kimberleycaines

Beyond "who pays?": The fertility conversation couples are avoiding

Mon, 02 Mar 2026 23:42:07 GMT

A story about whether a former partner should contribute to the cost of egg freezing has ignited a national debate about responsibility, fairness, and modern relationships.

Last week, I was interviewed in News Corp Australia newspapers about whether fertility should be a joint conversation - and financial consideration - within relationships.

The headline focused on why men should help fund egg freezing after a long-term relationship ended.

Unsurprisingly, the debate quickly centred on one question: Should he have to pay?

But I believe that question misses the bigger issue entirely.

This isn't just about money.

It's about the conversations we're still avoiding.

We readily discuss buying property together.

We discuss career plans, relocations, and retirement strategies.

Yet, conversations about fertility - about biology, timelines, and reproductive realities - are often left unspoken.

Or worse, assumed.

Fertility is often framed as a "women's issue".

But biology doesn't operate in isolation from relationships.

When two people see children as part of their future, understanding the biological window and available options benefits both of them.

Not because one person owes the other.

But because strong partnerships are built on shared awareness.

It's also important to acknowledge why many men reacted strongly to this story.

For some, the idea of financial responsibility after a relationship ends feels unfair or threatening.

Others raised concerns about consent, autonomy, and equality.

Those concerns deserve space in the discussion.

No one should feel legally or morally coerced into funding a decision they do not agree with.

The goal is not obligation - it's transparency and clarity while a relationship is still intact.

What struck me most about the national reaction was how uncomfortable the topic made people.

And that discomfort is telling.

We are comfortable debating financial fairness.

We are less comfortable discussing reproductive timelines.

We are comfortable talking about equality in theory.

We are less comfortable acknowledging that biology is not equal.

That tension sits at the heart of this issue.

Egg freezing is not a guarantee of a family.

It is not a contract between partners.

It is not a punishment for relationships that end.

It is simply one option women may consider when timing and biology do not align.

The real conversation couples should be having is much simpler than "who pays?"

It's this:

What does having children mean to us?
When do we realistically see that happening?
What do we understand about fertility decline?
What happens if our relationship changes before that timeline?

These are not easy discussions.

But they are far easier at 30 than at 38.

If the reaction to this story has shown us anything, it's that fertility remains one of the last major life decisions we are still uncomfortable discussing openly.

That's precisely why we need to.

Not to assign blame.

Not to create obligation.

But to ensure that both men and women are making informed decisions about their futures.

Because biology doesn't pause while we avoid the conversation.

Kimberley Caines is the founder of PreservHer, a fertility education platform helping women make informed decisions about their reproductive health and life planning.

France is offering free egg freezing: Australia should be paying attention

Fri, 27 Feb 2026 00:45:42 GMT

It took a fertility crisis for a government to act - but at least France has acted.

Letters will soon begin landing in the mailboxes of 29-year-old women across France, explaining the reality of the biological clock, outlining their options, and making clear that if they choose to freeze their eggs, it's free.

French President Emmanuel Macron has moved from conversation to policy.

Meanwhile, Australia hasn't even meaningfully started the national discussion - leaving women to navigate one of the most consequential biological decisions of their lives alone.

France is proactively educating women before it's too late. And that deserves recognition.

Because this is what leadership looks like when a country is facing its worst birth rate in modern history.

What France Is Doing

France's birth rate has dropped to 1.56 - with more deaths than births recorded in 2025.

The government has called it a “demographic rearmament” moment.

Here's what's now being implemented:

- Letters sent to citizens turning 29, explaining age-related fertility decline

- Free egg freezing under the social security system between ages 29-37

- Expansion of fertility centres across the country from 40 to 70

- Inclusion of private clinics to reduce wait times

- Legal access to non-medical egg freezing (since 2021 bioethics reform)

This isn't about panic.

It's about preparation.

It's about informed choice.

It's about giving women agency before fertility becomes a crisis.

This Is What I've Been Lobbying For

For years, I have been advocating for government-backed fertility education and subsidies in Australia.

Not after infertility.

Not when women are already in distress.

Not when AMH results cause shock at 35.

Earlier.

Proactive.

Educational.

Accessible.

Australia's fertility rate has fallen to 1.48 births per woman - the lowest on record.

Yet we still:

- Don't routinely educate women about age-related fertility decline

- Don't provide universal early fertility screening

- Don't subsidise elective egg freezing

- Leave cost as the single biggest barrier

Free egg freezing in France isn't about forcing motherhood.

It's about removing cost as a barrier to optionality.

And cost is the biggest barrier here.

This Is About Agency, Not Blame

There are critics who say France is placing pressure on women. That birth rates are about housing affordability, childcare costs, and economic instability.

They're right. Those factors matter.

But so does biology.

We can hold two truths at once:

- Women deserve economic support.

- Women deserve biological education.

Giving someone information at 29 is not pressure.

It's power.

When I froze my eggs, it didn't give me a guarantee.

It gave me agency.

And agency changes how women plan their careers, relationships, and families.

What Australia Should Do Next

If we are serious about addressing declining fertility rates, we need:

- National fertility education campaigns for women in their late 20s
- Subsidised AMH testing as standard preventive healthcare
- Government-supported egg freezing access
- Public-private clinic partnerships to reduce wait times
- A shift from reactive fertility treatment to proactive fertility preservation

We invest in preventative healthcare for heart disease and cancer.

Why not fertility?

The Bigger Picture

France understands something critical:
- You cannot fix demographic decline without empowering women first.

Fertility preservation is not anti-career.

It's not anti-family.

It's not anti-feminist.

It is pro-choice in its truest form.

As someone who has been lobbying for years for affordability and early education in Australia, I see France's move as a blueprint.

Not because egg freezing is the solution to everything.

But because access to information and options should never depend on privilege.

And when governments step in to remove financial barriers, they send a powerful message:
- Your future matters.

- Your choices matter.

- Your fertility matters.

Australia - it's time.

NICO named Vogue Australia’s Top Pick for Best Sustainable Underwear Brand

Fri, 16 Jan 2026 01:59:06 GMT

There are moments in business that stop you in your tracks - the ones that make all the long days, hard decisions, and quiet persistence feel deeply worth it.

NICO being named Vogue Australia's Top Pick for Best Sustainable Underwear Brand in 2025 is one of those moments.

It's truly an honour to receive this recognition from a publication that has long set the standard for fashion, culture, and thoughtful storytelling.

To have Vogue recognise NICO Underwear not just for design, but for our commitment to sustainability and ethics, means more than I can easily put into words.

"Minimalist design and ethical transparency lay at the heart of NICO, an Aussie brand with a distinct thread of understated luxury throughout their collections," Vogue Australia wrote in a separate piece on January 13, 2026 .

"Among their intimates is a plant-dyed, organic cotton collection, both kinder to Mother Nature and to your skin."

When I acquired NICO, my vision was clear: to protect and build upon a brand that genuinely cared about the environment, about women's bodies, and about doing things properly, even when it's harder or slower.

