A short version: I’ve published my first poetry collection. It’s called Unborn, it explores themes of family, fertility and identity, and you can buy it here.

A longer version: This is a book about bearing life. The poems are an exploration of family and identity, faith and loss, during the hidden years trying to conceive. They speak of grief for what never was and hope not yet arrived. It’s a tender topic and personal piece of work. It’s also a common but still comparatively taboo subject. I could rely on the statistics (one in seven couples) but I’m more compelled by the stories which touch each of our lives – whether it’s your own experience, or that of a family member, dear friend, treasured colleague… If it feels like this book might help you or someone you know to feel a bit less lonely or a bit more seen in tough times, I’d love it if you shared it with them.

Why did you write this book? 

I write because it’s a big part of how I make sense of myself, life, and the world. These poems are about the years of trying without getting pregnant. It was a season that was new to me and then very long; writing helped me persevere. It was complicated, because it didn’t happen in isolation from relationships and other people’s experiences; writing helped me meet myself and others with greater empathy. 

These poems feel fresh and early; there was something unborn in me at that point as a poet and a writer. I’m proud of what I created, even as I might write things differently now.

Where are you at on your fertility journey?

I’ve known since I was 20, when I got an accurate medical diagnosis for a confusing set of symptoms, that it might be difficult for me to get pregnant. My husband and I tried for a few years, and then went through medical support to help. Eventually, we did IVF and happily got pregnant but sadly miscarried. That’s a fuller story (and set of poems) for another day. It was the worst thing we’ve been through yet, and some days it’s still really sad, but we are also ok. We’ve learned a lot about living out peace — that it’s not a one time thing, but it’s both a gift and copious choices in the dark. We are living out of the good of the peace we have chosen. And we’re grateful for that. 

Where can I get support?

If you’re in the midst of it, I’m so so sorry, it’s rubbish. 

We actually didn’t get any support from charities or organisations. It didn’t come up in any of our appointments or conversations, and for whatever reason, we didn’t seek it ourselves. I think part of it was that we were pretty open with our friends and family from the beginning, as we were aware that it would likely be a tough process for us. Going in knowing that, rather than painfully discovering it after starting out with high hopes, made it easier to be open with people. We knew we would need them. 

But sometimes I do slightly regret not reaching out for informed, trained support at the time. I imagine it could’ve been helpful. People I know found good support here (sorry that it’s a bit UK-centric): Fertility Network UK, Tommy’s and this page has some helpful advice, including communities on social media.

Why did you publish your book independently — and through Amazon of all sites?

The decision to publish independently was actually fairly easy in the end. I finished these poems a few years ago and they’d been sitting there waiting for me to do something with them. I shared them with a few people, and they told me they were resonant and helpful. They encouraged me to publish. And as I thought about this, I soon realised that I couldn’t bear the thought of an editor or group of people tweaking and changing them. The poems themselves are tender things. And the collection feels very whole to me, a coherent piece of creation with the inclusion of the embryonic phrases that sparked the initial ideas. I joked with a friend about the potential arrogance of this approach of going it alone, and I imagine an editor could have made the collection into better poetry.  But I’m content that it’s honest and authentic for the person I was when I wrote them; I want to honour that woman with this collection. 

The Amazon decision was harder and is more imperfect. It took a long time to come round to the fact that this monolith, this company we avoid buying from, is kind of unavoidable in the publishing industry at the moment. So, I came to an uneasy peace with the fact that possibly the best way to self-publish would be through them. It doesn’t feel like a neat decision, and it’ll be interesting to reflect on in years to come. It’s where I’ve got to for now and I want to be honest and own that.

Your book cover is so evocative. Who designed it?

I know, right? That was my lovely and talented sister-in-law, Esther Leonce, from Ocean Breeze Creative.

Where can I read more of your writing?

I’m hanging out on Substack at the moment, writing a newsletter exploring how we can live well in this broken and beautiful world. I’m also open for freelance projects if you want to get in touch.

If you’ve read this far, thank you, and it sounds like this book could be for you or someone you know. You can buy it here.