This First Person column is the experience of Brett Howard, who lives in Nanaimo, B.C. For more information about CBC’s First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
It was just after low tide on a hot summer morning when I got into my car and drove away from my colleagues still collecting data on the shore. As a marine biologist, I am used to my life being dictated by tidal cycles. But on this day, my life was dictated by an equally relentless cycle: hormones. My at-home test the previous day indicated I was ovulating and therefore due at the fertility clinic for another attempt at becoming pregnant.
Two hours later, I was ushered into an exam room where a nurse confirmed that the number on the small but expensive vial of sperm defrosted earlier that day matched that of my anonymous donor.
As she proceeded with the intrauterine insemination, I picked at …