Sustainability isn't a buzzword for us. It's embedded in every decision we make at NICO:

- using thoughtfully sourced fabrics

- prioritising quality and longevity over fast fashion

- producing in a way that respects people, resources, and the planet

To be acknowledged by Vogue tells me that this approach - the quieter, more considered path - still matters.

NICO has never been about chasing trends. It's about creating underwear that feels good to wear and feels good to stand behind. Pieces that women can trust, return to, and feel confident in - knowing they've chosen something made with care.

This recognition is a reflection of the values behind the brand, but also of the community that supports it. Every customer who chooses NICO is part of this story. You are voting for sustainability, transparency, and a different way of doing fashion.

I'm incredibly proud of what NICO represents, and deeply grateful for this recognition.

Thank you to Vogue Australia, and thank you to everyone who has supported NICO along the way. This honour belongs to all of us.

Why Gen Z will miss their fertility window - my prediction

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 00:02:09 GMT

Gen Z is on track to become the first generation to realise - slowly and collectively - that they waited too long to have children.

Not because they didn't want them, but because the world told them they had time.

They don't.

But they do have opportunity.

Birth rates are dropping globally.

People are having children later than ever.

And early data already shows Gen Z is delaying parenthood more than Millennials - 39% cite economic conditions as the reason, according to a Newsweek study this year.

Meanwhile, the science hasn't changed: fertility declines with age, and a 2024 review in Human Reproduction Update confirms that delaying childbearing significantly increases the risk of infertility and involuntary childlessness.

Lifestyle plays a role too.

Gen Z values freedom, travel, autonomy, mental health and flexibility - all valid, all important, and all part of modern life. The challenge is that biology doesn't run on a lifestyle timeline.

A Swedish study found young adults delay parenthood because they want personal growth and stability first.

But those milestones now arrive later than fertility allows. This is why my prediction is blunt: if nothing changes, many in Gen Z will eventually want children - and for a significant number, their only viable option will be donor eggs.

But here's the part that matters: this future is not fixed. Gen Z has a real chance to change the story.

Here are the solutions:

1. Education early, not when it's too late.

Understanding fertility in your 20s - not your late 30s - is the biggest game-changer. Knowledge is power only when it's timely.

2. Egg freezing as a proactive option.

Not a guarantee and not a backup plan - but a way to expand choice. If it's used late, it's far less effective.

3. Normalising conversations.

Talking about fertility should be as normal as talking about careers, finances or relationships. Silence is what costs women the most.

4. Making informed decisions, not accidental ones.

If you want kids "one day", you need to understand what that means biologically. Hope isn't a plan. Awareness is.

5. Designing life with fertility in mind - not as an afterthought.

Gen Z is smart, intentional and values-led. Applying that same mindset to reproductive planning is their biggest advantage.

This is exactly why I created PreservHer - to make fertility education accessible, honest, empowering, and early enough to count.

Because the real issue isn't that Gen Z is making the wrong choices. It's that they were never given the information to make fully informed ones.

Meanwhile, society itself is evolving.

As birth rates drop, partnerships shift, and loneliness increases, new forms of intimacy will emerge.

AI companionship, digital partners, and robotic relationships won't replace human connection, but they will become alternatives in a world where traditional relationship timelines no longer align with biological realities.

Gen Z has the chance to rewrite the pattern Millennials are currently living through.

They can break the cycle of late awareness.

They can protect their future options.

They can change the trajectory - if they act now.

This isn't panic.

It's possibility.

And the opportunity for an entire generation to shape their future, not be blindsided by it.

PreservHer in Parliament: Launching a national conversation on egg freezing

Tue, 04 Nov 2025 07:10:05 GMT

Today marks a historic moment for PreservHer - and for Australia's reproductive future.

We officially launched our education and awareness campaign in Parliament, advocating for a future where every woman has access to proactive fertility care, not just those who can afford it.

This morning, I walked through the doors of Parliament House - not as a journalist chasing a story, but as an advocate fighting for one.

For months now, I've been building PreservHer - an education and advocacy platform dedicated to demystifying egg freezing and empowering women to make informed choices about their fertility.

Today, that mission became a movement when I met with federal MPs to begin the push for a Medicare rebate or federal subsidy for elective egg freezing, particularly for women under 35.

Why now? Because Australia's fertility rate has dropped to a record low of just 1.48 births per woman.

Because thousands of women still learn too late about the realities of fertility decline.

And because our healthcare and policy framework hasn't kept up with how women live, work, love, and plan families in a modern world.

As someone who froze her eggs in her 20s - not because I wanted to delay motherhood, but because I wanted to keep the choice mine - I know how empowering, confronting, and expensive the process can be.

That's what drives me. It's what elevates this mission beyond medicine and into politics, equality, and agency.

Egg Freezing Is Not a Luxury - It's a Lifeline

Egg freezing has long been branded a kind of luxury biotech - something for high-achieving women in high-rise cities.

But the truth is much more urgent: it's the only way women today can proactively preserve their fertility - and its success depends entirely on timing and access.

But here's the problem: the best time biologically is often the worst time financially.

And so, women are left with an impossible equation:

Freeze younger - only if you can afford it.
Or wait too long - and pay emotionally, medically, and financially later.

That's why I started PreservHer: to close the knowledge gap, break the stigma, and push for a fairer path forward.

Why Parliament?

Because big change doesn't happen in clinic brochures or on social media - it happens in policy.

Today, I met with federal politicians who were engaged, informed, and in many cases personally connected to the challenges women face when navigating fertility.

These are leaders who recognise that this issue isn't niche - it's about the future health of our population, our economy, and the autonomy of women everywhere.

They understand that this is:

A gender equity issue
A productivity issue
A demographic issue
A healthcare issue

And for the first time, it feels like we're opening the right doors.

So, What Comes Next?

A federal budget submission.

A coalition of peak bodies.

Further meetings, more education, and a growing public movement.

Our goal? For Australia to support elective egg freezing as part of a national women's health and reproductive strategy.

If you're reading this and want to be part of the change, stay close. Follow PreservHer.

Share your egg freezing story. Lobby your MP. Speak up. Because policy doesn't only change from the top down - it changes when people speak up.

Together, we can future-proof women and shift the narrative from reactive IVF to proactive care.

Australia’s fertility crisis: I've been warning about this for years

Thu, 16 Oct 2025 00:35:54 GMT

Australia's fertility rate has collapsed - again. The numbers are now impossible to ignore.

We're at 1.48 births per woman. This is the lowest since records began more than a century ago.

That's far below the replacement rate of 2.1, the level we need to simply sustain our population without relying on migration.

And yet, despite years of warnings, debate, and hand-wringing, our government still hasn't stepped up with real solutions.

I was in Parliament House in Canberra just last week (pictured above), talking about this very issue - urging decision-makers to act before we hit this point.

I said then what I'll say again now: women are not the problem. Women are not "choosing" not to have children. They are being cornered by cost-of-living pressures, by career insecurity, by the impossibility of affording a home - and by biology.

We can't change economics overnight, but we can change biology's impact through access, education, and empowerment.

Egg freezing is one of the clearest, simplest ways to give women back time and choice.

It's not a luxury - it's a form of reproductive equality.

By enabling women to freeze their eggs early, we give them freedom - the freedom to build careers, find stability, and still have the chance to start families later.

