We’ve written, contributed to and received shoutouts in articles across the press. Here’s some of our work:


The metro

The word ‘barren’ is thought of as deeply negative.

Describe a woman who is yet to have kids as barren and you’d probably get a mouthful of abuse or a slap in return. But there are some women who are actively trying to reclaim the word to describe their fertility battles.



What it is like coping with IVF at work

It’s a Wednesday afternoon and I’m sitting in a meeting with a colleague. He’s telling me about the complex technology used by one of our new clients. Something about data stacks. I’m nodding along but there are tears running down my cheeks, dropping silently on to my notebook. ‘I’m fine honestly,’ I say when he looks at me startled, thinking he has bored me to tears. ‘Please keep going.’

image (1).jpg

The telegraph

Kat Brown thought fertility treatment would give her a longed-for baby. Here she reveals the devastating and unspoken reality

I knew my second cycle of IVF had failed from the way the embryologist said “Hello?”. When you’ve spent years reading between the lines, you become highly attuned to sadness, especially on much longed-for phone calls.


BBC News

How Instagram became my support system

Emma Forsyth, 32, also found support when she couldn't get pregnant.

She has been trying to have a baby through IVF for two years and co-hosts a podcast, Big Fat Negative, about infertility.

"You almost feel like a freak because your body is essentially betraying you," she says.

image (2).jpg

Refinery 29

"Whatever you’re looking for, there’s a podcast for that”

Reviewers say that listening to them makes them feel more informed and less alone. For National Infertility Awareness Week, we’ve found some of the best fertility podcasts out there."

The Pool.png

The Pool

Instagram has become my IVF support system

On a rainy Saturday earlier this month, a doctor broke the news to me that yet another round of IVF was cancelled because my body had let me down. As I left my clinic, sobbing and frustrated at having failed, for the third time in a row, to reach the point where one of my frozen embryos could be put inside me, a message popped up on my phone. “How did it go?” A few seconds later, another: “Take care of yourself.” These messages weren’t from my best friends, checking up on me – these were encouragement from a group of strangers.