Fertility experts think we should use sex ed to tell girls how to get pregnant – and there might be something in it

Sex education traditionally focuses on the nuts and bolts of sex with an emphasis on contraception. At my school, boys and girls were separated and a lady from the local health clinic came to talk to us girls only. I assume she was the nurse, though she may have been the receptionist or the lady who came round once a week to donate her copy of Women’s Weekly. Who knows? It was the Eighties. She popped a condom on a banana, told us about the pill, the coil and the “rhythm method”, and then she was gone, leaving us to wonder if the boys had also had a fruit-based demonstration.

The message I got from home and school and every magazine or programme aimed at me was: “Do not get pregnant, plenty of time for all that when you’re much older”. I heeded it with an obedient “OK” and didn’t entertain the idea until I was in my thirties.

So I spent my twenties “building my career”, ie getting catastrophically drunk on the comedy circuit. I didn’t actually focus on my career until my thirties and decided that if I was to have a child, I’d probably have to feed it so I’d better stop boozing so much and write jokes instead.

Now, though, doctors and fertility experts are urging school to teach girls how to get pregnant rather than just ways to avoid it. Again, not sure what plans they have for boys. Perhaps while the girls are learning about ovulation cycles, the lads will be coached on how to fashion a sling out of a paisley print shawl.

The point is that they fear girls will be left with the assumption that getting pregnant will be easy and that they will be able to have children at the time of their choosing.

The average age for first-time mothers is rising. I was 34 when I had my first and my second was born on the eve of my 40th birthday. Barely a day goes by without my looking at her and thinking, “Phew! Just in the nick of time!” I felt like Indiana Jones when he grabs his hat from under the falling stone door a split second before it would crush him. (Please don’t ever tell my daughter that she is a hat to me.)

There are a great deal of eggshells scattered on any terrain where fertility and having babies is discussed. No one wants to make younger women feel pressured with the passive aggressive coos of “Tick tock! You don’t want to leave it too long!” In my opinion, “tick tocking” in someone’s face should be classified as a “womb crime”, along with, “Soooo, you trying for another yet?” when you’ve barely stopped smarting from the first.

Above all, no one should make an older woman who has not had children feel she must explain herself. It’s no one’s business whether they chose to be child-free or not. In my experience, if people want to tell you all about some very personal choices they’ve made in life, they will. It’s extremely rude to ask and they absolutely have the right to blow a raspberry in your face and stomp off if you say, “But won’t you be lonely when you’re old?” (I have to admit that I recently said this to my 46-year-old, child-free brother who did indeed blow a raspberry in my face and stomp off. I am not perfect.)

Nevertheless, it’s a good idea to properly discuss the fact that conceiving is not easy for everyone and that IVF is not a guaranteed safety net. Why not do this in school and allow girls to be realistic about their biology and choices? It’s OK to discuss the pain of being unintentionally childless without making teenagers feel they must try to get pregnant that very afternoon.

Without boring you with jibber-jabber about my fallopian tubes, I was told at 33 that I needed to start trying sooner rather than later. I was very lucky to get my son as quickly as I did. My divorce meant we didn’t have the second child together (who knew that shrieking “GIVE ME ANOTHER BABY, YOU BASTARD!” wouldn’t make him keen to rekindle our romance?) and my desire for a second was as primal and fierce as it had been for the first. When it looked for a while like I wouldn’t have another, I mourned; I was inconsolable. I would also charge everyone who said to me, “But why can’t you just be happy with the one you’ve got?” with a “womb crime” too.

If I had my way, schools would also mention the importance of a supportive community when rearing a child and of flexible employers, so that people don’t feel like once they’ve had a baby they’ve moved to a parallel universe where careers and socialising are a thing of the past.