This is how we start to turn the tide - not by blaming women for "waiting too long", but by giving them the tools to take control of their fertility on their own terms.

This is also how we help fix the broader population challenge.

If we empower Australian women to have children when they're ready, rather than losing that chance altogether, we ease the pressure on migration as the only driver of population growth.

Migration is important, but it shouldn't be a Band-Aid for a fertility crisis we could have prevented.

I've been saying this for years, and I'll keep saying it until someone listens. Because the numbers don't lie. The fertility rate keeps falling. The median age of new mothers keeps rising. And yet, government inaction keeps holding us back.

We can't keep pretending this is an issue for "later". Later is now.

If we want women to have a real choice, if we want families to feel supported, if we want Australia to have a sustainable future - then fertility support, egg freezing education, and long-term reproductive policy reform must become national priorities.

I froze my eggs in my 20s because I understood what was coming. Most women can't afford to. That's the problem.

It's time our leaders caught up to the reality women have been living - and listened.

Taking fertility policy to Parliament House

Wed, 08 Oct 2025 06:17:00 GMT

Today, I took PreservHer - and the voices of countless Australian women - to Parliament House.

I met with a Senior Policy Adviser to discuss one of the most urgent and overlooked issues in women's health: the need to make egg freezing more affordable and accessible in Australia.

From Reporting on Politics to Driving Policy Change

For years, I reported from the corridors of Parliament House as a political journalist. I covered national politics, health, women's issues, and policy decisions that shaped everyday lives.

But today, for the first time, I walked those same halls not as a reporter - but as an advocate.

After freezing my eggs in my 20s - when I was one of the youngest women in Australia to do so for a non-medical reason - I became deeply aware of how few options and how little support exist for women who want to preserve their fertility. It was a confronting, empowering, and at times isolating experience.

That's why I founded PreservHer - a fertility education and advocacy platform designed to inform, empower, and now, influence change.

The Reality for Australian Women

Egg freezing is one of the most proactive steps a woman can take to protect her fertility, yet it's financially out of reach for most.

A single cycle costs $8,000-$10,000, with additional costs for medications, anaesthetic, and ongoing storage. Many women require multiple rounds to achieve viable results, bringing the total to $20,000-$30,000 or more.

Research from Monash University in 2023 found that 70% of women who want to freeze their eggs don't proceed because of the cost.

This isn't just about personal choice - it's about public policy.

Australia's fertility rate has fallen to 1.5 births per woman, the lowest in our history. The average age of first-time mothers is now 31.6. The longer we wait, the more difficult it becomes for women to conceive naturally.

What Needs to Change

During today's meeting, we discussed several potential policy pathways that could make a real difference:

Medicare-funded AMH testing to help women understand their fertility earlier.
Rebates for fertility consultations and ultrasounds, allowing women to access advice without financial barriers.
Subsidies for egg freezing or an age-based rebate model.
A national fertility education campaign to inform both women and healthcare professionals.

These are practical, achievable steps - and they would have a profound impact not just on women's health, but on our national future.

Why This Matters

This conversation goes beyond biology - it's about fairness, opportunity, and equality.

We're told to have children earlier to address the declining fertility rate, yet there's little structural support to make that possible. Women are being asked to "do it all", but the system hasn't evolved to meet that reality.

Making egg freezing more accessible would:

Keep women in the workforce longer
Ease future pressure on IVF funding
Address the national egg donor shortage
Give women genuine autonomy over their reproductive choices

The Start of a Bigger Conversation

This meeting marks the beginning of what I hope will become a broader, bipartisan discussion about how Australia can better support women's fertility health and family planning.

PreservHer is committed to leading that conversation - through education, advocacy, and collaboration.

Because fertility preservation shouldn't be a luxury. It should be part of women's healthcare.

One year of owning NICO: What this journey as a fashion business owner has taught me

Tue, 07 Oct 2025 07:17:22 GMT

Today marks one year since I became the owner of NICO Underwear - and what a year it's been.

For 12 years, I worked as a journalist. I covered politics, health, foreign affairs, women's issues. I told other people's stories. But deep down, I had always dreamt of owning my own fashion label. Something creative. Something that could make a difference.

When the opportunity to take on NICO came along, it felt like everything clicked into place. I admired the brand - its ethos, its minimalistic yet distinctive designs, its beautiful colours, and its focus on being gentle on both skin and planet. It wasn't just another label; it was a brand with integrity. Lis Harvey, NICO's founder, had thought about every detail, and I knew I wanted to carry that legacy forward.

A Year of Learning and Growing

The first year of owning NICO has been both exhilarating and humbling. Coming from journalism, where deadlines move at lightning speed, I quickly learned that running a fashion business requires a different kind of patience and precision. From production cycles to customer care, there's an art to balancing creativity with responsibility.

Some of the changes I've introduced include producing only what we need - no overordering, no unnecessary waste. We've also launched an in-house alteration service, which allows customers to have their garments tailored to fit perfectly. It's rare in the world of underwear, but I believe every body deserves pieces that feel like they were made just for them.

And, of course, NICO is no longer a solo project. I've had the privilege of bringing Ella Critchlow on board. She's creative, talented, and such a joy for our customers to work with, and her energy has added so much to the brand.

Moments I'll Never Forget

One of the biggest highlights for me this year was travelling to India to meet our makers. To see firsthand the care that goes into every single garment was incredible. From organic cotton being selected, to plant dyes being prepared, to the 18 stitches it takes to craft a single bra. The process is meticulous. Standing in those workshops, watching the skill and dedication of the people who bring NICO to life, was a reminder of why sustainability and craftsmanship matter so much.

Another highlight came just last month, when NICO was awarded the Sustainability Award at the Sansoniverse Awards. That recognition was such a proud moment - not just for me, but for everyone who has been part of this journey so far.

Listening, Adapting, Creating

Perhaps what I've loved most is getting to know our customers. Their feedback has been invaluable in shaping where we take the brand. They've asked for new colourways, so we've delivered. They've told us where our designs could be more practical - like reworking bra straps - and we've listened. The connection between brand and community has been a driving force behind everything we've done.

Looking Ahead

The next year feels even more exciting. We've got two brand new products launching in November - pieces NICO has never done before - as well as fresh colours in our most popular ranges. Just last week, we released our first ever cherry print in collaboration with an artist, and the response has been incredible. It's fun, playful, and a little different - and that's exactly where I want to take NICO: evolving, while staying true to its roots.

Owning NICO has been the biggest leap of my career so far. From journalism to fashion, the industries may be worlds apart, but the common thread is storytelling - whether through words or through design. And this first year has only confirmed what I felt when I first discovered the brand: NICO is special.

Why this sustainability award is just the beginning

Fri, 26 Sep 2025 00:07:40 GMT

I still can't quite believe it.

Just over a year ago, I stepped away from journalism after more than a decade of chasing stories and deadlines, not entirely sure what the next chapter would look like.

Acquiring my own business felt exciting but also overwhelming. I wondered if I had what it would take to succeed.

Fast forward, and I've now been recognised with the Sustainability Award at the Sansoniverse Awards.

