Linda Weeks, a librarian from Kent, has been trying for a baby for 14 years. Earlier this year she and her husband, Richard, spent £2,000 on a month-long poster campaign on 50 London buses, advertising for an egg donor. The advert read: "Please can you help us have a baby? We'll never be a mummy and daddy unless a wonderful woman aged 36 or under can help us by donating some of her eggs. You are our only chance of happiness."
What made you decide to advertise for an egg donor?
I'd come to London for a meeting and standing in Oxford Circus underground I saw a poster on the wall. I thought, that's what we need, something with our story on that people will stand and read. I made inquiries to see whether I could hire one of these panels but it was six figures. Then this chap said, "Or you could have 50 London buses," and I thought, wow, that sounds really good because I'll have people sitting down, seeing the advert and thinking, they don't look too bad a couple, I'd like to see if I could help.
How many responses have you had?
The clinic has had about 60.
Does this mean your search is over?
It does for the time being but it might not be over if we find that the people who have come forward don't really want to go through with it. Also they might not be medically suitable, or they might not be a match for us when it comes to blood tests.
What else have you tried in terms of having a baby?
We've had IVF twice. But both of those failed.
How much did that cost?
About £10,000. And it'll be about another £10,000 for this donor egg procedure. We also had a break from medical intervention when I tried Chinese herbs. It was £35 per week for six months, so that was several hundred pounds down the plughole. And they tasted disgusting. I had to boil this smelly concoction. But you get to the stage where you'll try anything.
Some people reading this will think maybe you're just not destined to have a baby.
Sometimes I do think that myself, but the thing that keeps me going is that we've had enough to regret in our lives already. I don't want to get to the end of my life and regret not giving it one last go.
How does it feel to advertise for eggs?
It's actually quite demeaning.
Have you had much criticism?
I've had some, in newspapers, and one or two people have left comments on my blog. Mainly people think we're being selfish. They assume I'm going to die in the next couple of years and leave a homeless orphan. I don't know what makes women of 20 to 39 unselfish for wanting a baby, but when you get to 40 and over, suddenly you're being selfish. Richard and I have a healthy and active lifestyle - it's not like we are a couple of stay-at-homes.
You must think there should be an age limit?
The clinic have a cut-off age of 55, which would be me at the end of July. I think they've got it about right. If you're looking at 60, that probably would be too old, even 58. There comes a point when you have to think about what sort of life that child would have.
How does it feel when friends get pregnant?
I try to be prepared. As soon as anyone says they've got some news, I think, baby, pregnant. Something switches in and I'm ready with my congratulations face.
Can you describe what it's like to be so desperate for a baby?
Sometimes it's like a physical pain - you just want one so much and it's so easy for other people. The word baby is everywhere; I can't go into a supermarket without seeing "baby" carrots or "baby" peas. Why can't they just be called "little"? Why does it have to be the b-word all the time? I go to the frozen cupboard or something and suddenly I'll see a pregnant belly in my line of vision, and I think, why me, why now, why couldn't she have been in the other aisle? It's almost like the whole world is suddenly pregnant and in my face with it. It's like people zoom in on me, like I've got "infertile woman" written all over me.
http://infertilewoman.spaces.live.com
