In Vetero Fertilization (IVF) is a notoriously difficult process to conceive a person. Despite the more recent, yet, insufficient media coverage, personal essays, and testimonials about the process, the science we have today is relatively new. Since the body doing the child-bearing bears the physical and psychological burden, the IVF process is rarely documented from the perspective of the cis-male partner without overshadowing such a tender process. But the difficulties have long been documented, like in the bible, and seen through the lens of being a devoted partner and participant in the IVF process. But There’s So Much DIY in IVF That We Can’t Be Sure by Toby Goostree is full of the intimacies of the scientific and the biblical, without being cold or religious. It feels to follow the chronology of hope and disappointments along the way.
The collection starts with a poem entitled “Impossible”, foreshadowing improbability and possible defeat. Goostree uses words like “seeding” and “next generation”, while speaking of stars, and the rolling calendar. These are a continuing motif, since the in vetro process, requires precise days where ovulation and the likelihood of pregnancy are more feasible.
A major part of the language of this collection is the jargon. The titles alternate between the medical-speak from doctor’s visits and scenes in the bible. Within the lines, there are biological double-entendres. To juxtapose, there is intimacy and romance. Also in “Impossible”, Goostree might be inadvertently referring to his wife and him as stars—if one decides to read it that way. In But There’s So Much DIY in IVF That We Can’t Be Sure, the romance is the intimacy. There is a closeness in the unknown and the unconditional way the narrator is by his wife Amy’s side, even when there seems to be tension. In “Anovulation” Goostree writes “…the light// under the bathroom door//was like a seam between us, fastening//…” His language during the IVF process is often from the perspective of “we” and “us”. Alternatively, in “The Scratch” he says “—I love her body//not as a source of information//or as a tool//but as a lover//and a husband given to action…” He also describes his wife intimately in “Uniform”, where he writes: “out of form-fitting clothes//her body is just a body, off the rack, anyone’s//which makes this more intimate”.
In “Reticular Activating System”, Goostree speaks of the shared intimacy of a “private conversation// in a loud, crowded, restaurant”, noticing babies, and older parents to young children who may have gone through a similar experience. In “If”—another poem title inferring the theme of possibility, Goostree writes about the hope, dopamine, and adrenaline of relationships, both new and married, also alluded to in “Those Sunday Nights”.
Another theme densely scattered throughout the collection of poems is reference to the bible’s book of Genesis—The start of life and creation on earth according to the bible. It’s also where other theological anecdotes take place; Noah’s Ark, Cain and Abel, the story of Isaac and Ishmael, and the life of Abraham—the first patriarch in the bible. Most of which are stories having to do with fatherhood to some degree.
Goostree doesn’t just try to understand fatherhood through the bible, but the ways women who’ve experienced infertility may have experienced child-bearing hardships. He repeatedly speaks about Sarah, Abraham’s wife who, in the bible, had a difficult time conceiving, and was childless until she was 90 years old. Additionally, In “Moses”, he speaks through an omniscient, time-traveling narrator in the biblical scene of Jochebed, Moses’ mother, leaving him in a basket in the reeds of a river to be found and saved, when Pharaoh called for a Hebrew infanticide in Egypt, to protect her son, while making the comparison as Amy’s husband who watches her crying, and the emotional sacrifices she endures.
”I’ve been waiting in the bushes, too//watching my wife down by the river.// She’s crying. Her shoulders rise as she catches her//breath, carelessly running her hands through//the reeds like a child’s hair, a son or daughter,// at her post, an empty basket beside her.”
These biblical figures aren’t left in a historical, or mythical past, but reoccur in life as lessons, reflections and people. Take for instance the irony of the nurse in “Uniform” name being Eve, the notorious first woman according to the bible. This poem captures the hope of a fresh start and the disappointment many experience in the IVF process. In this collection, moments like these may cause the reader to question if stories like the ones in the bible offer comfort to those swirling in the monotony of trying in a process that will change your life forever.
The subject Goostree presents is specific to his own and could be the experience of many others. But where There’s So Much DIY in IVF That We Can’t Be Sure succeeds is in the literary devices used to paint his perspective; with subtle wordplay, entendres and repetition. There’s so much intentionality, but it doesn’t come across as forced. The medical list-making in “The Kit Arrives”, and the following poem, “Follistum Pen”Eluding to the DIY-ness of at-home fertility kits by referencing YouTube in the clever line breaks.
One of the most stand-out poems, where form is more apparent is in “The End of the Day”, where repetition illustrates the monotony evading negative emotions. The poem starts and ends with the lines “Things begin and end apart from each other”, while other phrases including “The day was fine” “account for the day’s invisible clutter” and “in a mutual way we can’t admit to” are each sprinkled a couple of times throughout to illustrate how the same sentiments punctuate the beginning and end of days. Goostree has fun with world play even within titles. Poems “If” and “Femara” are paired next to one another respectively to fully stand together as the word Ifemera.
Many of the poems can stand alone, although they work copacetic in the context of the collection. Readers of various backgrounds, whether or not they’ve experienced the IVF process or have read the bible can find favorite poems, lines, and experiences. On the other hand, not all poems make these references. As the collection goes on, the poems swell of hope. Some simply discuss the possibility and curiosities of fatherhood.
There are countless ways this collection can be read, analyzed, and picked apart for symbolic and biblical Easter eggs. More importantly, Goostree opens the floor for the reader to wonder: Do we turn to science or religion for hope? Maybe it’s on a sliding spectrum of both. Perhaps they aren’t opposite from one another.
The final poem, entitled “January” references how in the biblical story of Noah’s Ark, Noah released the dove twice. The second time, it brought back an olive branch—a symbol of peace. “What I desire returns//just to be released again//as the dove was”. Perhaps Goostree’s overall message in this collection is that trying again will lead to a new world, whether you’re trying for a child, intimacy, or hope.
By day, Naya Clark is an Atlanta-based copywriter. The rest of her working time, she writes reviews, poetry, fiction and interviews creative people. Her writing has been published in The Rumpus, Southern Humanities Review, Los Angeles Review of Books and more. Her interdisciplinary works can be found at nayaclark.contently.com.