To receive such a prestigious award so early in my entrepreneurial journey feels surreal, but it also reinforces something important: that when you back yourself and stay true to your values, incredible things can happen.

For me, sustainability has guided every decision I've made since taking on NICO Underwear.

We've introduced a new range of plant-dyed organic cotton underwear, committed to small-batch production to avoid waste, and launched an in-house alterations service so garments can be repaired and worn longer.

These aren't just business choices - they're about proving that fashion can be ethical, sustainable, and successful.

Winning this award is a reminder that people care deeply about the impact of the businesses they support.

It shows that we're moving toward a world where sustainability isn't a niche consideration, but a standard expectation.

Of course, this journey hasn't been without its challenges.

There have been supply chain hurdles, relocation, and plenty of moments of self-doubt.

But what I've learned is that when you put your mind to something, surround yourself with the right people, and keep pushing forward, you can achieve more than you ever thought possible.

I'm deeply grateful to Aaron Sansoni and his team for creating such a supportive community of entrepreneurs, to my coaches Shelley and Mia for giving me the tools and confidence to grow, and to my partner Sam, who has been by my side through every question, every challenge, and every win.

This award isn't the finish line.

It's motivation to keep going - to keep building NICO into a brand that proves fashion can be done differently, and to keep showing that business can be a genuine force for good.

What I wish I knew before freezing my eggs

Mon, 08 Sep 2025 07:41:35 GMT

When I decided to freeze my eggs, I was onl y 28.

At the time, no one in my circle was even thinking about fertility preservation.

I felt like I was stepping into uncharted territory, doing something completely out of step with my peers.

There was no one to turn to for advice, and very little real, lived experience shared publicly.

I kept the process almost entirely to myself – so much so that only my mum knew.

Even while I was working long shifts, I was secretly carrying the weight of it all.

My hormone injections were hidden in the office fridge, and I'd slip away to give myself needles during the day without anyone knowing.

On the outside, everything looked normal. On the inside, it felt isolating and emotional.

What I wish I'd known then is that there are steps you can take even before making the decision to freeze your eggs.

You can test your fertility, understand your hormone levels, and get a clearer picture of where you stand.

Knowledge is power, and it can help guide your choices.

I also wish I'd known just how much age matters.

Fertility isn’t something we're taught to think about in our 20s, but the reality is that the younger you are, the better quality your eggs will be and the more you will have.

For me, starting earlier has given me more options and peace of mind for the future.

It’s also important to know that egg freezing isn’t a guarantee.

It doesn’t promise a baby.

But, it is one of the best backups we have – a safety net that can make all the difference when you’re ready to try.

For me, that knowledge has been invaluable.

The hormone process itself can feel intense at times. The injections, the bloating, the waiting – all of it can take a toll.

But it’s manageable, especially if you give yourself permission to slow down and lean on support.

I went through much of it in silence, but I now know you don’t have to do it alone.

Looking back, freezing my eggs at 28 was one of the best decisions I've made for my future self.

It wasn't always easy, but it gave me peace of mind and a sense of control that I'll always be grateful for.

I share my story because I want other women to know that they don't have to go through this alone.

The more we talk about fertility preservation openly, the easier and less isolating it becomes for everyone.

Why Women’s Health Week hits different this year

Tue, 02 Sep 2025 07:17:41 GMT

Women are brilliant at looking after everyone else - but when it comes to our own health, we're often last on the list.

That's why Australia's Women's Health Week matters. It's not just another awareness campaign; it's a national call to action to finally prioritise ourselves.

This year's topic that resonates most with me is "Take the lead". Too often, we wait for symptoms to get worse, for the right time, for someone else's permission. Taking the lead means asking the hard questions now, booking the appointment now, saying yes to yourself now. It's simple, but it's radical.

Running alongside is Fertility Week - and to me, the overlap couldn't be clearer. Fertility is still treated as tomorrow's problem, but age remains the biggest factor, and one in six couples will experience infertility. Waiting doesn't help. Knowledge does.

That's why I built PreservHer. After freezing my eggs in my 20s, I saw firsthand how confusing and overwhelming the process can be. I wanted to create a space that gives women straight facts and real stories about egg freezing and fertility before it becomes urgent. Because knowledge is power - and when women have it, they can truly take the lead.

So this week, as the headlines call on women to put themselves first, I want to leave you with one question: When was the last time you truly said yes to you?

From pen to prompt: Why I'm grateful I was a journalist before AI took over

Thu, 07 Aug 2025 01:28:13 GMT

There's a lot of noise these days about AI - how it's changing work, changing industries, changing everything.

And I get it. I use it too. In fact, when I first stepped out of journalism and into business ownership, AI was basically my first employee. It didn't have a name, didn't need lunch breaks, and never let me down.

I turned to it with every question I couldn't answer on my own. I'm not sure how I would've learnt so much, so fast.

But before AI became the sidekick it is now, I spent more than a decade in the trenches of journalism - researching, fact-checking, cold-calling, chasing leads down rabbit holes, and spending far too long trying to track down a quote that someone "definitely said", but somehow didn't exist in any official transcript.

AI didn't exist. And I was a better journalist for it.

I often wonder what it's like in a newsroom now, just over a year since I left. Is AI writing interview questions for talent? Drafting TV scripts? Pulling together newspaper articles that carry a journalist's byline? I'd assume so.

And I'm not against it - we have to keep up with technology. I'm just grateful I was a journalist when AI wasn't at our fingertips. Because back then, we had no shortcuts. No chatbot to summarise a press release or explain negative gearing in plain English. Just me, my curiosity, and a stubborn refusal to leave a question unanswered.

Those years made me scrappy. Sharp. Self-reliant.

They taught me how to write fast and think faster. To spot BS from a mile away and dig until the real story surfaced. Skills that - as it turns out - are wildly useful when you're building a business from scratch.

So yes, I use AI now. Every day. I ask it to explain things I don't understand, turn notes into content, brainstorm email subject lines, even challenge me when I'm overthinking. It's made me more productive and a whole lot less overwhelmed.

But I also know how to do the work without it. And that's the difference.

When I bought my first business, there was no onboarding or corporate team - just me and a to-do list that stretched into next week. I leaned hard on AI in those early days. It became the teammate I didn't have, the explainer-in-chief when Google wasn't cutting it. It was, quite literally, my digital co-partner.

Still, what I'm most grateful for is that journalism trained me to ask better questions. To dig deeper than surface-level answers. To trust my gut when something didn't feel right - and no AI can replicate that.

Yesterday, I attended a marketing masterclass where AI was front and centre. The takeaway? AI isn't here to take your job, but someone who knows how to use it might.

We're already shifting how we search. Instead of saying "Google it", we're saying " ChatGPT it" or "Ask Chat". We're not just searching anymore - we're collaborating, chatting, and expecting smarter, more contextual responses.

Why the change? Because:

- AI is already integrated into the tools we use daily

- It gives us answers in context, not just a list of links

- It's faster, especially when we need to distill information quickly

- It allows follow-up questions that deepen the conversation

- And ultimately, it feels more like a conversation than a search

The way we interact with information is evolving - fast. But as someone who cut her teeth digging for truth without AI, I'm glad I learned how to think before learning how to prompt.

