I’m not really a blogger, a fact I know because I am friends with many great ones, past and present. (In fact — though she objects when I point this out — I’m married to one). I lived through that era. It was not my calling. I’m a magazine writer; I like the glossy package still.
But there is always stuff just past the edges of these finished stories, stuff I’m ambiently looking to put somewhere, and so I thought: maybe here. Backstory, story that never was. (For example, shortly before Idris Elba and I took this now long ago trip to Ibiza, I had the satisfaction of blocking his shot in the waning moments of a game of two on two in a midtown Manhattan gym; given that we later went to a Balearic island, this scene didn’t make the story, because it’s not interesting, except for me to now brag about.)
In this particular case, the simple extra thing I wanted to express about my most recent story at GQ, which we called My IVF Years, is gratitude. When my wife and I were doing IVF, I spent a fair amount of time looking for something from the male perspective, not because anyone needs to hear from us — they don’t, and there has been a ton of good writing on the subject from people who are not men — but because I felt lonely and unmoored and wanted to know what other people in my position thought or felt. This story is my best attempt to do that.
And the most heartening thing has been all the people that I’ve heard from since we posted it. As more than one person said to me in the past week, it’s the biggest club that no one ever publicly talks about belonging to. But: nevertheless, we belong. I recognize the sadness and the various phases of exhaustion in the notes I’ve received; I recognize the exhilaration and the guarded optimism. I recognize myself. And I feel real appreciation for being part of a conversation, rather than just carrying some sad unarticulated thing around with me. So thank you.
This past weekend Knox was dancing in the kitchen to the Beatles — a kind of full-gusto, from-the-ground-up shake — and my heart broke for all the reasons hearts break: for what is, for what almost wasn’t. For other kids in the world right now trying to survive outrageous evil and cruelty. For the kids who don’t yet exist but might still.
I’ll try to send another one of these out before too long. Love to everyone going through it.
z
What a treat this will be, Zach! Loved the IVF story and can't wait for future dispatches.