Tag: Fertility

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Culture Media Startups

Day 1709 and Love is Blind UK and Better Late Than Single Failures as Global Cultural Mirror

It’s no secret I have come to love the sub-genre of reality dating shows about new ways of dating in the social media era.

I’ve watched every single episode of Love is Blind including the international versions as well as the matching shows that range from religious matching to cultural affinities and disabilities.

I am having a rough week what with my own chronic health challenges and the death of my father over the long weekend. My husband is also brutally ill with the flu. So it’s just generally 2025 on maximum. All brakes and no gas.

So I took a break from reality. to watch the reunion for Season Two of Love is Blind: UK aka the working class multicultural Manchester season as well as test out a South Korean dating show for forever singles or motae-solos in Korean called Better Late Than Single.

Now I’m a middle aged elder millennial who turned over into her forties with ten years of marriage so keep that in my mind. My husband and I met through a mutual friend and now I wonder if we were on the last helicopter out of Saigon.

We worked in the nascent New York startup scene. Over the course of two birthdays, a year apart, for that same friend, we got our act together (ok I did) and began dating.

A few weeks before we got engaged, that same friend showed us this new dating app called Tinder. We laughed at the bare bones profiles as were used to involved questionnaires from OKCupid.

Many of our friends had worked for the dating holding company juggernaut of Barry Diller’s called IAC. The founders of the OKCupid subleased space from Alex’s startup. Dating app culture was part of New York startup culture.

It’s clear that these applications have left a cavernous void in the culture of mating and dating not only in America but across the world. From Raya to AMANDA (a very judgmental Korean dating app) we’ve found all the ways to maximize for the most superficial aspects and signifiers of a person.

Some cultures seem to have taken this to extremes. On rainbow coalition class coded Manchester season of Love is Blind: UK we had Indian posh girls dating down class half Pakistani guys and Albanian girls falling for Lebanese guys. It was a clusterfuck. I won’t spoiler anything but the disposable attitudes clearly came from long habit you associate with dating application culture.

Meanwhile the forever singles have taken the opposite approach. Rather than sweetly autistic singles being helped along as Love on the Spectrum does, social media personalities roast painfully awkwardly awful members of the opposite sex fail to listen to each other. Holding eye contact and grossly insulting someone via misunderstanding was the tone.

If those media pieces show anything it’s the utter lack of tenacity being displayed by everyone involved. Sure, someone willingly going on a reality show is extreme. But the deep desire to be seen and loved goes beyond any culture or awkward social technologies. We’d all do with learning to fight more for love and family.

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Community Culture

Day 1349 and Worry Not

Through Robin Hanson’s link round up today I came across a review of a book by Joyce Beresen “Warriors and Worriers” that has a novel thesis on how different sexes cooperate and compete.

Human males form cooperative groups that compete against out-groups, while human females exclude other females in their quest to find mates, female family members to invest in their children, and keep their own hearts ticking. In the process, Benenson turns upside down the familiar wisdom that women are more sociable than men and that men are more competitive than women.

The Survival of the Sexes: Warriors and Worriers

The reviewer Tove K of Wood from Eden suggests that Bereson’s work shows that worry and fear may be playing a part in our current fertility crisis for women.

If women worry more about competing for resources than men because their social competitions are zero sum (versus men who must be more cooperative for group defense) than I can see how if you get to fear being a driver of inferiority. If you are struggling with poverty or resource constraint you might be living in fear. It’s hard to imagine that there are infinite games. Maybe too many of us can’t see beyond limited zero sum “us versus them” resources competitions.

In that theme, Bryan Caplan wonders if only fear (and shame) can sway the highly impulsive as they are not as able to see cause and effect.

When I grew up young women experienced rather pervasive fear and shame on becoming pregnant. Now we see more women convinced to pull back from the risk of children entirely.

What I can’t quite square in these theories is how much actual resource constraints play into this versus the subjective differences in resources we see in our social groups. Is it all a comparison game?

You may be doing objectively better than any of your ancestors but still feel inadequate next to a lavish Instagram feed of an influencer. If you don’t think you can live up to the high standards of parenting required in American life maybe you’d worry yourself into a smaller family.

Or as many are choosing you’d worry yourself into no children at all. Last week the Surgeon General said Americans were in a crisis of parental stress. Who wants that? I’d say that women should worry less but if our biology says “only the paranoid survive” the future of humanity will take more than just our evolutionary instincts. We need to want to live.

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Culture Emotional Work Uncategorized

Day 1232 and Crab Bucket

As I age from maiden into crone (many millennials missed mother) I find myself uncovering emotions I missed during the forced march through corporate feminism & Girlbossism. The meritocracy takes its pound of flesh.