Because AI is a powerful tool. But without curiosity, context, and critical thinking, it's just that - a tool.

And tools don't build great stories. People do.

Inside the supply chain: My visit to our makers in India

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Thu, 31 Jul 2025 01:19:57 GMT

This month, I travelled to Tirupur, India - the manufacturing hub where our garments at NICO Underwear are made - to spend three full days with our production partners on the ground.

It was one of the most rewarding and eye-opening experiences of my career as an entrepreneur.

Over the course of the trip, my partner, Sam, and I visited more than a dozen factories - each one specialising in a different stage of NICO's production process.

We watched organic cotton yarn being knitted, saw the intricate moulding of bra cups, walked through rooms full of cutting tables and sewing machines, and had in-depth conversations with the people behind the work.

So much goes into making a single garment - and it's easy to forget just how many hands, hours and decisions are involved in creating something that feels simple, soft and effortless to wear.

But the truth is, when you value people and the planet, "simple" is anything but.

Visiting our makers in person isn't just about logistics, it's about trust. It's about showing up. About building long-term, respectful relationships with the people who bring our designs to life.

And as a business owner, it's about doing the work to ensure that what we're making is not only beautiful, but aligned with our values.

Our production manager, Rajesh, welcomed us with incredible generosity.

When we arrived at his factory, we were met with a hand-crafted mural drawn on the footpath by staff to greet us - a gesture I'll never forget.

Alongside Rajesh and the factory's technician, Sandhu, we sat down to discuss ways we can improve our products, including some updates inspired by customer feedback (a new, more functional bra strap design is on the way).

We also explored the possibility of introducing some new styles. Stay tuned.

One of the most fascinating parts of the trip was visiting the plant-dyeing facility that colours our organic cotton fabrics using only natural ingredients like bark, seeds and flowers.

Our dyer, Sivaraj, and dye technician, Thiru Murugan, walked us through the entire process - and the level of detail and time required was staggering.

The natural dyeing process begins with soaking the fabric for 8 hours to remove oils, wax and starch.

After drying, the fabric goes into dyeing machines for 4 hours, where colour is applied using a combination of heat, water and natural materials.

It’s then washed, dried, and the process is repeated for another 4 hours.

All up, the natural dyeing cycle takes around 18 hours - compared to just 8 hours for chemical dyeing.

For hand-dyed fabrics, drying alone can take an entire day outdoors.

It also takes 10 litres of water to dye 1kg of fabric - a delicate, considered process that values quality over speed.

We also spent time with Suresh, who runs a screen printing factory producing a soon-to-launch limited-edition NICO range - something I'm really excited to share more about soon.

This trip reinforced something I deeply believe in: you need to stay close to your supply chain, understand the real cost of production, and continue asking how we can do better - both for our customers, and for the people and environments impacted by our choices.

I left India feeling energised, grateful, and more committed than ever to building businesses that reflect my values - transparency, integrity, and care.

A heartfelt thank you to Rajesh and his wife, Satha, for their hospitality, warmth and kindness.

This experience is one I'll carry with me.

Are you wearing the wrong underwear? Here’s what I’ve learned since taking over NICO

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Mon, 28 Jul 2025 23:34:21 GMT

I recently had the privilege of speaking with Body+Soul for their feature: " You're probably wearing the wrong underwear - here's how to fix it ."

It's a clever headline, and one that taps into something I've come to realise is incredibly common, and surprisingly important.

Since acquiring NICO, a sustainable Australian underwear label that's been ethically made for over a decade, I've spent more time than I ever imagined thinking about fit, fabric and function.

And I've discovered that underwear - the first thing we put on each morning - has a bigger impact than most of us realise.

So, what are we getting wrong?

A lot of us are wearing the wrong size. We default to synthetic fabrics. We choose pieces that pinch, ride up, or leave marks. We think that discomfort is normal or that looking good has to come at the cost of feeling good.

But the truth is:

- The right underwear can change how you carry yourself.

- Fabric matters - for your skin, your comfort, and the planet.

- You deserve to feel good every day, starting with your foundation.

When I took over NICO, I didn't just inherit a brand - I inherited a philosophy. One that prioritises thoughtful design, ethical production, and materials that are soft on your skin and gentle on the earth.

But more than that, I learned how emotional underwear can be.

For many women, it's tied to body image, confidence, and even self-worth.

That's why we focus so much on natural fibres like GOTS-certified organic cotton, supportive wirefree bras, and minimalist shapes that celebrate the body as it is.

Good underwear is about more than what you see in the mirror. It's about how you feel.

I'm so grateful to Body+Soul for spotlighting this conversation and inviting me to share what I've learned.

One year since I left journalism: A reflection on change, growth and building the life I want

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Fri, 11 Jul 2025 04:27:06 GMT

One year ago, I closed the door on my 12-year career in journalism.

From the newsroom to Parliament House, I lived and breathed breaking news, told stories that mattered, and worked alongside some of the most talented people I know.

But somewhere along the way, a quiet voice kept getting louder:

Was this still the life I wanted?

The answer surprised me.

It was no.

Not because I didn't love journalism - I did.

But because I was ready for more. More freedom. More creativity. More control over the life I was building.

So, I took the leap.

What's happened since

In the 12 months since leaving journalism, my life has changed in ways I couldn't have imagined. I've:

- Acquired a sustainable underwear brand, NICO Underwear, and learnt every aspect of the business.

- Launched PreservHer - a platform empowering women to understand their fertility options and take control of their future.

- Immersed myself in business education - everything from private equity to leadership, acquisition, marketing and mindset.

- Travelled across New Zealand, the United States, and Canada.

- Created a life built on freedom, flexibility, and purpose.

It's been the most challenging and fulfilling year of my life.

I've made mistakes. I've questioned myself. I've grown - quickly and deeply. And I've never felt more aligned.

What I've learned

Here are a few things this past 12 months has taught me:

1. You're allowed to evolve.

It's okay to outgrow a path, even a successful one. Your identity isn't fixed - and that's a beautiful thing.

2. Starting over isn't starting from scratch.

I didn't leave 12 years of journalism behind - I brought it with me. The skills, the stories, the instinct. All of it now fuels my work in business.

3. You don't need all the answers to begin.

You just need a vision, and the willingness to learn fast. The rest happens step-by-step.

What's next

I'm only just getting started.

With NICO, we're continuing to grow our community and push boundaries in sustainable design, comfort and inclusivity.

With PreservHer, I'm on a mission to change the way women talk about egg freezing and fertility - through education, empowerment, and honest storytelling.

There are more projects on the horizon. More pivots, no doubt. But for now, I'm proud of where I've landed.

A note to anyone dreaming of change

If you're in a season of uncertainty - if you're feeling pulled towards something different - this is your reminder:

- You're allowed to choose a new path.

- You're allowed to back yourself.

- You're allowed to build something you're proud of.

It won't always be easy. But it will be worth it.

Thanks for being part of the journey.

Why I launched the world’s first egg freezing education platform

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Tue, 01 Jul 2025 04:23:11 GMT

Today is a very special day.

