Many years ago, what almost feels like an alternative existence, amid the injections, the scans and the slippery slope that was IVF, I was sitting at the traffic lights watching a pregnant lady waiting to cross the road.
I was mesmerised by how she looked, the way she intuitively rubbed her belly. She stood there and as far as I was concerned, her life was perfect. I wanted to be her, but I hated her.
You see, she was pregnant and beautiful and in that moment I felt ugly and infertile.
Watch the trailer for Mamamia's podcast about assisted fertility, Get Me Pregnant. Post continues below.
Days later, I overheard two other women, one of whom was also pregnant, talking.
The pregnant lady was despairing at the size of her ankles and the weakness of her bladder. She was happily complaining, but in my mind she was being ungrateful.
I was never going to complain about being pregnant.
I was never going to complain about motherhood.
I once said to a girlfriend that I would do anything to be so sleep deprived because of a teething baby.
I would be out shopping and I would watch mothers with young children, and I would see the frustration in their eyes and sense the exhaustion in their bones and I would judge them and resent them for not looking like they were enjoying every moment, cherishing every minute. Did they not know how lucky there were?
I thought I would be the perfect mother and I would never, not once, lament about motherhood.
So, yeah, I was shortsighted and ill-advised.
The likelihood of a successful IVF pregnancy for over 40s is about 8 per cent. This means my pregnancy and my status as a mother is a miracle. Essentially, I had a 92 per cent chance of not ever becoming a mother.