Greg Bales

Jane Weir

In 2008, after two years of failing to make a child organically, we learned the doom Kathy had already been feeling for more than a year was justified: I was diagnosed with male-factor infertility. Our only real chance to move forward would be in vitro fertilization. We couldn’t afford it; we couldn’t afford not to do it. One way we tried to work through that diagnosis, our anger, and our options was to start a secret infertility blog, “Less Than a Million.” This post and what comments from 2008 that are attached to it come from that blog.—gb

Jane Weir has won the Wigtown Poetry Prize in Scotland with a poem about infertility called “On the Recommendation of Ovid We Tried a Weasel,” but the poem is so far nowhere to be found. Humph.