After years of dreaming about it, I'm finally launching something many of us have needed, wanted, and wished existed: PreservHer - the world's first dedicated egg freezing education platform.

When I froze my eggs in my 20s, it was one of the most empowering decisions I've ever made - and also one of the most overwhelming.

I remember Googling late at night, trying to understand hormone levels, timelines, costs... and wondering why no one was explaining it all in a simple, honest, and supportive way.

I didn't want to be sold to. I just wanted real information - clear, science-based, and free of pressure.

That experience stuck with me. And ever since, I've felt this persistent pull to create the resource I wish I'd had - one that educates without selling, that supports without pushing, and that opens up the conversation around fertility before it becomes urgent.

So I built it.

PreservHer is for any woman who's curious about egg freezing - whether you're in your 20s, 30s or 40s, considering it now, later, or maybe not at all.

It's about having options. About understanding your body. About making empowered decisions on your terms.

You'll find free guides that break things down without the overwhelm, expert webinars, 1:1 consults for personalised support, and a private space to ask questions and share stories.

Everything is built on science and shaped by lived experience - mine included.

Fertility can feel like a hard thing to talk about. But it doesn't have to be.

I believe we deserve more transparency, more support, and more ownership over our reproductive choices - whatever they may be.

If this resonates with you, I'd love for you to follow along, join the community, or share PreservHer with someone who might need it.

- preservher.com (website coming soon)

- Instagram: @ preservher

- TikTok: @ preservher

- Join our Facebook group ( https://www.facebook.com/preservher )

IVF isn't the whole answer - but sometimes, it’s the only option

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Mon, 23 Jun 2025 23:44:59 GMT

U.S. President Donald Trump has declared that IVF isn't the way to support reproductive health - and that we should instead focus on more holistic approaches to fertility.

On one level, he's not wrong.

We should be looking at our health holistically.

We should be educating women earlier about their reproductive options, improving healthcare access, and supporting proactive choices long before crisis point.

But what frustrates me - and what often gets lost in political commentary like this - is the reality that for many people, IVF is the only option left.

And suggesting it shouldn't be a part of the reproductive health conversation is not just misguided, it's harmful.

IVF is rarely the starting point for a fertility journey.

It's usually a last resort, after years of trying, testing, disappointment, and sometimes heartbreak.

It's physically and emotionally demanding, it's expensive, and it doesn't always work.

But sometimes, it's the only door left open - and that door needs to stay open.

Side-lining IVF from the conversation around reproductive health ignores what countless people actually face.

Yes, let's talk about earlier education and holistic care - but not at the expense of the life-changing technologies that exist when those earlier paths aren't enough.

When I froze my eggs in my 20s, I wasn't doing it because I had a plan.

I did it because I didn’t - and I wanted to keep my options open.

That decision gave me time, clarity, and a sense of control.

But I only knew egg freezing was even possible because I did my own research.

I had to ask the questions no one else was asking me.

That's what real holistic support looks like: giving women the full picture.

Not just the wellness route. Not just the medical one. All of it.

It means providing earlier education around fertility decline.

Normalising conversations about egg freezing as a proactive option.

Encouraging preventative care and lifestyle support, and making sure IVF remains available for those who need it.

And this matters now more than ever.

The U.S. birth rate is declining - below the 2.1 births per woman needed to maintain a stable population.

And infertility is also on the rise, with more couples facing challenges in conceiving.

The same is happening in Australia.

In 2023, Australia's birth rate hit a record low, with the total fertility rate dropping to 1.5 births per woman - the lowest rate ever recorded.

We can't keep having these conversations too late.

Fertility planning and education need to be part of mainstream healthcare, not something people discover only when things don't go to plan.

The danger in Trump's framing is his opinion piece published today in Newsweek is that it turns this into an either/or issue - holistic care or IVF.

But for many people, it's both. And for some, it's IVF or nothing.

Reproductive health is never one-size-fits-all.

Some women conceive naturally with ease. Others rely on support - supplements, surgery, IVF, donor eggs.

And many simply want the chance to plan ahead, which is where egg freezing comes in.

If we truly want to support women, we need to stop pretending there's one right way.

The real solution lies in access, information, and choice.

There's no denying we need more comprehensive fertility education and better support for women and men navigating their reproductive health.

But dismissing IVF - even subtly - sends the wrong message.

It's not the answer for everyone. But for some, it's everything.

From Serena to systemic change: How the WTA is supporting women's fertility choices

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Thu, 12 Jun 2025 00:01:51 GMT

When Serena Williams returned to the tennis court in 2018 after giving birth to her daughter Olympia, she had to do so from outside the world's top 400 rankings.

This, despite being the world number one when she stepped away for maternity leave.

It was a stark reminder that even at the highest levels of elite sport, women were being penalised for choosing to have a family.

Now, in a major win for female athletes, the Women's Tennis Association (WTA) has announced it will protect players' rankings while they undergo fertility procedures - including egg freezing, IVF, and other medical treatments related to family planning.

This game-changing move signals a powerful shift in how sport supports the personal and medical realities of its players.

For so long, female athletes have been forced to make impossible choices between their careers and their fertility, between motherhood and maintaining momentum on the court.

Serena's experience sparked a global conversation.

Her resilience and public advocacy opened the door for structural reform - and now, the WTA is stepping up.

This policy change recognises what many women already know - fertility isn't just a "private" matter.

It's a health issue, a workplace issue, and for athletes - a career-defining one.

The physical demands of fertility treatments, the emotional toll, and the recovery periods are real.

Protecting rankings during these times is a long-overdue acknowledgment that female athletes are not machines - they are people with reproductive timelines that deserve respect and support.

This isn't just about Serena.

It's about every rising star on the circuit who has ambitions both on the court and in their personal life.

It's about building a world where women don't have to choose between their fertility and their future.

We've come a long way. And today, we thank the WTA for listening, learning, and leading the charge.

Let's hope more sporting bodies around the world take note.

- Image sourced from Serena Williams' official Instagram account.

Today, I'm 35 and childless: An ache I can’t ignore

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Mon, 09 Jun 2025 20:30:00 GMT

Thirty-five.

It's the number I've been quietly dreading.

It's the age my fertility doctor flagged as the tipping point.

I remember attending an egg freezing event with her a couple of years ago and her saying: "If you're not actively trying for a baby by 35, you should consider freezing another round of eggs."

That conversation stuck with me. It's echoed louder as the years have passed.

I froze 12 of my eggs when I was 28.

That number felt safe at the time. It was. Empowering, even. I was proud of myself for being proactive.

But I also remember her saying these would be the best quality eggs I'd ever freeze, because I'd never have 28-year-old eggs again.

And now I know - even 12 eggs might only give me one viable embryo - or none - if I ever need to use them.

So if I want more than one baby, I need to be prepared.

I know too much now to pretend otherwise.

At 35, things start to shift - quietly but significantly.

Egg quantity and quality both decline more noticeably.

The chances of chromosomal abnormalities rise. The risk of miscarriage increases.

And while it's absolutely still possible to conceive naturally and have healthy pregnancies after 35 (many women do), the window narrows.

It doesn't fall off a cliff at 35 - but the slope becomes steeper.

