Jenny and I sat in the car and took a deep breath. It is not easy at the best of times walking into a room full of strangers and I for one had never been to anything like this. I had wanted come but now I wasn't looking forward to it anymore. Six hours later we said good-bye to everybody saying what a brilliant day it had been and promising to write this piece about it (another first!).

At first, though, things didn't get any easier once we were inside. It is a curious thing. When I discovered that I was infertile I decided to take the bull by the horns, we told our friends and got on with our lives. I never feel awkward with friends, male or female, never really think about it. And yet walking into this conference I suddenly felt terribly self conscious. It was difficult to look people in the eye. I knew about their infertility and they knew about mine.

The turning point came early on. After a brief friendly introduction by Angela, we were invited to turn to our neighbor, introduce ourselves and start talking! Within minutes I was in a deep conversation with a complete stranger to my right, talking about their experiences, our experiences. Yes! This person understands! So many things to ask, so many things to tell. I realised that the whole room was buzzing and everyone was deeply irritated to be interrupted by Angela ('you can talk about it later').

What followed was just great. We started with four members, two men, two women, speaking for a few minutes each about their own stories. Moving, funny, fascinating but turns, there was things in all these stories to relate to and yet the thing that struck me most was the variety of personal circumstances. We are all in the same boat and yet how we got there and how it affects us varies enormously. This was reinforced throughout the day. I met couples approaching middle age with the old biological clock ticking loudly (like us), a young student couple still coming to terms with the recent diagnosis, men with irreversible vasectomies wanting to start a family with a new partner, couples worried about how the family would react, a single woman contemplating DI, couples who had succeeded after 10 years of trying, couples with teenage DI children and many more from all walks of life.

And then there were the DI children. As a couple in our first year of trying, so far unsuccessfully, it was enormously encouraging to see so many babies and small children there; to realise that it does happen and to see so many really sound family relationships. They say DI families work best and I can believe that.

The format was excellent for getting out of the day exactly what you needed. In the morning and afternoon the 70 or so people there divided up into discussion groups of their choice. There were a variety of topics - understanding more about treatment, telling the children, coping with relatives and friends, changes of the teenage years, to name some of them - and I found it very useful and comfortable to be able to sit around with other people just talking about the issues, hopes, fears, questions. Nobody told you what to do or how to feel. You could listen or talk or just enjoy the company of other people who understood.

What did I want of the day? We had spent a long time making our decision to go for DI and we both feel comfortable with our decision. Nevertheless, for me I wanted reassurance on two questions. How would I react to 'another man's baby' if and when it arrives? And sixteen years down the line, how would my son or daughter react to me, the non-biological father? By the end of the day I felt massively reassured on the first point and much more comfortable on the second.

Before signing off I would just like to pay tribute to the organizers for running such an excellent conference, to wish well to all the nice friendly people we met there and to say that if you have thought about coming to a conference but you are not sure then I hope you will take the plunge next time.