Yesterday was my 37th birthday, and a very nice birthday it was. And not just because I enjoyed a delicious Argentinian steak and some luscious flan with my sweetheart. Last year at this time, I was sad about a failed pregnancy and scared of my future prospects for motherhood. I was embarked on what would become 8 months of aggressive fertility treatments. Last year's birthday was also a crossing over into the lovely medical category of "advanced maternal age".