I climbed the chaos ladder & am grateful for my perch but I did not understand what I sacrificed to participate in this climb. I doubt your average person does.

American Millennials intuited that we had an opportunity to class jump through the meritocracy of institutional human capital games & were encouraged to do so if we showed capacity. Largely that meant raw intelligence & affinity for playing by unwritten social rules. If you could get out you were told to do so. Social mobility is one of America’s great strengths.

It is not without costs. I sacrificed family & place. To climb above the station of my origin & “achieve” the American dream of education & assets you leave behind a lot. To go from the lower rungs to prosperity and security we leave behind parts of ourselves.

I do not regret this. Many millennials come from dysfunctional families. Boomer can read as slur to some because future shock & greed hurt so many of that generation. The narcissism of the new age experimentation with new cultures and expectations gave us divorce & rootlessness. Those insecure circumstances bred flexible performative children who adapted to incentives.

If I had not leapt onto the ladder of meritocracy I’d be struggling like many in my cohort and I’d still be without a people. The Millennial wealth gap is tearing social fabric because the divergence between our outcomes is so clear. Atomizing is part of assimilating.

I am now in a position in which I inhabit the lower rungs of the very top of the ladder. I have access & assets & a reputation for work in the infinite game of playing for leverage. There is security here to be had. But a Damocles blade hangs over us all.

American success isn’t cheap. And you may not always understand the costs at the outset.

If you’d like to read more about the millennial wealth gap I’d encourage you to look. I am lucky to be one of the “self made” in my cohort in that I picked work that ended up being well remunerated. I started from a decent place but we were poor for portions of my childhood. Startup life isn’t a smooth ride and Silicon Valley produces very uneven outcomes.

I will not however be a millennial heir. I’ll inherit debt. The great wealth transfer will not be coming my way. I’m grateful to have helped my family but equally grateful when they manage to take care of themselves. I am so sad so many of our elders spent so much that their heirs felt the best option was a race to climb out of the crab bucket of the meritocracy. I am glad I made it. But it hurt.

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Biohacking Medical

Day 1229 and Hormones

I was pleased to wake up to a near perfect recovery score on my Whoop today. Because I manage a few chronic health issues I am a bit of a stereotypical biohacker type.

I happen to be rounding the corner into my best two weeks of the month and am seeing my biometrics improve.

While it’s fun to joke about moody women, I sometimes wonder if we’ve done ourselves a disservice by insisting that our hormonal rhythms be kept outside of polite conversation.

It’s not any fairer to men to keep discussions hormonal health quiet. Culture war nonsense aside, one of our major health systems surely deserves more public discussion and advancement.

As if the bounds of social propriety simply cannot accommodate anyone discussing say the follicular phase for women or what men can do to increase testosterone. Our fucked fertility deserves better than polite Victorian euphemisms.

If you aren’t sure about the state of your hormones and feel as if you could be in better health consider this permission to learn more about yourself. Your body deserves your self knowledge.

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Medical

Day 1008 and Pesky Hormones

I’m enjoying a double header of hormones today. I’m in my luteal premenstrual phase which always leaves me tired and emotional. But I am also just letting go of the last bits of adrenaline and cortisol from my travels last week.

As the last bits of stress hormones drain away and my cyclical hormones flow in all I can feel is the weight of the world. I’m sure this dramatic phrasing is merely a function of the pounding hormonal migraine that always accompanies this time of my cycle.

If this all sounds a little foreign to you, Alisa Vitti’s life’s work has been to help women understand their hormonal cycles impact. I’m always looking for ways to hack my physical performance and health so I’ve been especially focused on pesky stress hormones.

Hopefully a little bit of salmon, some greens, and more rest will get me through it. And by next week I’ll be well on my way to peak creativity and energy. The lull will pass soon.

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Homesteading Medical

Day 987 and Eggs

One of our hens died today. My husband took on eight chickens from one of our friends a month ago It was an exciting moment. He really wanted chickens and it felt like great luck.

The family was moving and so Alex stepped in. If it were just me alone I probably wouldn’t have any animals as I don’t necessarily always have the physical capacity to do daily chores. I realize that’s a funny statement for someone who lives on a homestead in Montana but you get used to your limits and work around them.

But my husband lives for doing shit. I call him a “man of action” as he’s happiest when working on something. Chores and animals and homestead work are a hobby for him and I’m deeply grateful we could bring that way of living into our lives. I am envious that he has the capacity as there are few joys as deep as improving the world around you. I wish I could do what he does.

So it’s sheer bad luck I find myself on my own when one of the hens died. Alex was literally gone for a day and one of his birds dies on me. I feel responsible for the death even though I know I am not.

