore and junior year of college, I went to Oslo for three weeks to accompany a friend on a camping trip and ended up backing out at last minute. There I was, stuck in Norway, with several skeins of yarn and an apartment at my disposal, but no food. I went to the supermarket to pick up some ingredients so I could make dinner and after hitting the fruits and vegetables, quickly became lost when I entered the land of cartons and cans.

If it looks like a duck and it walks like a duck then the saying goes that it's probably a duck. But what do you do when trusted infertility organizations are duped by a wolf in a duck costume? Or a duck-wolf hybrid? Or...since this analogy is falling apart since there is nothing duck-like about sensationalism, what do you do when producers from the Tyra Banks Show deceive major infertility organizations and potential interviewees alike in an effort to elicit tears and boost ratings in our schadenfreude-like culture?

You don't understand, so let me explain. We thought we'd be able to have children and then we couldn't. It wasn't a choice to enter into treatments/adoption/donor gametes; it wasn't an option. Having a child may feel like a choice to you, but it isn't to us. You and I will need to disagree on that, because you'll never change our feelings about having a family be a need over a want. When we're cycling--whether we're trying naturally, doing minimally invasive treatments, or doing invasive procedures--I am riding on a roller coaster of emotions. I am angry. I cry a lot. I am frustrated. I am told one thing and another happens. No one can give me straight answers. No one can make real promises. We pay A LOT of money for the chance to have a child. This money does not guarantee that we will have a child at the end of the day. Read More...