More unpredictable. More emotionally-loaded.

That's what this age represents for so many of us.

Not just a milestone birthday, but a biological marker.

A reminder that time matters.

I don't feel 35.

I don't feel like I'm "behind".

I'm incredibly grateful for the career I've build, the experiences I've had, for the friendships that feel like family, and a partner I care about deeply.

I've worked hard. I've made brave choices. I've built things I'm proud of.

But this birthday, this number, carries something else with it.

There's a stigma attached to 35.

This number has been drilled into us.

The messaging we get from doctors, from well-meaning relatives, and even strangers is 'your time is running out'.

Tick. Tock.

It's so loaded. And it's painful. Especially when you're doing everything you can to prepare.

A big reason I do what I do in the egg freezing space is to break down taboos and inform women of their choices before it's too late.

Unfortunately, you can't have it all at once in your 20s - marriage, children and climbing the career ladder.

I chose my career in my 20s and that's perfectly okay.

It just means I'm on a different timeline. My timeline.

And I've equipped myself the best way I can.

So today, I'm 35 and childless.

And writing that down stings more than I expected it to.

I've wanted to be a mum for as long as I can remember.

It's a deep, visceral longing.

I'd try for a baby tomorrow if I could.

However, life is about partnership, timing, and emotional readiness.

And those things don’t always line up perfectly.

That’s part of what makes 35 so confronting.

Because for women, fertility is not a flexible thing we can reschedule.

It moves forward, whether or not the rest of our lives are ready.

Sometimes, I wish I could stop the clock - pause this moment until everything feels aligned.

But that's not how this works.

We're told "age is just a number", and in some parts of life, maybe it is.

But when it comes to fertility - it's not.

It's real. It's finite. It's everything.

I've watched people close to me go through this.

I've seen the strength, the heartbreak, the silence, the resilience.

I've seen how quietly it can consume you, and how bravely people keep going.

They're not alone.

So many of us are navigating this quietly.

I wanted to write this because I don't think we talk about it enough - the invisible pressure, the quiet grief, and the strange relationship we develop with time.

We celebrate engagements and baby announcements, but we don't always give space to the in-between.

The waiting. The fear. The not yet. The maybe never.

This isn't a pity post. It's not a cry for advice or answers.

It's just where I am.

It's me, being raw, open, and honest about the ache.

The ache that comes with turning 35.

That time I secured the first sit-down interview with Anthony Albanese as Prime Minister

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Tue, 06 May 2025 00:08:30 GMT

This time three years ago, I was the journalist who secured the first sit-down interview with Anthony Albanese after he became Prime Minister.

It was a career-defining moment that didn't happen by chance -I spotted the opportunity and went after it.

At the time, I was working as the senior federal political reporter for The West Australian and had just come off a gruelling five-week election campaign, immediately followed by a 48-hour dash to Japan to cover Mr Albanese's debut on the world stage at the QUAD Leaders' Summit.

On the overnight flight home from Tokyo - aboard the PM's plane, complete with office and inflight Wi-Fi - I decided to make my move. I asked Mr Albanese's team if I could get an interview. After all, it was WA who handed him the keys to The Lodge. To my surprise, the answer came back "yes" and that I'll be doing the interview right there on the plane.

It kicked off one of the longest and most nerve-wracking flights of my life. Exhausted but wired, I refused to nod off for even a second, terrified I'd miss this very important shot. I texted my boss in WA to break the news. He couldn't believe it and was thrilled with what I'd pulled off.

The rules onboard the Prime Minister’s plane are strict. No photos allowed. It felt strange knowing I was about to interview Australia’s newly-minted PM mid-flight in a plane that literally had an office in it. I also had to keep the interview hush hush from the other 15 or so political reporters sitting amongst me on the flight.

But towards the end of the flight, plans changed. I received a message from his senior media adviser that read, “G’day, Anthony is happy to give you an interview in Sydney tomorrow in person or, if that isn't possible for you, on the phone. Let me know what works”.

I didn't hesitate. I arranged to get off the plane with Mr Albanese in Sydney, while the rest of the press pack continued on to Canberra.

The next day, my mum drove me to Mr Albanese’s electorate office in Marrickville, Sydney’s inner west. We literally followed his car (C1) into the carpark. There were no security checks, no fuss. His brand-new Australian Federal Police security detail looked as awkward as I felt. It was clear they didn't know him yet, and he didn't know them. This was new territory for everyone.

Mr Albanese - and myself - had only just flown in from Japan the night before, but he was relaxed and at ease, sipping coffee and showing me artwork as we walked to his office at 9.30am. Being in his old stomping ground, he was obviously comfortable.

I pressed him on everything - Cabinet plans for WA, whether his next overseas trip would be Indonesia, women in politics, fixing the fractured relationship with China, phasing out live sheep exports, GST, and Labor's climate change policy. That interview became a goldmine of exclusive stories that I continued to refer to in stories for the next three years.

What was supposed to be the usually tight 15-minute interview turned into a full hour - unprecedented access for any reporter, let alone the first to land a formal sit-down. I kept glancing at his media adviser, wondering when she'd call time but she never did. Mr Albanese was warm, generous with his time, and happy to chat.

One of my proudest moments came when Mr Albanese tweeted about my front-page exclusive, saying: “I have been in the papers a lot this week, but this one is particularly special to me: the first Noongar-English bilingual edition of The West Australian for Reconciliation Week.” My byline was front-and-centre - seen by nearly half a million of his followers at the time.

Securing and delivering the first sit-down with Australia’s new PM is something I'll always be proud of. It was a rare glimpse behind the curtain of a leader and his team still adjusting to power, and a story I'll be telling forever. Even more timely to reflect on now, with Mr Albanese re-elected as Prime Minister on Saturday.

On the campaign trail: What it's really like covering a federal election

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Wed, 23 Apr 2025 00:44:52 GMT

Ever since Prime Minister Anthony Albanese called the federal election for May 3, one question keeps coming up. Do I miss it?

People ask whether I miss journalism as a whole, and especially the chaos and camaraderie of life on the road - five intense weeks of chasing Australia's political leaders from city to city, press conference to press conference.

The short answer? No, I don't miss my career.

I spent 12 years as a journalist and achieved what I set out to do. I'm proud of the stories I told and the people I met.

Do I miss the campaign trail? Just a little. It's a highlight for any political reporter. It's fast-paced, high-stakes, and completely unlike anything else in the job. But again, I've done it. I've lived it.

As I write this, it's day 26 of the campaign. We're in the final stretch now - just 10 days until Australians cast their votes to decide whether Mr Albanese or Opposition Leader Peter Dutton will become our 48th Prime Minister.

So far, we've seen the Labor leader promise cost-of-living relief, and Mr Dutton stage photo ops at service stations, pledging to introduce a fuel excise tax if elected.

That's the public side of the campaign - the part you see in headlines and highlight reels.

But what you don't see is what life is really like for the journalists covering it all.

So, let me take you behind the scenes - a day in the life of a political reporter on the road.

Each morning begins with uncertainty. Journalists are rarely given advance notice of where they'll be going that day. Instead, we're added to WhatsApp groups - one for each leader's media team.