Death happens. Chickens are strange finicky animals and do in fact sometimes just up and die. I’m capable enough with death. I did plenty of farm work as a kid. But I’m not the one who does the bulk of the hard physical work and never will be. I contribute other things.

I simply wasn’t expecting that with just one day on my own being responsible for the hens that something bad would happen. But there I was finding myself responsible for dealing with the physical reality of a dead bird on my own.

I happened to have a doctors appointment in town this morning so I didn’t check on the chickens when I woke up. And that’s what I feel worst about. That I didn’t even notice.

I got in the car, went to get my own eggs checked (a follicular ultrasound if you are curious) and came back to find an entirely different egg problem on my hands.

I went to collect the morning’s eggs and saw a red hen laying underneath the raised coop. I briefly panicked wondering what the fuck was I supposed to do. She was clearly dead and I’d missed it. I’d just left for town without even checking on the hens.

I panicked and tweeted that I’d had no idea what to do. And then I found the heavy duty trash bags and nitrile gloves and moved the carcass out of the coop. The remaining hens seemed disturbed. The leader of the group in particular was quite vocal and came up to me as I was moving the body.

They didn’t seem to mind the body in the coop but began loudly clucking at me as I pulled her out. Did you know that chicken rigor mortis sets in about three to four hours after death? I do now. The body was in rigor when I found her so she had clearly died overnight.

I feel horribly guilt that I didn’t check the hens before I left for the doctor. But what would I have done? Judging by the rigor she was dead before I woke up.

I’m not sure I could have done the clean up quick enough to make my appointment. But the idea that the hens were just poking about next to their dead compatriot for any additional time while I went about my business of living seems horrifying. I guess that’s my own human bias setting in as they didn’t seem particularly disturbed by the body only by me removing it. I bagged it and put it in a bear proof trash can. I pulled up poultry disposal procedures and asked my internet friends what the duck to do next.

Some of our neighbors came over after their workday to help me dig a hole in the back pasture to bury the body. Digging a hole 3 feet down to keep the predators from sniffing it out is the recommended procedure.

I wasn’t up to the task of digging a grave on my own. Mostly because I’m not good enough with the tractor to get the post hole digger mounted. Thankfully I had help.

The remaining hens had laid three more eggs in the intervening hours. I had also learned in those hours that my ovaries were producing more than ample follicles. It would seem that, like our hens, I produce eggs in adverse conditions too. The circle of life in just one day.

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Medical

Day 985 and Know So Little

Every time I have have cause to interact with any medical speciality I find myself blown away by just how little we know.

I’ve been going back to doctors to understand what my options are for living with an autoimmune condition and having children. And the truth is we just don’t know much.

I made a life altering decision several years ago by letting a medical decision be framed to me like a consumer product. We opted to freeze eggs and embryos and it turned our entire lives inside out. It triggered an autoimmune response in me that I’ll live with forever.

Somehow in the intervening half decade years we’ve learned precious little about women’s health and fertility. And we are advocating for somehow knowing even less.

Because that’s what we’ve done by letting the government into our health decisions. Don’t kid yourself into thinking when we involve government and bureaucrats we somehow improve our knowledge and safety. At it’s most friendly, when the government shows up it’s about ass covering. At it’s most hostile it’s about control.

We argue about ethics, safety and life as if we even have a shared ideal of any of those concepts. Whose life? My life? My unknown children? I’m not convinced we ever cared about women’s health as an independent variable. We treat fertility as a sideshow and hormones as some variable over which we pretend to have control. And yet every time I try to assess my own risks I find out that we known just about nothing. There are no good answers. And it’s all poorly understood risks.

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Medical

Day 982 and Not Small Men

I’ve been working on getting a deeper understanding of my hormone profile and where I can better support my cycle.

I’ve been surprised by just how little we seem to know about women’s health and the baselines that are considered ideal. Between the battles over health education in school (abstinence only) and the eagerness with which we put my millennial generation on birth control as teenagers, we’ve got both an under-informed and potentially over medicated population. Which wasn’t the case for our mother’s generation who went on birth control much later in life if at all.

A tweet from last week

I’ve had my fair share of fucked up fertility experiences and yet I’ve only just in the last few years learned to understand how my follicular phase impacts me so differently from my luteal phase. If you don’t know what that means either well it’s probably time.

The phases a woman’s cycle

I generally feel most energetic, pain free, and happy during my follicular phase. Despite knowing this I couldn’t tell you what an ideal FSH hormone level would be. I don’t know what balance of estrogen I should have at any given phase. I have no clue what my LH should be during my luteal stage either.

