In this warm, funny, and empathetic book, journalist Julie Vargo and literary agent Maureen Regan -- women who have personally experienced infertility -- give the lowdown on what women really need to know when they are having trouble conceiving. Hormones, sperm count, uterine lining -- nothing is too personal for these outspoken women. Candid and passionate, Vargo and Regan share the nitty gritty secrets that only good friends talk about. They tell their stories -- and those of their many girlfriends -- to help others who may be experiencing the silent pain of infertility. This is the information that your doctor may not tell you and your mother can't.

Their advice is simple: educate yourself, find the right doctor, and keep an open mind. You are not alone. A Few Good Eggs provides the resources you need to face infertility -- and the warm support of a couple of good friends.

Julie...

We started trying to conceive when I was thirty-four, and I think I knew right away we were in trouble. I guess it was instinct or maybe just a gut reaction to each period's arrival when I knew we were having more than enough sex to satisfy the conception quotient.

My husband didn't believe we were having a problem -- at first. When I lamented the fact we weren't pregnant yet, Robert would toss out comments like "Well, we haven't really given it enough time yet," or "I'll bet it will work next month," or "I'm not worried yet, why are you?" I think this is called denial.

Finally, after more than a year, I went to my OB/GYN who wondered why I hadn't gotten in there sooner.

Maureen

Although he was a delight, my son, Quinn, was active and didn't sleep through the night for four years. This made me delay having another child. It never occurred to me I would have any difficulty because Quinn's conception was effortless. So I waited ... and waited ... and put it off longer and longer.

Nobody, not even my hip, cool, Harvard-educated Marin County gynecologist, bothered to inform me of the effect my age may have on my reproductive biology. So I didn't think twice about putting off another pregnancy. I thought I had all the time in the world -- at least until I was forty. Why not? All these celebrities were having their babies late, right?

My gynecologist never told me I was infertile. It was a conclusion I came to on my own after my second miscarriage. I begged her to test my fertility, but she brushed me off. To her, I was just a case of advanced maternal age -- not a fertility issue. I shudder to think what would have happened if I hadn't met Julie and gone to a fertility specialist. Well, I wouldn't have had my daughter, Ava. Quinn would have been an only child.

The moral of my story is that "all the time in the world" is really not much time at all. I almost missed the boat. What a humbling experience.

10 Mis(sed)-Conceptions About Infertility

1. Infertility won't happen to me.
2. I can't be infertile. I already have a baby!
3. I can get pregnant, so I don't have fertility issues. I just have miscarriages.
4. I'm too young to have fertility issues!
5. My doctor told me I didn't need to see a fertility specialist until I had three miscarriages.
6. I'm in great shape. I exercise all the time. I can't be infertile.
7. I'm not infertile. I'm just not having enough sex.
8. You can wait a long time to have a baby.
9. Men can't be infertile. They make sperm all the time.
10. Normal is a miracle.

Welcome to the wild, wacky world of infertility, where insanity reigns supreme, where the path to parenthood doesn't follow the prescribed "normal" route.

Oh, well. What's normal anyhow?

In reproductive terms, some women get pregnant so easily. They decide it's time to start a family, stop taking the Pill or toss out the diaphragm and -- WHAM -- a few weeks later, they're on the nine-month path to motherhood. Those women drive us crazy. Call it envy.

The biggest mistake we make as women is to assume that we can get pregnant. We take it for granted really, the miracle that it is. We don't know about you, but we spent most of our precious fertile years -- the twentysomethings -- trying NOT to get pregnant. Wish we knew then what we know now!

The easily impregnated don't understand what the rest of us go through to have our children. They just smile their motherly smiles, shrug their shoulders, and pat the tousled heads of the wriggling tots dangling from their perfect pre-pregnancy Gap outfits. At least that's how we see it.

Julie Vargo is an award-winning journalist and creative director who spent five years as the fashion editor of the Dallas Times Herald; her articles have appeared in The Boston Herald, Baltimore Sun, Beautiful Kitchens, Women's Wear Daily, and the Dallas Morning News. She lives with her husband and two children in Texas.