These groups run the show. Staffers coordinate every logistical detail - the hotel we'll stay at, which bus to board, which charter plane to catch (yes, each party has its own media plane), and exactly what time we need to be ready. They share embargoed press releases and even the names of approved interviewees for the next press stop.

We board buses, not knowing where we're headed. We're driven straight onto airport tarmacs, straight to the steps of planes. No security checks. No Wi-Fi. That's intentional to prevent leaks about the leader's location and avoid potential protests.

Each leader's own plane travels just ahead of ours. They arrive first. We follow.

On arrival, we're ushered straight into another bus. The destination? Still unknown. Eventually, we're delivered to the next campaign announcement, often in a warehouse, school, or small-town sporting ground.

Everything is stage-managed. Nothing is left to chance.

Even the "talent" - journalism jargon for people quoted or shown supporting a new policy - are carefully selected. It's not someone pulled from the street offering a raw and spontaneous opinion. It's someone briefed and approved by the leader's team.

In factory visits, signs with messages that clash with a party's stance are covered up. Everything you see on camera is curated. Every moment is a performance.

Then, we file our stories. On the bus, by the side of the road, or on the tarmac. Sometimes, we get no filing time at all as we have to be back on the plane for the next leg. Our newsrooms are aware of the process. Occasionally, if the schedule allows, we can ask to delay takeoff so we can hit send.

Being on the campaign trail is exhausting. Some days, we fly to three or four different states. You wake up in one city and fall asleep in another, with barely enough time to eat, let alone process where you are.

And because you never know the next destination, you pack blind. If the WhatsApp message says, "Bring warm clothes", you guess you're going to Tassie. "Dress light"? Maybe Darwin.

It's a whirlwind. It's surreal. And it's an experience most Australians will never know about, despite seeing the polished press conferences on the news each night.

I'll never forget the adrenaline, the access, and the behind-the-scenes chaos of covering a federal election. It was a wild ride and a privilege to witness Australian democracy up close.

Now? I'm enjoying watching it all unfold from the other side.

To freeze or not to freeze?

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Fri, 11 Apr 2025 02:46:22 GMT

To freeze or not to freeze?

It's the question more women should be asking themselves.

Did you know women are born with every egg they'll ever have, and one day, there will be none left?

They don't produce any new eggs during their lifetime.

There’s no renewal, only a steady decline in the number they have each month.

At birth, a girl has around 1 to 2 million eggs in her ovaries.

By puberty, this number has dropped down significantly to about 300,000.

That’s roughly 25 percent of her original supply.

And month by month, year by year, those numbers keep dropping until menopause, when the egg reserve runs dry.

We’re taught how not to fall pregnant in school - "take the pill, use protection" -
but no one teaches us what happens when we do want a baby... and it’s not that simple.

The truth is, it’s getting harder every year to conceive naturally.

Why? Because we're having children later in life when our egg quality and quantity have significantly declined.

More women need to be thinking about preserving their fertility for future family planning, so they're not left with regrets later.

Two years ago, I had the privilege of sharing my egg freezing journey with a room of women.

We weren't just talking biology - we were talking options, empowerment, and planning for the future.

Fertility isn't just a women's issue.

It’s a health issue.

A policy issue.

A conversation we must have now.

If you want us to have more babies, give a rebate for egg freezing

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Thu, 13 Mar 2025 04:07:16 GMT

Eleven days before Treasurer Jim Chalmers encouraged Australians to have more babies to boost the dwindling birth rate, I received an email from my fertility provider asking for patients to donate their frozen eggs.

Australia is experiencing one of the lowest fertility rates in history.

The number of children an Australian woman is expected to have in her lifetime is now 1.6, significantly lower than the international average of 2.3.

Just imagine how much more this is going to go down if federal and state governments don’t do more to support those struggling to fall pregnant and those not ready to start a family.

We’re having children later in life because many of us are prioritising careers.

But unfortunately, some women are missing their fertility windows altogether.

What about a rebate for egg freezing so women have options?

This may be freezing them when they’re younger so they have a better success rate if

they go to use them or donating their eggs when they’ve finished having their families.

I’ve been advocating for governments to do an egg freezing incentive for at least the past three years but in my many chats with politicians and staffers, I’m told “taxpayers aren’t going to want to fund that”.

On one hand, we’re being asked to have more babies because it’s good for the

economy and on the other, there’s a shortage of egg donors.

If no one is willing to help, expect Australia’s birth rate to decline even further in the

future.

- Originally published in The West Australian on July 8, 2024.

The fertility conversation we're not having - but should be

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Wed, 26 Feb 2025 05:38:02 GMT

No one teaches us about timing when it comes to our bodies.

We grow up thinking we have all the time in the world - until suddenly, we don't.

More and more women are bravely sharing their struggles with infertility, often saying they wish they had known more when they were younger.

They wonder why doctors never mentioned options like egg freezing or trying for a baby sooner - before it was too late.

I've been a strong advocate for egg freezing ever since I froze my own eggs in my 20s - not because of a medical condition, but because I wanted to give myself choices for the future. I didn’t want to miss my fertility window.

Whenever I speak to women about my journey, I hear the same sentiment: I wish I had done it sooner . Many regret not freezing their eggs when they had more and better-quality ones.

We need to do more to ensure people have the right information to make informed decisions about their fertility.

I'm on a mission to change that.

Why I froze my eggs at age 28

kimcaines@hotmail.com (Kimberley Caines) — Thu, 20 Feb 2025 01:28:12 GMT

It’s hard to imagine that at 28 years old, the quality and quantity of my eggs were already deteriorating.

This was not due to a medical condition but simply my age.

As cliched as it sounds, my biological clock was ticking.

I felt too young to be getting too “old” to have children, so I took control of my future fertility two years ago and froze my eggs. Twelve of them.

I was in the minority of Australian women in their 20s to undergo the egg-freezing journey for a non-medical reason.

But I wasn’t ready to start a family. I wasn’t in a relationship. My focus was my career.

The idea had been on my mind since 2017 when I interviewed Sydney woman Natalie Lovett - a single, career-driven woman in her 50s - who longed to have a child but it was too late.

Her eggs had expired.

When Natalie told me about her life between the ages of 20 and 50, I could see I was likely to head in the same direction. Putting my job first while searching for “Mr Right.” I didn’t even know what egg freezing was, neither did my friends of the same age.

It felt like a taboo topic.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I contacted a fertility specialist and was told the earlier I froze my eggs, the higher success rate I would have in the future.

My pre-treatment included having a blood test, an AMH test (to check my egg count as women are born with their lifetime supply of oocytes), and an ultrasound.

Then every day for just under two weeks, I self-administered hormonal stimulation injections - sometimes up to three a day - with blood tests and ultrasounds undertaken about every two days.

My 28-year-old eggs - an optimum age to conceive naturally - were collected and put into a storage tank at minus 196°C. They now wait for me if I ever need to use them.

It’s my backup plan, though there’s no guarantee any of my 12 frozen eggs will give me a baby.

But what I know is they can’t be replaced, and I don’t want to say “what if” in the future.

- Originally published in The West Australian on August 5, 2021.