It strikes me that these levels should be taught along with implications for what it means and how to work with them just as we know our ideal blood pressure rage and resting heart rates. It’s some of the most crucial and basic self knowledge about our bodies.

When I think of how many other crucial biometrics I’ve got memorized (I track my SED rate and CRP quarterly for inflammation) it seems odd that something so crucial as one’s hormones wouldn’t be known, tracked and improved. I watch my heart rate variability like my recovery depends on it because it does. So do most serious biohackers.

Knowing more about own health is part of being a responsible adult. And I’m sad that we do so little to educate women on basic rhythms. I can’t tell if it’s a lack of interest from women or a dismissal from the medical profession. Women aren’t just small men.

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Culture Internet Culture

Day 977 and Insecurities

A toxic morass of content has been circling on Twitter and corners of the chattering classes on TikTok, Substack, and podcasts that I’ve taken to calling gender bait.

Topics like “body counts” and the relative degrees of acceptable promiscuity in women (as little as possible) is everywhere. We are main charactering single women for sleeping in on Sundays. Hot takes on how women are failing men is everywhere.

The insecurity is palpable. The lust for control is high. How many people you’ve had sex with and how it affects marriage and family formation has been a contentious topic in culture wars in America for sometime. For a private matter between partners, it’s shocking how much it’s become fodder for social media grist.

Presenting scorn to women for being without significant others and children strike me as callus. Fertility is one of the most sensitive possible areas for anyone. I know it has been for me. You never know why someone is childless.

I wouldn’t recommend diving into gender bait topics if you aren’t already aware of the discourse and it’s champions. This variant appears to have gained momentum with a YouTube celebrity boxer feud.

It’s now percolated out to every engagement farmer looking to grow their outrage crops. And it looks like business is booming. Sadly, lonely people are desperately searching for control and reassurance and gender bait gives it to them.

It feels as if we are repeating the same slut shaming I saw as a teenage girl but on some new variant of reactionary steroids.

If you are looking for ways to judge, shame and coerce others into behaving in a way that provides you comfort without their consent please consider that the problem might be you. It’s your insecurities speaking when you apply sweeping generalization to an individual you may not even know.

Once you are secure in your value and worth it’s a lot easier to get what you want from others simply by having boundaries and standards. There is no need to rain judgement on others. You wouldn’t want them doing it to you. Apply the golden rule and nurture empathy. The security you will find will last longer than any temporary control you may find through shame or judgement.

Categories
Biohacking Medical

Day 974 and Flare

As most casual observers of this daily log have probably noticed, one of my main interests is biohacking. It was a hobby in the time of my life I mislabel as “before chronic illness.” It’s not accurate so much as recency bias. I’ve been into biohacking my whole life because I’ve had to manage an unruly body.

I had the best health of my life between 24 and 34. I am rounding the end of my 39th year as I write today. I didn’t think of myself as being chronically ill for that decade.

Probably why I think of my life as having a “before” illness is more that I’ve been in the worst flare of my life for the last five years. It came crashing down with a one two punch of being a startup founder & getting pumped full of hormones for fertility treatments at 33. I was on bedrest and chemotherapy drugs by the time I was 34.

So I have to remind myself there is no time before chronic illness. There was remission. I had long years of robust health interspersed with autoimmune diseases that flared and were contained.

Diagnosis has been a lifelong battle which started with inflammatory skin conditions and horrendous allergies and ended up with the inflammation going inside my spine and joints. Ankylosing spondylitis and psoriatic arthritis is what codes with insurance.

Looking at my health records, I had my first issues at 7 when I entered school, then after puberty as teenager around 15 & 16. I had to drop out of high school and ran a giant let of standardized tests to claw myself to university.

I was hale for college and my first startup but flared so badly after the acquisition of my first company I was put on an experimental immune reboot protocol. Ask me about being put on cyclosporin without an organ transplant.

My most recent, worst and longest flare was in the five year battle after doing IVF and egg freezing in my early thirties. I’ve only really felt like I was able to work my preferred hours this past year. So perhaps that flare is finished. I don’t want to tempt it. Though I yearn to live harder & faster and bigger.

Writing it all out in a timeline makes it seem like the pattern is introducing change and stress into my routines but also there are two big incidents involving hormones. Being put on birth control as a teenager and then whatever the opposite of birth control might be with IVF. Maybe no more synthetic hormone control for me.

Managing your health isn’t easy for anyone. It’s particularly challenging for me. And if the current post pandemic climate is any indication a lot more people are grappling with poorer health. I wish I could offer more help other than saying it’s not easy but flares can be contained. Sometimes with a lot of pharmaceutical intervention. Sometimes with better habits. Sometimes with time. And sometimes it’s just a crap shoot.