I heart Barren Betty. I wanted the word ‘heart’ to be a symbol but my technological knowhow doesn’t pass muster. I thought about using the word ‘love’ instead but it seemed a bit intimate – for someone I’ve never met.

Barren Betty is a blogger. Not her real name. The barren bit is, well, the barren bit. The Betty bit I reckon could be something to do with the fact she lives in the North of England, the land of Bettys tea rooms, although I’ve never asked her. It’s a great pseudonym. I love alliteration. And tea and cakes.

I discovered Barren Betty’s blog towards the end of last year and was instantly hooked. She writes beautifully. Anyone who can link infertility with Wagon Wheels in the same blog is a genius in my eyes. She also collects pictures of things that look like penises (this does not include real ones, as she puts so perfectly: ‘they are not funny in the same way’).

Barren Betty has recently been going through her fifth cycle of IVF. Before she started stimulation, I asked her whether she would become my second Fertility Proust interviewee (inspired by the Vanity Fair questionnaire of the same name but with a fertility twist). I wanted her to answer the questions before she knew the outcome. I was delighted that she agreed and you can read her answers here.

Last week she told us in a blog entitled As predicted. Someone get me a drink? that her latest cycle had failed. The news made me feel that I understand Barry Betty as much as I heart her. So please read her Fertility Proust (and her blog) and raise a glass with me to all the women who have been through the hope and despair of trying to become a mother.

So for this week’s question, there is no question. Except, perhaps, why do our bodies let us down?